#no but the more joe suffers the funnier it gets

[emotional-emotion]

#he just can’t catch a break!

YOU (2018 - ) 3.02 So I Married an Axe Murderer 4.01 Joe Takes a Holiday

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Chocolate Kisses

Repost from my original blog: sohoneyspreadyourwings.

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Joe Liebgott, you knight in a shining yellow cab.

This was, quite possibly, the worst date you had ever been on in your entire life. You had been sitting at a restaurant table for nearly an hour as Tom, your date, drolled on and on about whatever popped into his head.

You’d tried, more than once, to turn the conversation around into something you both could talk about, but he managed to make it all about him every time. You found yourself finishing off the last of your drink before making eye contact with your sympathetic waitress, Doris.

As nonchalantly as you could, you wrote down a name and number on a napkin and handed it to her, as she walked over to refill your drinks. She gave you a curious look, but took the napkin and made her way back towards the bar. You could only hope that she would do you the favor.

“Don’t you think that’s just the funniest thing?”

You plastered on a smile, and let out a laugh. “Oh, just the funniest,” you remarked, though you were more than sure you had house plants funnier than him.

“Excuse me.”

You looked up at your waitress who was giving you a knowing smile.

“You’ve had a call, it seems that there has been a minor emergency, and you’re needed. A cab’s been called for you. It should be here any minute.”

Nearly jumping out of your chair with glee, you mustered up the most regretful face you could manage.

“Oh, Tom, I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tom grinned at you in a way that only made you want to gag, “We can just take a rain check.”

Standing up quickly, you stood up and gave him one last smile, not bothering to acknowledge his last statement.

Practically running towards the door, the waitress, Doris, caught up with you.

“Here, it’s on the house. Anyone who had to suffer through an hour with him more than deserves it. Your fella should be outside by now,” Doris placed a small box in your hand, giving you a wink before she left.

You glanced down at the box for only a moment, before stepping outside. A cold breeze blew past you, though you never shivered. Years of being in the Bay area had numbed you to its colder weather.

Stepping onto the curb, you found yourself smiling as a familiar yellow cab made a stop in front of you.

“You going my way, Doll?” Cigarette dangling from his lips, Joe gave you a boyish smile, that made you forget all about the cold breeze nipping at your skin.

You couldn’t help the laughter that tumbled from your lips as you watched Joe lean over the passenger seat to open the door.

“Always the charmer,” you teased as you buckled into the car.

Joe shrugged at you, giving you a smile that set your heart a flutter. “You love it,” he drolled out. “Besides, if you called me that means I gotta make up for the shit show that went on in there.”

“Joe,” you warned half heartedly.

“What?” He took a drag of his cigarette before glancing at you. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea to go out with that putz.”

“He wasn’t-” you tried your best to deny Joe’s statement because your date was horrible, but Joe didn’t need the ego boost at being right. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, really? Should I turn around then? ‘Cause I could -”

“Don’t you dare.”

Joe let out a loud laugh, his thumbs gleefully drumming along the steering wheel.

“You were right, okay? It was God awful,” Joe’s eyes met yours and you didn’t bother to stop the laughter that escaped you. “Fuck, it was bad,” you managed to say through your laughter. “Thank you though, for coming to get me.”

“Couldn’t just let you suffer could I? ‘Sides, I gotta better plan.”

“And what exactly is this plan?”

“Would you just have a little trust in me? Have I ever led you astray?”

You opened your mouth to refute his statement when he cut you off, “Don’t answer that. Just trust me will you?”

Making a show of clamping your mouth shut, you enjoyed the way Joe playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“That’s more like it,” he muttered before turning on the radio. Music softly played in the car as you enjoyed the drive.

Things were always easy with Joe, before and after the war. Being with him was like coming home. It was safe, comfortable, something you always looked forward too. He was wrong about one thing, you did trust him implicitly.

“Alright, we’re here.”

You sat upright, peering through the windshield to see the Golden Gate bridge in all its glory.

“Joe -”

“You’re always goin’ on about how much you like it, so I figured, ya know, why not give you a better view?”

Joe was anxiously drumming his fingers along the steering wheel as he looked off towards the bridge. He pulled out another cigarette from his shirt pocket, letting out a sigh when the lighter wouldn’t work.

“If ya hate it, I can turn the car around -”

“I love it, really, Joe. Thank you.” You reached over, taking his hand in yours. Joe ducked his head down, trying to hide his smile.

“So, you gonna tell me what’s in the box?”

“Hm?” You looked down at the box sitting in your lap. “I dunno actually. The waitress handed it to me before I left. Here,” you said handing it to him.

Joe eagerly took the box from you. “Ooh! Chocolate!”

You peered over to see a thick slice of chocolate cake. “Well, go on, eat it,” you laughed as he dug around the box for a plastic utensil.

“You want some?” Joe asked you before stuffing his face with a large piece of cake.

“You eat it. There’s only one fork anyways,” you reasoned.

“I could always feed it to ya,” he teased. Joe was smirking at you in a way that made his statement feel like a dare.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Feed it to me then,” you challenged.

Nearly choking on a piece of the cake, he looked at you in an astonishing way. He recovered quickly, tongue poking at his cheek as stuck a piece of the cake with his fork.

“Open wide, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, but did so nonetheless. Joe’s eyes never left your lips, as he delicately fed you the cake. If it had been anyone other than him you would have felt mortified, but with Joe, you felt at ease - confident even.

Licking your lips, you hummed in appreciation. “You’re right that is a good cake.”

Joe’s hadn’t moved, instead his eyes stayed on you.

“What?”

“Nuthin’. You just, you got a piece of chocolate there,” Joe reached over and wiped a piece of chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

You felt frozen in your seat, hyper aware of Joe’s movements. His face drew closer to yours, and you swore you could hear your heart hammering away in your chest.

“Did you get it?” You asked breathlessly.

“Almost,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours. With one fell swoop, he kissed you. Kissing Joe was had you always imagined it to be, intense but playful, charming yet sweet, the epitome of Joe himself.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t fight the smile that had infectiously spread across your face. You licked your lips, relishing in the way Joe was left uncharacteristically speechless.

“If you don’t finish it, I will,” you teased.

“We still talkin’ ‘bout the cake here?” He smirked, shifting in his seat a bit to get a better look at you.

“You tell me,” you drolled.

Joe let out a laugh, before leaning forward once more capturing your lips with his.

[bllsbailey]

OH NOOOO ... Anyway: 'No One Is Buying Kathy Griffin Comedy Tour Tickets,' Sobs Kathy Griffin

It's been a rough go for some lefty (alleged) celebrities lately. Poor Alyssa Milano (net worth $10 million) had to take to social media to ask the little people to help fund her son's Little League trip to Cooperstown, as she drove around town in her $250,000 Porsche. Meanwhile, Taylor Swift is now a meme, Mark Cuban admitted to violating EEOC laws, and Alec Baldwin is facing manslaughter charges ... again.

Yikes. We don't even want to KNOW what John Cusack has done in the past week (other than continue to hate Jews, that is). 

But perhaps no one is suffering more than Z-list 'celebrity', Kathy Griffin. Yes, it's true. The so-called comedienne who thought it was hilarious to hold up a severed head of Donald Trump is learning the difference between sowing season and reaping season as she attempts to launch a comedy tour. 

No way 🤣 pic.twitter.com/2nBJNjwjLr— Clown World ™ 🤡 (@ClownWorld_) January 30, 2024

Awww. And here we are without our tiny violins. 

From Newsweek: 

'I need comedy fans to come out and see me and Kansas City, come on. I need sell-outs. I've been through hell. I've been through so much crap since my last tour. I actually just have to laugh at it. So please...' After advising fans on where they can purchase tickets to see her perform, she urged: 'For God's sake, come see me on tour. I'm coming to 40 cities. It's gonna be the Panacea. It's gonna be the thing that gets me through. You guys get me through, you always have.'

Recommended

Holy wretched refuse, Batman. Desperation is the world's worst cologne, Kathy. 

And yet, for some strange reason, people on Twitter couldn't summon any sympathy for poor Griffin.

https://t.co/Hhtxnc5aXs pic.twitter.com/gvhX3b5EFJ— The Right To Bear Memes (@grandoldmemes) January 30, 2024

This might be the funniest joke she ever told. https://t.co/qp3cPJK1Vp— Joe, the most chill zealot ジョ☧ (@BroJoeChiRho) January 30, 2024

She's not ... she's not funny, folks. Facts are facts. 

https://t.co/QssVXzokKY pic.twitter.com/KbgOpJBb4A— I Will Not Comply (@YouknowTheguy3) January 30, 2024

We're old enough to remember the time Griffin was on Seinfeld. Where she was singularly unfunny. 

She was even bad on Seinfeld. I have no idea how she managed to do that but her performance was epically awful.— AmishDude (@TheAmishDude) January 30, 2024

Why would a miserable, insulting, political activist hold a comedy tour? https://t.co/bRtgvZWiCg— Jonathan Lindsey (@JonathanJLinz) January 30, 2024

The funny part (unintentionally on Griffin's part) is that the name of her tour is 'My Life on the PTSD List.' Part of that is an attempted play on her former TV series 'My Life on the D-List,' of course, but really it is just a window into the derangement that Griffin has long suffered, mostly because of her irrational, insatiable hatred for Donald Trump. 

Sadly her fans are buying tickets, she just does not have that many left— james cawlfield (@james_cawlfield) January 30, 2024

We heard there were still one or two of them. You know, out west. 

Wonder why 🤔 pic.twitter.com/lBOkPzEANz— Branos (@thesonofbran) January 30, 2024

The woke can’t joke, which is a real handicap for a comedian.— Steve Smith (@dannyandricky) January 30, 2024

If you've ever seen a woke comedian, you know this is true. They're pretty miserable people and they just want to attract other miserable people. Comedian Joe Rogan famously dubbed the response woke comedians look for as not laughter, but 'clapter.' They just want validation, not laughs. 

pic.twitter.com/SqrnZOSoyZ— Janiceeee (@jaaaniceeeee) January 30, 2024

And that right there is the most laughs Griffin will get on her entire tour ... assuming it's not canceled. 

Don't fall for it. It's really Carrot Top in drag.— Wrench Ape🏴‍☠️🔧 (@billjones3339) January 30, 2024

HA. Carrot Top would be way funnier. But then again, we're talking about a pretty low bar to clear here.  

Learn to code?— Sir Bedivere (@Ethan25282479) January 30, 2024

It's a solid suggestion.

Never wonder why , did she ? pic.twitter.com/zOiKthLlxV— MeM♤111 (@meml001) January 30, 2024

Nope. She never will. Leftists aren't really known for their self-awareness or for self-reflection. 

The last time we even heard from Griffin at all was when she was mocked on Twitter for posing with fake 'woman' Dylan Mulvaney at a luncheon with several other leftists (including Taylor Lorenz and Rosie O'Donnell). 

Maybe instead of trying a comedy tour, she should stick with being a human punching bag on social media. 

At least that's something she's actually good at. 

***

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[anthonybialy]

The Won’t of the People

Democracy has turned masochistic.  Choosing to be hedonistic somehow didn’t create endless happiness.  You can’t argue against regrettable arithmetic.  Voters wanted it, which apparently settles debates.  Citing polls is of supreme importance to nuanced political philosophers who think anything government imposes is as correct as it is moral.  Politicians have decreed poverty is illegal, so there’s nothing to do but be rich.

Voting doesn’t make whatever won necessarily correct.  Reverent Democrats shriek that the mere suggestion that righteousness isn’t linked with what’s binding is blasphemous.  The gap between the will and the way shocks federal cultists who think a law confers morality, government proclamations settle disputes about existence’s actuality, and the Supreme Court confirms absolute truth as long as they agree with verdicts.  Five justices better not notice liberty is admirable.

Obeying the consensus of the people disregards how said people will make poor decisions somewhere between occasionally and often.  After all, notice who they elect.

Enough rabid participants choosing something unconstitutional doesn’t make an initiative okay.  By current twisted interpretations of how Democrats view winning elections, a bloc could seize rights if half plus one demand such  Dissonant statist improvisors hate when you point out their precedents, as they require thinking ahead.  Initiatives that are merely dumb compete with visions that are truly malicious.

Three individuals voting to rob the other two means the will of the people has been confirmed.  Violating isn’t as democratic as it sounds.  As for legal thieving, preposterous subsidies may be backed by popular will until creating unpopular downturns.  Shrug and announce it’s what one more person than half showed up to fill in ovals.  Selectors who treat stuffing a ballot box like a career demand compensation.

Businesses shuttering should be forced to stay open by law.  Alleged entrepreneurs have some nerve not continuing to offer products at affordable rates just because it’s impossible.  Baffled liberals wonder why their favorite restaurants keep raising the price of fries following forcing overpaying professional fryers by law.  It’s not like they’ll tip more, as that requires their own money.

Maybe more inflation will make entrees affordable.  The same preeners lament food deserts after emptying the reservoir.  Culprits naturally think government needs to address problems it already caused.  Throw more paint on the portrait to increase definition.

Poverty spreads by the result of voting to end it by edict.  It would be funnier to believe handouts would cure destitution if countless humans didn’t suffer as a result.  You’ll be scolded for laughing at liberal daftness instead of the source, which is the actual humorless part.  Slapping Band-Aids on gaping wounds is intended as a permanent cure.  Packing tape might keep on what are intended to be temporary bandages, but it’s neither sanitary nor salubrious.

Crime is the only business flourishing.  Astute observers of humans may have noticed it subtracts from other businesses.  Smirking at liberals getting what they wanted is the only fun presently available.  But teaching about consequences results in a trail of wreckage.  Following it logically leads to progress following passing the burning debris.

The difference between what’s popular and worthwhile is like distinguishing between what is and should be.  Sensible visionaries should defy what most of the electorate if that thing is stupid and awful.  The easy test involves asking whether a plan gives more power to elected idiots.

Progressives sure don’t usher in that much progress, in part because they quite mistakenly believe everyone else is a dolt as they maintain Joe Biden could really make a positive impact if only he had more authority.  Inflation specialists will be shocked to learn who the dumbasses actually are.  As a clue, look for empathic visionaries who think ceding autonomy won’t affect them personally.

Populists believe in what the populace wants unless it’s not what they want.  Well, that’s different.  Imposing their curious vision of the future requires convincing the people.  If that doesn’t work, shoehorn a mandate through a corrupt legislature.  Woke lunacy is redundant, which is privileged to notice.  Recasting society to temporary placate professional grievance-mongers may be unpopular, but at least the consequences are hideous.

Yanking out copper wire for progress stands in contrast to their popular programs involving giving everyone all the money they want.  Heed the will of children voting to have Cold Stone for dinner.  Treating government as Santa turns less trendy when it’s clear all that money doesn’t buy much, especially at retailers that suddenly can’t stock items or hire enough workers.  Those turn out to be fairly important aspects of staying in business.  Blame corporate greed.

A lot of people encouraged to yoink resources from a few shows the majority rules.  Ganging up to plunder doesn’t work for too long even aside from the iffy morality of that whole stealing bit.  It turns out wealthy people demonized for succeeding don’t continue creating enterprises and hiring people if piracy is enforced as policy.  And the very money grifters vote to receive without toil drops in value because they hand it out like it’s complimentary.  Making idiocy legally binding doesn’t make mathematics comply.  Maybe a supermajority will convince reality.

Blame the process.  Voting in proxies who express goofy notions means enough dupes got what they wanted.  Congratulations on making everyone lose with an election win.  The problem with representative government is who gets represented.

[coolfire333]

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity ✨💛🌻

Ok kinda part 2 to that last ask, the oddly specific section (aka basically what’s on my mind right now)

1. Your Name, Please from earthbound. I can’t remember how many times it was used in the actual game (did they only use it once on the first menu when starting a new game??) but it’s so funky. You could say this about a lot of the game’s music but Your Name, Please is just really upbeat and happy-sounding

2. Speaking of earthbound, I literally can’t decide on a favorite character because I love the 4 main kids all so much. If I had to say something specific, it would be that Paula is excellent and almost every time I did not have Paula in my party for whatever reason, I REALLY noticed her absence, especially that one time in Fourside where she gets kidnapped. Thank you Paula for carrying the team on more than one occasion

3. One more earthbound thing. Throw stones at me if you will but I like Pokey and Picky, Picky for being genuinely brave for such a young kid in trying to fight off enemies with Ness at the start of the game (when Pokey is too busy being a coward to fight alongside them) and Pokey may be a nasty little kid but there’s something lovably hateable about him. 

Pokey to me is like how I feel about Caliborn from homestuck, like I definitely want him to lose because it would be both hilarious and satisfying, but I don’t want any genuine harm to come to him in his current state because he amuses me and also dude he’s like 13 (and weren’t we all a bit of a nasty 13-year-old at some point in our lives) 

4. Ok I lied here’s another earthbound thing, Jeff and Tony’s friendship is really sweet imo. My boyfriend thinks that Tony probably has a crush on Jeff, and yeah I’m inclined to agree with that based on the way he talks about him. Either way, that one phone call where Tony does the “ok, hanging up for real now, I’m gonna hang up the phone, goodbye” schtick a million times before actually hanging up had me rolling. 

It’s sweet from a friendship perspective but also it’s so specific and incredibly relatable, like the amount of times I’ve actually done the “ok I’m leaving now” thing only to not actually leave yet...man. I’ve also done that so many times with my boyfriend, which makes the fact that I’m playing earthbound while my boyfriend watches even funnier since we both get to see Tony doing this to Jeff LOL

5. Ok actual not-earthbound thing that makes me happy, Nux from mad mad fury road, because that movie is also taking up rent in my mind today. If I were to make a list of my favorite redeemed villains he’d definitely be on there. Speaking of villains you love to hate but wouldn’t actually want to be genuinely harmed, Nux is definitely that kind of character for me at the start of the movie. He is a MESS and I want to see him fail but also I’m on the other hand rooting for him in an odd way. Him switching sides definitely had a good payoff because I don’t want him to succeed as a villain, but I wanted him to succeed at...something.

Also, him and Capable are cute, it was nice that they were able to connect so well. Joe’s wives and the war boys were both manipulated and oppressed by Joe, albeit in very different ways, so for a war boy and a wife to be able to team up and realize that what they had in common was that they were both suffering because of Joe.......ohhhhh the character dynamics, the self-recognition through the other...so good! 

Anyway, thanks for the ask :D

[overlordraax]

Rating all the Cobra Commanders despite not having seen an episode of GI Joe

Cos why not? This is the mood I’m in

1. 80′s Cartoon CC

The original. The classic. You get to see a show where Starscream is the leader of the Decepticons. Throws lots of tantrums. I love him. I reckon I could take him in a fight. I can’t get over the fact he is actually part snake. I feel sorry for him in the movie where he like... fully gets turned into a snake then dies. The fact he was apparently previously a scientist rather than a general before he became Commander feels like it explains so much about his leadership skills.

2. Marvel comics CC

The actual original. I’ve only read his backstory on wikipedia. I find it both parts hilarious and also really tragic. Clearly just suffering from undiagnosed PTSD after the death of his brother and if he’d simply have gotten grief counselling I don’t think the entire events of the comics would have happened. Has a son called Billy.

3. Sigma 6 CC

ANIME VILLAIN CC! He’s got, like, a power suit and shit. Also he has a shield that has chainsaw bits which disappointingly he never seems to use as a buzzsaw. Disappointed there. He sounds like Tarantulas and I can get behind that. I like how they mixed the helmet and hood costumes to develop his own distinctive look. Nice. Has a rivalry with Duke they try to hype up and that’s really lame. Honestly I feel CC should be kinda set apart from the Joes and it’s funnier if he probably can’t tell any of them apart.

4. Retribution? Re-something? RESOLUTE! That’s it!

Fucking loving this guys style. I love all the little changes they made to the costume to just make it so good. The change to the helmet to give it more shape, the tails on the coat and the shoulder cape! I love shoulder capes! It’s all just gorgeous. Clearly this is the handsome anime boy of the CCs. His voice is just mad sexy to me as well, then he swears and all the charm is ruined. Also he does that villain thing of shooting his subordinates when they displease him and that’s just not fun. I thought part of the reason you’d join Cobra as a grunt is cos like... they give the best health benefits out of any evil organisation? Surely that’s the only reason you’d put up with a CC tantrum? Marvel CC is a guy who single-handedly reinvigorated a towns whole economy, so you feel like CC is a guy who knows the benefits of providing good stuff to your employees. Don’t like it. Trying too hard to be a Serious(tm) cartoon.

5. IDW CC

I don’t really know much about him. In the comics I believe Cobra Commander is a rank? And anyone can be him, which certainly works as a take for such a faceless villain. Later he dies and then Baroness becomes Cobra Commander, and honestly, good for her.

6. Live action movie

Looks like he’s barely in the first one, also what even is that? Doesn’t look anything like him. Boo! Doesn’t have a fun voice. Has that typical ‘actor trying to sound scary’ voice when in your head you’ll definitely be thinking about Chris Latta screaming.

7. Renegades (getting mixed up between these Re-titles that take themselves too seriously)

What is this? I can see most of his face. Get out of here! Disqualified!

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this week - 28

3 by Miyazaki:

✳️✳️✳️ Never-Ending Man: Another wonderful NHK documentary about Old Man Hayao Miyazaki after his 2013 retirement, and as he slowly comes around to create one more animation, the short ‘Boro The Caterpillar’. It follows him unobtrusively for a couple of years, walking from his simple house to his office at the studio, drawing drawing, struggling with self doubt and old age, and yes - driving a bit in his old Citroën 2CV.

It’s such a privilege to be so close to a legendary artist and watch him at close range - 8/10.

✳️✳️✳️ Kiki's Delivery Service, one of my most favorite Ghibli masterpieces, about a 13 year old witch, who flies on a broom to a new city in order to build her independence. With a magical score by Joe Hisaishi. 

- Best film of the week!

✳️✳️✳️ Castle in the sky, Miyazaki’s 3rd feature from 1986, an cyberpunk adventure fantasy which contains many of the elements and characters which will show up fully formed in his later films: Sheeta looks like Kiki, Dola behaves like Yubaba, Pazu as a stand in for Haku, etc. I prefer his quieter, more personal, smaller stories.

✴️

Exit Plan (“Suicide Tourist”) is a Danish film about a quiet man with a terminal brain tumor who signs up for an upscale Norwegian hotel specializing in assisted end-of-life fantasies. Starts as a dark existential tale, ends with a kind of ambiguous mystery.

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau is the guy.

✴️

The Aerial  (”La Antena”) is an innovative Argentinian silent film from 2007,  about a city that had lost its voice, and its only savior, a boy without eyes who is crucified on a Star of David. It’s a surreal allegory in German expressionism style, a weird black & white fantasy about mind control. In short, a unique and inaccessible fairy tale.

“Mommy, are you there?...”

(Photo Above)

✴️

For comparison, I revisited ‘Un Chien Andalou’, Bunuel & Dalí disturbing, groundbreaking masterpiece. Even though every outrageous frame of it is part of history now, the raw imagery is still shocking - Pure id. I can’t imagine being in the room in 1929, and watching it for the first time. No wonder the two surrealists were disappointed at the audience's positive reception.

✴️

2 from French director Mia Hansen-Løve:

✳️✳️✳️ The Future / “Things to come“ from 2016. Isabelle Huppert is a resilient middle-aged philosophy professor whose life suddenly suffers multiple setbacks.

It only has 6 scenes with background music, each punctures the quiet delivery of the story at an emotional peak: A Schubert lieder, a Woodie Guthrie song on the radio, a lullaby...

I loved it!

✳️✳️✳️ Goodbye First Love tells about a romance between a 15 year old and a boy who leaves her, and then comes back 8 years later, after she settles down.

Unhurried, sensitive story-telling, reminisces of Eric Rohmer, with careful use of music and language. It also has a couple of scenes shot here at the Kastrup Sea Baths and on the grounds of Louisiana museum.

Loved it! I’m looking forward to see her new ‘’Bergman Island’.

✴️

Love in the afternoon, the last of Eric Rohmer’s ‘6 Moral Tales’. Exploration of sexual and spiritual virtues in 1972 Paris, by a traditional married man who carries on a platonic love affair with an old flame.

✴️

The White Ribbon - Austrian Michael Haneke’s dark, multi-layered tragedy. In 1913, a series of upsetting events occur in a small German village. A horse trips on a wire and injures its rider; a woman falls to her death through rotted planks; the local baron's son is hung upside down in a mill; parents bully their children; a man torments his long-suffering lover; another sexually abuses his daughter. People disappear.

Relentless inquiry into abuse, cruelty and despair. Shot in gorgeous Bergmansk black & white.

(This is an Italian speaking copy). 8/10

✴️

2 more from 1973:

✳️✳️✳️ First watch - Soylent Green, a pessimistic science fiction story happening in 2022. Very prescient in its dystopian prediction of global warming, over population, resource depletion and income equality.

The 2 minutes opening montage was paced brilliantly. 7/10

✳️✳️✳️ In Scarecrow, Gene Hackman and Al Pacino are two drifters who becomes friends as they hitchhike from California to Pittsburgh. 6/10

✴️

In Pig, Nicholas Cage is a reclusive mountain man, living out in the woods outside Portland, OR, gathering truffles with a female pig, who is his only friend. One night, some tweakers attack him and kidnap the pig. His journey to bring her back takes him on a surprising and completely unexpected places. 

Very un-American!

✴️

“… and Rex Hamilton as Abraham Lincoln”

6 episodes of the 1982 TV series Police Squad!,  a spoof of police procedurals - shorter and funnier than the Naked Gun movies which it later spawned. Zucker-Abrams-Zucker production.

“Who are you? And how did you get in here?

- "I'm a locksmith, and I'm a locksmith”

✴️

“Ever fired your gun in the air and yelled, 'Aaaaaaah?'”

Every time I watch Hot Fuzz, it gets better. "Not just one of the best comedies of all time, it’s one of the best movies of all time", for sure.

Editor Tony Zhou, of ‘Every Frame A Painting’, shot an excellent video essay ‘How to do visual comedy’ about Edgar Wright.

Jim Broadbent as Inspector Frank Butterman: “He had one thing you haven't got... A great, big, bushy beard! “

✴️

Re-watch: Wag the Dog, blackest of black comedies, utterly cynical, nihilistic view of politics. Americans can always be distracted, can always be manipulated, and can always be led to believe anything the powers-to-be needs them to. You can fool all of the people all of the time. 

“Look, look, look. He's fine as long as he gets his medications...”

Amazingly, it premiered one month BEFORE the Lewinsky scandal!

✴️

The Invisible Guest, a forgettable and predictable Spanish murder-mystery thriller from 2016. Best part was the soft, minimalist European style score (or am I just going deaf?)

✴️

How to Become a Tyrant, a new docu-series narrated by Peter Dinklage. 6 short episodes about Hitler, Stalin, Gaddafi, Kim Il-sung, Idi Amin and Saddam Hussein. (Mao is referred to, but doesn’t get his own chapter).

And it doesn’t mention trump, even as a Wanna be Dictator - probably because he didn’t succeed in his (first) attempt.

✴️

Seaspiracy, the most depressing documentary I’ve ever seen. Ali Tabrizi starts investigating plastic pollution in the ocean, and quickly realizes that it is commercial fishing that is the bane of our existence. Basically all fishing must be banned, as there will be no more live fish in the seas in 2048. There were some ‘controversies’ about the claims the movie makes, but they came from mainstream entities, who support incremental change.

Utterly disgusting: We deserve all that befall us.

✴️

A colorful and dramatic Vatican drama, The Two Popes, with excellent ‘Odd Couple’ performances by Anthony Hopkins as the first Pope in 700 years to step down and by Jonathan Pryce who doesn’t want to succeed him. Re-watch.

- - - - -

Throw-back to the art project:

Salvador Dali Adora.

Kiki Delivery Service Adora.

- - - - -

(My complete movie list is here)

[johnnys-green-pen]

Random E! Thoughts: S2E2 - Kids

HEY, it’s BOOT!

Johnny’s “You didn’t have to hurt his feelings” is even funnier given how much Boot generally dislikes him, lol

There’s something oddly endearing about Johnny shaking the dust out of his hair after he gets free from the hole

(and about instantly volunteering to go INTO the hole. Also leave it to Gage to look at a hole narrow enough for a kid to get stuck in and go “yeah, I’ll fit”)

Brackett being a frickin hero again

He has such a prickly reputation, and yet he’s such a fundamentally decent person, and always all too happy to risk his career on a hunch because it might save some unfortunate soul. 

#BrackettAppreciationPost

Okay but seriously, the more I watch these episodes, the more his sheer kindness stands out to me, and I’m continuously baffled by how much I end up pointing it out during these little posts. 

Joe Early is the more outright pleasant person between these two, but Brackett’s by far the bigger sap and it’s brilliant

Chet’s routine about how NICE it must be to be in an AIR-CONDITIONED HOSPITAL while they had to suffer in a burning trash- I MEAN BRUSHFIRE is just... Peak Chet Kelly. He does hilariously deadpan so very well.

Also, notice Roy protectively curling himself around Boot while asking if they can keep him? Yeah, there was no way that dog was going to get kicked out.

Ah yes, the good old “pet decides their favorite human is the one least enthusiastic about them being there” trope. 

Johnny playing along with the “sheriff” kids and actually putting his hands up I can’t even that’s too adorable

the injured hiker’s John Travolta in his first TV role, so that’s something you will now never be able to un-know. You’re welcome.

Johnny’s entire “big engines are so cool” routine and Roy’s reaction basically being “who, this weirdo? Nah, I don’t know him”

Imagine tiny kid Johnny sitting on a fallen tree or something pretending to be a cool, badass tillerman on a big, flashy engine omg

... okay, so, this episode really deserves more of an analysis, between the handling of child abuse and domestic violence and the juxtaposition of good parenting and bad parenting in this episode and the portrayal of families in E! as a whole, but I’m too far removed from the original sociocultural context to be comfortable analyzing that in-depth without doing a LOT more research than I’m willing to put in - and besides, this whimsical little “fun tidbits” post wouldn’t be the right format for that anyway.

Also: Chet’s subtle “””Indian””” Asshole Moment has been noted and dutifully ignored. I’ll have to talk about that can of worms in a few episodes anyway. 

[himbowelsh]

Plus sides to Liebgott passing for barely legal in his late twenties: he has the I'm older shut up Web card, no one looks at him weird when he skates at the park, people are secretly jealous of his looks because you know he will be looking younger than he actually is probably till the grey hair kicks in strong (courtesy of Mrs Liebgott DNA, she looks amazing)

I’m sorry I’m sorry I had to I had to

“So it happened again,” Web remarks, casual as anything, as he strides through the door half-weighed down by shopping bags. Joe looks up from the News app on his phone, brows furrowed. He can at least a dozen things that might have “happened again” during one of Web’s shopping sprees, and none of them are good. Some of them are publicly humiliating; at least one’s illegal.

Before he can even ask  ---  before he has the time to do anything more than sit up, suspicion tearing across his expression like a rabid badger’s claws  ---  a hurricane breezes inside in his boyfriend’s wake. Shaking off an umbrella while shutting the door with her foot, Joe’s mom doesn’t look ruffled at all by the storm outside...  or any of the shopping bags, which she’s clearly foisted on poor Web.

“It was funnier this time, actually.” Her voice echoes Joe’s familiar nasal tone, roughened slightly from the two decades of smoking she’s got on her son. Still, her tone is light. When she casts a red-lipped smirk over her shoulder, Joe’s stomach plummets, and he knows. He just...  knows.

“Goddammit, Web,” he hisses. “Will you stop dating my mom?”

Web is trying so hard not to laugh, and that only makes it worse, dammit. As he lowers the mass of shopping bags down in the middle of the kitchen, his head lowers with them. Joe still catches his shoulders shaking. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Don’t blame me,” chirps Joe’s mom. She maneuvers easily around the mess, bouncing on the balls of her feet. There’s a reason his mom was a Rockette for two years   ----   she hasn’t lost her dancer’s grace, or the figure that comes with it. In skinny jeans, her legs look longer than they have any right to; her blouse is a bright springy color, goddamn floral patterned. Nothing expensive  ---  they could never afford expensive shit, growing up with four kids on a single parent’s salary  ---  but if there’s one thing Joe’s mom knows, it’s how to dress cheap and look damn good.

Maybe that’s the reason why this is constantly happening. That, or what Joe’s sisters have (fucking obnoxiously) started calling ‘the Liebgott genes’.

“They were offering a couples’ discount,” is all Web says, shrugging helplessly. He hasn’t shaved today; the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, and his curls are artfully rustled. He looks like a damn college professor, not a kid still working towards his English masters.

And Joe’s mom...

Damn it, she could still pass as a Rockette. The spare streaks of grey in her hair “adds character”, or so she put it, and she’s got a point.

“That’s not an excuse!” Joe hisses, stalking to his feet, glare firmly fixed on Web. Mama makes no move to save him. As she busily rummages through the fridge, Joe advances, forcing Web to stumble until he backs into the kitchen counter.

“If I ever turned down something free with you in public  ---”

“That’s different!” Joe explodes.

“It really isn’t,” his mom chimes around a forkful of salad. “We Liebgotts are all the same. I had you cutting coupons with safety scissors in Pre-K.”

“And I was the best damn coupon-cutter you ever had!” He jabs a finger at her  ---  and Mom, to her credit,  doesn’t deny it. Instead she just smirks, fluttering her painted eyelashes and looking for all the world not a day over forty.

It works great for the girls, sure. Amy’s still got a baby face in her late twenties, Sarah hasn’t started whining about grey hair yet, and Becky laughs about getting carded whenever she has a DJ’ing gig. But Joe... Jesus Christ, it probably wouldn’t even bother him that much if the last time it hadn’t happened right in front of him. Looking at Joe and his mom side by side, it’s pretty clear who came from who, but when they called Webster his mom’s husband  ---

“That’s it!” He slams his hand down on the counter. His mom just raises her eyebrows. “The two of you? Not allowed to go out anymore. Nowhere ever again.”

“Then who’s gonna carry my bags?”

“Get a boyfriend your own age, how’s about?”

Webster — raises in the comfortable Madison Square Penthouse culture of respectful children and emotionally distant parents — gapes. Joe’s mom just narrows her eyes, showing off the slightest hint of crow’s feet, and purses her lips like she’s genuinely considering it.

“See, I would,” she replies, “but then we’d get those kinda looks in public. Like, ‘what’s this old bastard doing with a sexy piece of ass like that?’”

Webster makes his very distinct ‘having a heart attack’ squawk. Joe just throws his hands in the air. “You’re in your fifties!”

“Forty’s as high as I’ll go,” she declares, with all the finality of a multi-billionaire deciding on his fourth wife. “And that’s a big maybe. At best, thirty-five. David can pass for thirty-five, can’t you, Davey?”

“I — urhhh,” Webster hiccups.

“No fuckin’ way! A solid thirty, at best!”

“He’s got a bit of salt and pepper in his beard.”

“What?” Webster yelps, hand flying to his face. Joe’s resounding “bullshit” is drowned out by his mother’s cackling, and the chorus of Web’s vanity dying an agonizing death.

At least that means he’ll definitely shave tomorrow. There’s a very big difference between clean-shaven Web and stubbled Web. Maybe if Joe could actually grow a beard himself, he wouldn’t have so many opinions about it, but trial and error has taught them that’s an awful idea.

“Ah, shut up, Web, you look fine!”

“Be polite to your future stepfather,” Mama quips.

“Jesus fuck,” groans Joe.

Webster is searching for a mirror. Mama spears a piece of lettuce on her fork, impassive gaze following him out of the room. When she turns back to her only son, slumped at the kitchen table with his head in her hands, she actually manages not to smirk.

“Sorry for cursing you.” Leaning forward, she ruffles his thick hair. “Hey, at least you’ve got some lucky genes. No hair implants for you, baby boy.”

Joe runs a hand through his — admittedly gorgeous — hair, and heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Ah, well. Guess I gotta make the best of what I’ve got.”

His mother smirks. “How do you think we managed to raise you?”

[ducktracy]

134. shanghaied shipmates (1936)

release date: june 20th, 1936

series: looney tunes

director: jack king

starring: joe dougherty (porky), billy bletcher (captain, hippo)

perhaps inspired by MGM’s mutiny on the bounty in 1935, as well as coupled with jack king’s love of adventure cartoons, shanghaied shipmates (as the title suggests) details the harsh conditions porky and his shipmates endure thanks to a dictatorial captain.

on occasion, i’ve likened jack king to frank tashlin—both directors with a keen eye for cinematography. while tashlin is inarguably the better director, more confident and ambitious than king, king certainly thought in cinematographic terms, as the opening scene suggests. a mist overlay shrouds a seaside town as we hone in on a bar. our favorite pig is doing a dance front and center while a gang of rowdy drunkards cheer him on. a hippo plays tickles the ivory on dueling pianos, and a goat tugs ferociously on a rope connected to some heavy object offscreen—a giant mug of beer. all is well.

inside the bar, that is. the mist overlay compliments the foreboding atmosphere as we get a shot of a docked ship and a lone captain pacing around on deck. suddenly, a tiny little bespectacled dog (one of the supporting members of the i haven’t got a hat gang) hilariously ambles on deck, even climbing over the captain and hopping back down onto the floor, declaring “the crew’s deserted the blinkin’ ship!” the captain is far from pleased, snarling in his assistant’s (christened mr. stew) the only suitable comeback would be to shanghai the crew.

the two pace through the streets of town and break into the bar. there’s a rather tashlin-esque camera angle as the captain analyzes one cowardly drunk in particular. it comes off as random and slightly misplaced, but certainly an interesting angle that’s worthy of a kudos for experimentation. king experimented with his cinematography, but not much else. with a steely glare, the captain pummels his victim and sends him whirling back onto the ship. the process continues, and one by one victims whirl back into their place, the bar growing emptier by the second.

finally, all of the shipmates are back on deck... except one. porky attempts to hide, diving into the inside of a piano, but his tail sticking out of the doors tells on himself immediately. the captain drags him out, grinning condescendingly as porky insists “you can’t do this to me!” of course he can! the captain, relatively unbothered, shoos porky along, giving a bellowing laugh and smacking porky in the butt to get him to go.

highly amusing setup as porky now scrubs the deck of the ship with the most contemptuous expression, glaring absolute daggers at the captain who surveys his every movement. porky’s disdain gets to him, and in an act of rebellion he slips the soap from his grip and slides it all the way to where the captain is marching. and, of course, the captain slips, none too pleased. porky acknowledges what he’s done, naive mischief now replaced with visible anxiety as he braces for punishment. said punishment: a bar of soap shoved down his piggy gullet. once more, porky insists “you can’t do this to me!”, but a hiccup spawning a multitude of bubbles destroys any sort of authority or credibility.

porky goes back to scrubbing when one of his shipmates checks to see what all the fuss is about. a hiccup later and porky attempts to explain himself, hindered by not only a stutter but an entire bar of soap lodged in his throat, eventually gagging “agh-agh-aghh, soap!” thankfully, his buddy is a good sport. the shipmate pulls porky’s tail and slingshots it back, propelling the soap out of his mouth and back onto the deck... where it ends up perfectly in position in front of the lumbering captain, who falls victim to the bar of soap once more. a hippo sticks his head out from inside the ship just to guffaw at the captain—he gets his as the captain placed him in stocks, forcing a cat to lick his feet while the captain bellows in laughter.

after some more mismanagement of the shipmates, we now go to lunch as a dog blares the lunch fanfare through a tuba. a stampede of starving shipmates trample him in seconds, the dog weakly blaring out a few more notes after the fact. a gag very similar in nature to boom boom, another king entry.

certainly nothing can go wrong at lunch, right? an expectant porky observes as the captain stalls with his heaping bowl of fried chicken. porky is so deprived of food that he can hardly contain his unadulterated glee, slapping his face and bouncing up and down and running his hands together. at first i found the scene to be much more disconcerting than anything, but now that i rewatch it, it’s pretty funny in a very unconventional and off-putting manner. funnier than what was intended to be.

paul smith animates the shipmates receiving their hearty meals: nothing but a plain old bone, the captain stripping every single piece of chicken of its contents. the shipmates are not at all happy. a hippo folds his arms in rebellion, a dog resorts to scarfing down his own hat as a means of sustenance, another chopping his bone to pieces and rolling his eyes all around, and even porky tearfully pouring salt on his bone and pitifully licking it off. the scene is unfortunately hindered by the restrained simplicity of smith’s animation, and thusly doesn’t reach its potential in terms of humor. once more, wannabe rebel porky reaches out for a fully packed chicken leg, receiving a slap of the wrist and a bone down the throat in shock instead.

a week crawls on, and the shipmates are more stir crazy than ever. they bang their mugs against the dining hall table, all chanting “we want food! we want food!” in unison. finally fed up, porky crawls onto the table and signals for the rest of the gang to huddle in as he whispers a plan. just then, mr. smee mr. stew pokes his head into the dining hall and is surprisingly smart enough to put two and two together. the animation of him going to alert the captain, scrambling all around the deck and twirling around a pole, is very amusing and funny. “mutiny, captain! mutiny!”

the rowdy shipmates continue to demand for their food as the captain barges into the dining hall, armed with duel pistols. a ballsy porky marches up to the captain and asserts “we demand food!” but, of course, his diminutive size is nothing for the giant captain, who merely blows him over and pins him against the wall with a deep breath. with that, porky orders “c’mon, men! get ‘im!” and thus sparks mutiny on the bounty as all of the men tackle the captain, gunshots firing in defense.

porky himself sets his sights on mr. stew. certainly one of the funniest moments in a king cartoon as porky pins mr. stew down, mr. stew holding up a hand to pause for a second. he signals to his glasses, lifting them up as if to say “would you hit a guy with glasses?” even better, mild-mannered porky gingerly places them aside, and then wastes no time as he decks mr. stew in the face repeatedly. great timing and great unspoken dialogue.

now the fight rages on on the deck of the ship, some shipmates even flying overboard and jumping ship. porky leads his crusade to victory as they all charge towards the captain. in retaliation, the captain whips a menacing cannon right in front of them, threatening to knock them all over like vengeful bowling pins.

however, his plan backfires (no pun intended): he shoots, and the force of the shot is so tremendous that the captain is scooped onto the cannon as it rolls backwards and propels itself into the air. he lands in the comfort of a bunch of crates. crates labeled as explosives. one explosion later, and the shipmates are singing merrily, lazily drifting across the ocean current on a raft, porky in the lead and armed with a whip. pan over to the captain pulling the entire caravan of crusaders, receiving a few hearty whips from porky as we iris out.

i didn’t think much of this cartoon when i first saw it, but i certainly appreciate it more now. not phenomenal by any means, and still hides in the shadow of tex and friz. the gags don’t always hit, some scenes suffering from a lack of confidence and conviction. however, with that said, this was an ambitious cartoon and certainly adventurous. though it didn’t always work out in his favor, king worked ambitiously and experimented with camera angles and surreal ideas, but his execution was where his cartoons were bogged down. good ideas that struggled to be realized. i give him credit for attempting experimenting so much! i’ve certainly gained respect for him (though his cartoons unfortunately don’t really rival the others during this time period.) this was a high energy cartoon that had its moments, such as mr. stew’s run cycles, porky contemptuously scrubbing the ship deck, and the fight scene between porky and mr. stew. i think this is one of king’s more interesting cartoons and would fare well as a single watch, but that’s probably about it.

link!

[whiskynottea]

An Interruption in the 1st Law of Thermodynamics.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41

AO3

Thank you @theministerskat, for keep betaing this story that goes on forever!❤️ Also, thanks to the @faeriesfanficemporium and @futurelounging for the high school graduation information!

This chapter is for @muykonos, who loves Jenny and Ian dearly, with the best wishes for her new beginning! Love you Muy!

Chapter 42. Puffins

The last time we called ourselves high school students was on a sunny summer day. We found ourselves listening to a long winded speech from our headteacher, one that would make every person in the room extremely anxious about the future - if we had actually been listening to him. I could still hear his voice buzzing in my ears when Jamie found me, took me in his arms and spun me around for so long that I wasn’t sure if he was happy because we had just graduated, or because this would be the last time we had to sit through a speech from Mr. Gowan. We loved him, but he had that bad habit of never stopping once he started speaking.

After graduation, the days felt different. They were continuous, shapeless, careless. Time didn’t matter. No alarm clocks, no hurried breakfasts, no studying schedules.

No school.

Joe and Gail left for a trip to the US, a present from their parents, to celebrate their successful exam results. Rupert and Angus had gone back to the Highlands, and Jenny and Ian would soon leave for Lallybroch. Edinburgh seemed empty already.

Jamie spent more and more time training. He had a few weeks to prepare for the Scottish National Championship, and there were whole days when I would only see him briefly before or after his time at the pool. Neither of us complained; the championship was a priority for both of us. But I missed him. And I knew that I would miss him even more when he would leave for Lallybroch.

My favorite days were Mondays. More specifically, Monday afternoons. These were the days when Jamie finished his training early and we would meet Jenny and Ian at Murtagh’s apartment for coffee and board games. Two teams, always the same players. And I was proud to say that Jenny and I were on a winning streak.

We had just finished another successful round of Pictionary, when Ian walked to the center of the room and carefully unfolded an old piece of paper. His smile was shy at the beginning, but it became more and more cheeky as he read.

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline and barely I stopped myself from barking out a laugh when I realized what he was reading.

Jenny Fraser’s, or more correctly, Janet Flora Arabella Fraser’s letter to Santa.  

Dear Santa,

My name is Janet Flora Arabella Fraser, but everyone calls me Jenny. You can call me that too. I live at Lallybroch, together with my mam, my da, and my wee brother. I canna write yet, so my mam is writing this for me, but I promise I will know all my letters when I go to school at Beauly, and I will write to you myself next year.

I have been very good this year and am nice to everyone. I even play with Jamie when he brings his silly swords into my room, and I pretend to lose and die, even though I could beat him every time. The one time I won, he got angry and as red as a tomato. Anyway, I also help my mom cook. And I feed Bran every day. And I clean my room. (Jamie doesn’t, but bring him a gift anyway, okay?)

I am writing to you, because I want a puffin and da said I can’t have one. We have birds here at Lallybroch, but I haven’t seen a puffin yet. I will love it and take care of it, I promise.

Please, it’s all I truly want for Christmas!

Love,

Jenny

PS I know the Santa we saw at Beauly with my mom wasn’t real, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want the wee bairn in his lap to cry.

PSS My mom doesn’t know what puffins eat. Can you bring me some of their food too?

Ian had to stop more than once while reading, almost choking with laughter. I brushed tears from my eyes, feeling Jamie’s silent amusement shaking my body. Jenny was hiding her face in her hands, her struggle to catch her breath audible in the room.

“How dare you,” she finally said, her own face as red as a tomato now. “How dare you, Ian Murray?” she repeated, and started laughing again.

Ian shrugged, then smiled at her. “I dinna remember seeing a puffin at Lallybroch,” he said quietly, as if he hadn’t even heard her question. “Did ye ever get your puffin, Jenny?”

Jamie spoke before his sister could. “Nah, she didna, Ian,” he said, the smile audible in his voice. “Not that year, or the years after that. She kept asking for one, though.”

“Aye, that was what I remember too,” Ian replied, nodding, his face serious.

“What is this all about?” Jenny asked with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest.

I was wondering exactly the same thing.

“It’s about puffins, Jen,” Ian said softly. “I think it’s about time ye see one.”

“You got me a puffin?” Jenny asked, incredulous.

“Puffins live free, Jenny,” Jamie rolled his eyes. “I think mam and da told ye that a million times.”

“So what is this…” Jenny’s words faded as Ian walked to her and kneeled on the floor in front of her.

“Tis a gift,” he said, and presented her with an envelope. “For ye. To thank ye, for all that ye are to me.”

I was sure the tears that shone in Jenny’s eyes had nothing to do with the ones brought up by her boisterous laughter only moments ago. She swallowed hard and took the envelope from Ian’s hands. “What did you do?” she asked, in a accusing way that came out even funnier in her cracked voice.

I turned in Jamie’s arms and looked at him, the question obvious on my face. His satisfied, wide smile confirmed my suspicion that he knew exactly what was going on. He lowered his head and kissed me, his lips hot against mine, before urging me to look back towards his sister. I turned to look at Jenny, feeling a shiver run through my body when Jamie’s lips found the nape of my neck. I shimmied to make him stop, and watched Jenny, her attention focused on the paper she had pulled from the envelope.

“Five days?” she asked, at last. “Five days just the two of us?”

“Aye,” Ian whispered, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “To see the puffins.”

Jenny sprang from the couch straight into his lap, squeezing him so tight that I was sure if it would last a moment longer he would suffocate. Ian’s face, however, was the definition of happiness, and his smile, the sweetest I had ever seen.

I felt Jamie wrap his arms tighter around my body, pulling me closer to him.

“Any unfulfilled requests from Santa, Sassenach?” he whispered in my ear.

I took a moment, thinking, unable to remember any. “I don’t know,” I said. “A mummy, maybe? Given the fact that I was in Egypt…”

“Christ, Claire,” he chuckled. “I’m not buying ye a mummy.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Friends,” I said a moment later, and the truth in my words stuck thick in my throat like a piece of stale bread, grazing the tissue, blocking my breath. I swallowed with difficulty, pushing back memories of a lonely childhood, Jamie’s arms around me suddenly feeling overwhelming. “I was always asking for friends.”

“I’ll be yer friend, Sassenach,” Jamie whispered, his voice sweet and honest, and he nuzzled my neck. “Always.”

I swallowed back tears and let my body sink into his warmth, hoping that his heartbeat against my back was telling the truth.

Always.

I looked at Jenny, who was beaming, and gave her a broad smile. I was happy for her and for Ian, who was looking at her like she hung the moon. But it was more than that. I was happy that I was there to share that moment with them, for finally feeling that sense of belonging I had always longed for.

“We’re going to the Orkney!” she announced, excited. “I’m going to see the puffins!”

And like that, she was a little girl again, getting the gift she had always dreamed of.

“What are the puffins, exactly?” I asked, not knowing that I would sorely regret my question ten minutes later, when Jenny was still talking about the clumsy, comical birds who were expert divers and underwater fliers, laid one precious egg every year and left Scotland for the north Atlantic and North Sea outside the breeding season.

“Ye’re going to pay for that, Sassenach,” Jamie murmured in my ear, his fingers drawing patterns on my side.

“Am I not paying for it already?” I asked, making him laugh.

“Aye, but what about my suffering?”

I grimaced and mouthed a sorry. As Jenny went on talking about the puffins, Jamie leaned closer to me, whispering in my ear in his proud brother’s voice, “Jenny wants to see the birds to draw them, ken? She loves their colours.”

Of course. Jenny wanted to go to art school and nothing else would be more inspiring than the wild landscape of Orkney and the wildlife, full of birds, seals, and whales.

It would be beautiful.

--

That night Jamie was remarkably silent as he walked me home.

“What’s the matter?” I finally asked, and he turned to look at me surprised, as if he had forgotten I was even there. He didn’t reply. “Won’t you tell me?” I insisted, but the initial surprise has well-hidden now, his features calm, unfazed, his mask covering thoughts and problems.

“What?” He pretended that he hadn’t understood and gave me a small smile.

It wasn’t enough.

“Jamie.” I stopped and pulled him back to me. “You may not have my glass face, but I can see right through you.”

“It’s nothing,” he said with a frown and a shrug. When he saw me rolling my eyes, he pressed his lips tight, took a deep breath through his nose, and repeated. “Tis nothing, really.”

“You’re too silent. This isn’t nothing.” I cupped his face with my hand, his blue eyes melting as they met mine.

“I love ye, Claire,” he whispered, pressing his lips lightly against my forehead.

“I know, I love you too.” I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He turned around, instead, and started walking again.

Stubborn Scot.

I sighed a few times along the way, trying to show him that our conversation wasn’t over and I was far from being convinced he was okay. He kept ignoring me and I sighed a few more times – not that it made any difference. Finally, a few blocks from home I stopped walking, this time without any attempt to pull him back to me.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” he asked, surprised once again.

“You tell me.”

“I tell…” The realization hit him before he finished his question. “I told ye! Tis fine!” he exclaimed, his hand messing with his hair.

I looked at him for a long moment, my jaw set, my arms crossed across my chest. Waiting. He didn’t speak. I bit my lip hard, nodding, and started walking again. When I brushed by him, I wished him a goodnight and continued towards my place.

“Where are ye going?” His voice came distraught, but I neither stopped nor answered his question. “Claire!”

“Home,” I said sharply, feeling my heart clench inside my chest.

I thought we could tell each other everything.

“Sassenach!” He was next to me within two wide strides, his hand gripping my arm. “What the hell! Why are ye doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything, Jamie.” I wished the words were as painful to him as they were to me, burning my chest. “I can walk home alone. Since we’re not talking anyway.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes at me and let out a short breath through his nose. “Okay,” he said, nodding repeatedly. “Okay.”

“Okay, then. Goodnight.” I started walking again, but his hand stopped me and pulled me back to him.

“Ah Dhia… Ye’re not going to make it easy, right?”

“I? I’m the one who’s making things difficult? You’re obviously not okay and you won’t even talk to me! You won’t even admit that you’re not okay! You’re lying to my face!”

“I’m not lying to yer face!”

“Oh, really?” I asked, my voice sarcastic.

We stood there, breathing fast, our eyes locked in a game of power. I saw his mask slowly melting away, leaving behind only Jamie, my Jamie, as he had always been with me. My Scot.

“Jamie,” I started again, now letting my worry seep in my voice. “What good can I do, when you don’t even trust me with your problems? When you won’t even talk to me?”

He kept silent, and I could hear every beat of my heart crying out to his. Pleading to let me in.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking his eyes from mine and fixing them on the street. “I’m sorry, Sassenach, I didna mean for ye to think I’m lying to ye. Or that I dinna want to talk to ye. It’s just that...” he stopped, and took a breath as if he had to fortify himself.

“What?” I asked, holding my breath, suddenly afraid of what was to come.

“See… I’m not enough.”

I stood shock-still, trying to process what I had just heard. I hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this.

“Hey,” I whispered, grabbing a fistful of his tee-shirt, and took the last step that kept as apart. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye no see how happy Jenny was tonight? What Ian did for her… I’ve done nothing for you.”

“Oh god, Jamie…” I ran my fingers across his jawline, his cheekbones, through his hair, feeling my heart melting. “You’ve done so many things for me. I don’t need a trip or a gift to be happy.” Jamie didn’t talk, and I continued, hoping that my words would ring true in his heart. “I’m happy because I’m with you, because you’re in my life.”  

“Aye, but I’m not in yer life that much lately,” he said, and I stupidly thought that his lowered eyebrows made him even more adorable than he already was.

“But that’s just a phase,” I said, my voice strong, sure. “It’s not going to be like that forever.”

Jamie looked at me and a small smile curled his lips. “No, it’s not,” he said, but the smile disappeared again. “But d’ye remember, Sassenach, when we started texting? I had promised you we would go everywhere, and now school has finished and we canna even go on a wee trip in Scotland.”

I smiled, thinking of our very first chat, the night he walked me home. We would travel the world, we had said. Starting from Paris.

“Jamie, we have time,” I said, and meant it. “We will travel, we don’t have to do it right now.”

“Aye, but I didna plan anything for us… Ian has been organizing this trip for so long, and I… With school and training…” He kept trailing off.

I raised onto my tiptoes, pulled him down to me and kissed him, our lips meeting in a soft whisper that soon became a long dance. Unhurried.

“We have time,” I repeated, my whisper brushing against his mouth. “We’re together, and that’s what counts. I’m perfectly happy with staying in Edinburgh. It’s the same to me.” I ran my fingers through his locks, and rested my forehead against his.

“Is it, though?” he asked, and I could almost taste the worry in his words.

“It is, you bloody Scot. It’s our first summer together, but we’re going to have a lot more after that. Right?” I asked, and felt my heart racing in my chest.

This can’t be our last summer together.

“Right,” he breathed and kissed me. “More and more and more…” Each promise coming with another kiss, sealing it.

“Good,” I said, and softly kissed the tip of his long, straight nose.

“But still,” he started again and I sighed, exasperated. “If I go straight to Lallybroch after the nationals… ”

“It will still be okay.” I locked my eyes with his, and neither of us spoke for a long moment.  

“But I’ll be away,” he continued, fear taking the better of him.

Bloody distance. But I had to be the brave one this time.

“Jamie!” I raised my voice and cupped his face with both my hands. “Look at me.” He did. “No matter where you are, I love you. Here, at Lallybroch, in the end of the world. I love you. And I promise you will get bored of me when we’ll live together in Oxford.”

“That willna happen,” he disagreed, and pulled me to him for a kiss.

It was sweet and hopeful, but it quickly became thirsty and urgent. Promising that he would never have enough of me.

“We’ll see,” I said when we broke our kiss, and I laced our fingers together. “Now walk me home, you bloody fool. And never think that you’re not enough.”

Chapter 43

[loulougoingsolo]

Cheez whizzing mayo

I suffer from some level of facial blindness, which usually is a problem in real life, but apparently it can be an issue while watching GMM, too. My initial reaction when seeing Thomas Lennon's face on screen was, it's the guy from Brooklyn 99 (Joe Lo Truglio). After a quick google search I realized I was all wrong, but thankfully, I also found proof that other people have made the same mistake. Looking at the two guys images side by side, they look clearly different, but that is not an excuse, especially since I have watched Reno 911, and quite a few films in which Thomas Lennon starred.

My dad studied in Germany, and my family has always had a strong bond to sausages. A really good German bratwurst is one of the few meat products I sometimes crave, but luckily there are some pretty ok substitutes these days. Back in the 90s when I first tried to find something vegetarian to eat in sausage form, the only thing readily available was this horrifying canned sausage product which tasted like sawdust. I doubt anything served ln today's GMM had quite as bad a mouth feel as those canned wieners did.

I love Thomas making fun of the hipster weirdos (aka Mythical crew) serving the sausages. And when he started to fight the Veagle Beagle for the sausage patty while Link was growling on behalf of the toy pooch, his comment on "Three grown men" was very insightful. Rhett and Link have that way about them, they act like little kids, and get their guests to do the same!

Oh man, Thomas just got funnier in More! The slightly sour comments about the warm mayos were hilarious, and Link looked like he wasn't sure if he should be worried or laugh at the joke. The discriptions of the mayos were also so funny. That yellowish one did look like human secretion.

I think my knowledge of popular culture is a bit dated. When Link read "Miso mayo" like "me so horny" my brain went straight to the source in Full Metal Jacket. But of course, Link's pop culture references are from hip hop. I doubt he's even seen Kubrick's films. But I just love how he saw those words, and instead of just accepting them as an accurate title for a miso flavoured mayo, he turned into a questionable joke.

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Worst of 2018

Before we dig into my Worst of 2018 list, let’s make something clear. Making movies is hard. I may be criticizing people’s efforts but am fully aware that they’ve all accomplished far more than I have by making an actual movie. Even the worst film on this list is still a fully-functional production that someone somewhere might enjoy... theoretically at least. If you were somehow involved in anything made on this list, I know you can do better. With that said, I sat through all of these, some multiple times and suffered so it’s time for me to get my revenge. How many were on the list I made halfway through the year, and how many new entries have we got?

10. 2.0

I typically reserve my #10 spot for a movie so bad it’s good and 2.0 is just that. Part techno-horror, part supernatural thriller, part superhero adventure, part sci-fi action movie, it goes in all sorts of outrageous directions. This one’s a gem, a picture I’d like to bring home and show to my friends on our weekly movie nights to hear their screeches of disbelief. I had a blast with it but legitimately good? Nah.

9. Show Dogs

I have some affection for this film as well. It’s awful, even as low-grade children’s entertainment. The plot has no idea what it’s doing and can’t figure out its own rules. The special effects are dodgy, premise idiotic, and jokes bad. And yet, I treasure seeing it in theatres. Soon after its release, a specific scene stirred uproar within parents and critics alike. This prompted the studio to re-edit the film. The scene in question concerns Ludacris’ character, talking police dog Max getting ready for the dog show he needs to infiltrate in order to discover who has kidnapped a baby panda. His partner, FBI agent Frank Nicholas (Will Arnett) explains that part of the competition involves the dogs getting their genitals inspected by the judges. In real-life, it’s to ensure the animals are capable of breeding. Finding the idea of someone fondling his junk without his consent intolerable, Max is told to escape the situation by going to his “zen place”. I didn’t take offense to it but understand why others would. I doubt the scene is available in the home release’s deleted scenes menu so I count myself among the few who saw the original cut.

8. Selfie from Hell, Slenderman & Truth or Dare

I’m lumping these three together because they all suffer from the same problem. They were doomed from the start. “What if a game of Truth or Dare… was fatal?” What if you could only take 13 selfies before a supernatural entity came after you?”, “What if severe head trauma caused H.P. Lovecraft’s intelligence to plunge and he set “The Call of Cthulhu” in the 21st century?” seemed to have been the opening pitches for these would-be spookfests. None featured any scares or compelling characters. I doubt anyone will remember any of these by the time 2019 ends.

7. Robin Hood

Many of 2018's films ended by assuring us that more was yet to come. Robin Hood should've saved itself the embarrassment of being yet another aspiring franchise which failed to take off and been self-contained. It failed because it tried to be a superhero film when it should’ve simply been a movie about Robin Hood. This story by Ben Chandler steals so many ideas from Batman you almost forget to criticize the costumes, the impossible action sequences, and Jamie Foxx’s bad performance. It’s dripping with “tries too hard”.

6. Life of the Party

Boy does Melissa McCarthy need a new Agent. Her and Tiffany Haddish actually. Life of the Party is all-around lazy. It hardly has a plot. Instead, it throws one scene after another, praying something will stick. This film about a newly-divorced mother who goes back to college to reconnect with her daughter can’t even get its characters right. In some scenes, McCarthy’s Deanna is mousey and unable to give a speech to the class. In others, she’s such a partier she ends up wrecking everything for everyone around her. I hated the film’s conclusion worst of all, a deus-ex-machina of an ending which has nothing to do with anything and feels like it was hastily shot when director Ben Falcone and co-writer/spouse McCarthy realized the film they made wasn’t amounting to anything.

5. Fifty Shades Freed

Fifty Shades Darker was terrible. It began by immediately undoing the ending of the previous film but at least it was building up to something while introducing us its equivalent of the Legion of Doom, a trio of villains all of which would converge and attempt to ruin the relationship between Anastasia Steele, and Christian Grey… or not. This third and final chapter struggles to find something to do for the first three quarters and then suddenly introduces a thriller element before rapidly concluding it and showing us the end credits. The unrated version released on home video filled in a couple of holes (such as Kim Basinger’s disappearing character) but those holes shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Between the un-erotic sex scenes, we’re treated to lame melodrama and further proof this trilogy is completely oblivious to matters of love and relationship. Even if it had been well acted and gave fans some satisfaction by adequately tackling some of the bigger questions the series posed, it would’ve still been bad.

4. Venom

I didn’t want to listen to people who proclaimed Venom would never work. The character has appeared in solo adventures before. There’s nothing to say a talented writer couldn’t make one of Spider-Man’s most well-known archenemies work on his own. Or maybe not. This is an appallingly written film full of plot holes, vaguely defined powers, bad humor, and illogical actions. In many ways, it reminds you of films like Ghost Rider and Catwoman. In a way, it’s worse than either because everyone involved should’ve known better. Making its flaws doubly apparent is the film Upgrade, released earlier during the year. It essentially did what this film wanted to but better, funnier and more inventively. It’s extra funny that Upgrade features Logan Marshall-Green, who looks a lot like Tom Hardy, making the pair a perfect double feature if you like to compare bad movies with good ones and discuss them with friends.

3. A Wrinkle in Time and The Nutcracker and the Four Realms

These Disney films, the first directed by Ava DuVernay and the second by a combined effort by Lasse Hallström and Joe Johnston, wanted to be empowering female-led fantasy adventures. A Wrinkle in Time is historic in that it’s the first $100 million+ film directed by a woman of color. This makes it extra disappointing because it’s awful. Both tales are filled with developments who inspire you to say “but I don’t care”. Overrelying on visual razzle-dazzle, neither of these had any substance whatsoever. I blame the writers, who took the original stories and tried to make them into something they weren’t. Much of AWiT could’ve worked if the story had kept some of its novels' Christian themes. Then the evil black cloud who does evil for evil’s sake would’ve simply been Satan and wouldn't have seemed nearly as lazy and underwhelming. By attempting to force The Nutcracker and the Mouse King into the same mould as Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland (another bad film), you robbed the ballet of any potential charm. In many ways, these are worse than most of the others on my list because you keep hoping something would turn around and because they’re not obviously bad, at least not at first. They fill you with false hope.

2. Life Itself

I should’ve known this Dan Fogelman creation was trouble from the advertisements, which built it up as this epic tale containing all of the universes’ deepest truths. I sat there aghast as one corny development followed another. This tries to be poetry in motion, this grandiose tale about the bonds which connect us and not one second works. It’s utterly ridiculous, so bad it might be funny except you’ll be bored by its nearly 2-hour running time. 

The Runner ups:

Nobody’s Fool & Night School

Both featured Tiffany Haddish who is rapidly burning through any goodwill she might’ve earned with her breakout role in Girls Trip.

Holmes & Watson

Bad movie but it made me laugh more than the other films on this list

Book Club

A film I’m kicking myself for not being harder on when I first reviewed it but take comfort in the fact it seems to have dropped off the earth completely.

1. The 15:17 to Paris

Agonizingly dull, The 15:17 to Paris was well-intentioned. That doesn’t translate to “entertaining”. Most of this film’s 94 minutes are spent watching the real life Spencer Stone, Anthony Sadler and Alek Skarlatos vacationing through Europe, periodically flashing back to the time when they met and were the real-life non-actors were played by equally bad child performers. I hated this flat slab of propaganda masquerading as entertainment so much after it was over I had to turn to the other people around me and ask them what we just saw.

[anthonybialy]

Expensive Speech

The First Amendment is just another part of the Constitution Joe Biden loathes. Now you're going to condemn him for consistency? President Velcro risibly tries to run your life even though nothing in the rulebook authorizes any of his regrettable infiltrations. An executive whose made full use of his right as an American and person to blabber wants to cut your microphone.

Please don't feel intimidated by someone in power abusing it as he wonders aloud why you can keep claiming he's a clueless dunce. Misadventures in censorship are especially appalling considering he's spent his life full of it.

This column has not been verified by White House officials. I'd encourage taking a screenshot before the letters are confiscated as evidence against me during my trial for subversion. To further irk my federal minder, I am compelled to call free speech infringements chilling. It's the Columnist Code. But clichés come along because they contain enough truth to be repeated frequently. You're free to say anything you'd like as long as it's been approved by a White House that thinks calling child care infrastructure is honest.

You'll murder us all. Hysteria serves as the present reason for not letting you do something, in this case open your noise hole and repeat something you read on Town Hall. Type away as long as you don't say what you want.

Using the virus as an excuse is coincidental just like how elected hall monitors fapped while proclaiming which businesses were allowed to conduct business. It's so unpredictable that the current crisis is conveniently used to stifle opposition. I hope the Truth Patrol can't recognize deadpan irony.

Shut up for your health. Symptoms include lust for control and innate insecurity. The most noticeable result from the virus of statism is living out every sick fantasy sufferers have about control. Pretending they weren't pleased a virus came along to enable domination is the toughest part.

The anti-whispering campaign is going as well as every other Democratic virus-fighting initiative. A party that said your selfishness was a form of genocide has lost the war against COVID-19 like they're abandoning the South Vietnamese. It's no wonder they bristle at noticing precedent.

Halting sanctimonious initiatives is apparently not an option. Aggressively enthusiastic liberals want to squash skepticism as if it were being uttered by New York nursing home residents. There's only one way to ensure witnesses won't blab.

Misinformation is anything that makes Democrats uncomfortable.  Trust their definition or be fined. Finding errors is the excuse used by every aspiring fascist who fantasizes about the 21st -century equivalent of smashing printing presses.

Dynamiting servers is necessary to preserve life.  Free speech is killing people, according to an administration that doesn't even feign guilt over disregarding shamelessness.

Federal word auditors are taking your rights for your safety, money for your security, and decisions for your freedom from horrible autonomy.  I'd trust the accuracy rate of anyone criticizing this dopey administration more than any of its perpetually dishonest stooges. People are allowed to be wrong, you know. Biden does it all the time so we can learn from his poor example.

Moronic political science majors who sucked up enough to get White House jobs want to control people in general and what they can say in particular. To them, shredding the Bill of Rights from the top means they're on message. Meanwhile, your message has been rejected by law. The indignant reflex they exhibit about anything resembling dissent says so much, which for the record is also constitutionally protected.

Perhaps I'm just jealous of Jen Psaki because of her kind compassion. The particularly likable embodiment of everything joyous about humanity dispenses bull excrement constantly even by the standards of presidential press secretaries. I'm almost impressed. Enablers are the real criminals. Being fibbed to by Democrats is the preferred fetish of media members who perversely get off on television channels that don't have to be ordered by show.

Every last thing Biden says, has ever said, or will ever say is a lie. Only taxing the particularly successful would be a terrible notion even if he stuck to it, which of course he won't. The government is not only authorized to run your life but is quite skilled at it, if your source is said government.

Daft views on science make the assault on the ability to be incorrect even funnier. Try not to giggle in the principal's office. Breathing through cloth has done nothing but keep carbon dioxide from getting exhaled if you wonder why people seem particularly cloudy. But at least shutting down society did nothing to halt a rampaging virus that managed to climb through door seams.

They're called Blue States due to lack of oxygen. Andrew Cuomo choosing your grandma's roommate allowed Corpse Mountain to surpass Mount Marcy as the erstwhile Empire State's highest peak. Yet nobody from the White House demands their latest Jim Jones have his Twitter account revoked.

A White House that's proficient at business and constitutional law must be experts in communication aside from how they can't express their awful ideas clearly. Washington gives away vaccinations and still can't get people to take them. The reluctance must be caused by meanies at right-wing online rags who ruined what would otherwise be your leaders efficiently dispersing lifesaving treatment as usual.

The only debate about those who feel speech is a luxurious privilege is whether they're liars or ignorant. Such arguments would be prohibited by the Ministry of Misinformation. Inventing its name like I just did right there will be considered libelous blasphemy. The federal agency charged with measuring truthfulness will imprison and damn me. Promise you'll visit?

It's merely extra horrifying that the professionally mendacious want to determine who else is full of it. But I don't want them to shut up. Please keep talking. Sure, it's unpleasant to listen to a shaky president who's been a doddering old fool long before he turned 384. But enduring dolts is the surest way to discredit them.

Wanting to let people decide is dangerous to their enemies. The lifetime politician who made his way to the White House despises markets in every way. It's a definite sign of confidence to scrutinize the site where your mom checks the neighborhood free stuff page for vaccine doubts. Biden and those at his workplace forging his signature don't trust humans to figure out anything, which can only be more appalling considering they're wrong about everything.

[wazafam]

With there being so many absurd characters crawling around Albuquerque, the population of Breaking Bad is part of what made the show quickly become the gold standard of television. Thankfully, with the spin-off, Better Call Saul, many of the recurring characters can live on, as not all of them were given the screen time they deserved the first time around.

RELATED: Better Call Saul: 5 Reasons Kim Is The Best Character (& 5 Why It's Still Jimmy)

Between drug addicts doing anything they possibly can to score, old friends of Walt’s who are way too condescending, and well-meaning friends of Jesse’s who went down the wrong path, there’s so much depth to even the smallest of recurring characters. But not all of them are as lovable as Skinny Pete.

10 Best: Badger

From taking out a crossbow into the desert on his first crystal meth cook, to pointing a laser pen at Gretchen and Elliot as if it’s a sniper rifle, to theorizing about Star Trek, Badger is possibly the funniest character on the show.

The self-proclaimed Lord of the Dance and his incredible sign flipping skills might come as a package with Skinny Pete, as the two are inseparable, but Badger stands on his own as a great character.

9 Worst: Bogdan

With the Breaking Bad universe going on to consume a giant criminal underworld that includes a sketchy billion-dollar conglomerate and neo-nazi compounds, the expansive world is one of the highlights.

But it all started with a little car wash and it’s owner, Bogdan, who is one of the most arrogant characters in the whole series. Bogdan always spoke down to Walt, which is why it felt great when he got his comeuppance, even if Walt had turned full Heisenberg by that point.

8 Best: Kuby

The introduction of the criminal lawyer Saul Goodman is one of the reasons season two is one of the show’s best seasons, and if it wasn’t for Saul, fans would have never gotten Kuby.

RELATED: Better Call Saul: Jimmy's 10 Best Schemes, Ranked

Kuby is one of Saul’s henchmen and somewhat of a handyman, as he can be hired for any odd job and expertly get it done, whether it’s explaining to Bogdan about the land that the car wash sits on, or transporting Walt’s money (or most of his money, that is). When Kuby shows up, the scene is instantly more entertaining.

7 Worst: Combo

Combo wasn’t necessarily a bad character. In fact, he was actually pretty good, and his death was one of the most hard hitting of the series.

However, his character is completely unnecessary, as between him, Badger, and Skinny Pete, there was just too much comic relief in the show, not to mention that none of them are that smart, making for some frustratingly mind-numbing scenes.

6 Best: Huell

Along with Kuby, he and Huell were known as Saul’s A-team, and though their first appearances on the show were completely separate, when they were together it was so enjoyable.

Though he did become more of a funnier character towards the end of the show, Huell was more of Saul’s muscle but didn’t do very well as he isn’t the fastest bodyguard around. One of the most iconic shots of the entire series is Huell and Kuby laying on the bed of money in the final season.

5 Worst: The Pinkmans

Every single time The Pinkmans showed up, it was so mentally frustrating for viewers, as the characters would never give Jesse, their first child, the light of day. They had basically abandoned him at the first sign of disobedience, and any time he appears, they act like he’s such a burden on them, which is one of the saddest things about Jesse.

But what’s even worse is that his younger brother could be slipping down the same path, but his parents are too blind to see it.

4 Best: Skinny Pete

Skinny Pete was the most well rounded recurring character and had more depth than any of the others in the entire series, as not only was he funny and full of fascinating pop culture knowledge, but the character had amazing piano skills too.

RELATED: Better Call Saul: The Most Memorable Scene From Each Of IMDb's 10 Top-Rated Episodes

Though viewers don’t know much about Pete’s backstory, the mystery is the most captivating part. It could very well be that he had a similar middle-class upbringing to Jesse and that he just got involved with the wrong people. And though audiences almost didn’t get to find out what happened to him after the finale, his feature in El Camino was thankfully one of the loose ends that was tied up in the movie.

3 Worst: Gretchen And Elliot

With Walter not accepting Gretchen and Elliot’s offer to pay for his cancer treatments being one of the most questionable decisions he made, the two millionaires meant well, but they did it in such a condescending way.

And given the way that Walter cut ties with the company that the married couple owns, it only took him getting cancer for his oldest friends to throw out a lifeline, which really showed their true nature.

2 Best: Old Joe

Old Joe is a peculiar character, as he’s the king of his domain; the junkyard. Larry Hankin portrays the character, who is known for playing the grumpy old man in shows such as Friends, Malcolm in the Middle, and so many more, but Breaking Bad is the crown jewel in his filmography.

What makes him so great is that not only is he king of the junkyard, but he’s somehow extremely well versed in law too, which he put to good use during one of the times Hank almost caught Walt.

1 Worst: Ted Beneke

Ted was the biggest idiot on the show, of which there are many. Every time Ted appeared on screen, viewers just knew he was going to do something stupid. Though the character didn’t exactly deserve the shocking fate that he suffered, he definitely had something coming, as he made mistake after mistake.

Not only did he get himself into over half a million dollars worth of fraud debt, but he even blew the money he was given to pay it off on a BMW.

NEXT: Better Call Saul: 10 Predictions For The Final Season

The 5 Best Recurring Characters In Breaking Bad (& The 5 Worst) from https://ift.tt/3ifEpl1

[sumayyahwrites]

Melancholy and the Tortured Artist

Baudelaire couldn't conceive of beauty without melancholy, and Flaubert believed that artists should have a "religion of despair." The literary and artistic glorification of melancholy has been going on for millennia. Why are we so drawn to misery? It may have all started with the Aristotelian question, "why is it that all those who have become eminent in philosophy or politics or poetry or the arts are clearly melancholics?" linking genius and despair in our collective consciousness forever. But is there a real link between suffering and creativity? And if so, what came first, misery or the art? 

Melancholy comes from the Greek melan- 'black' & kholē' bile,' an excess of which was thought to cause depression. The Anatomy of Melancholy, a huge meandering tome by 17th-century scholar Robert Burton, gives an account of every idea about melancholy by every historical or contemporary thinker ever, including Burton himself. To provide a sense of its scope, the book's full title is 'The Anatomy of Melancholy, What it is: With all the Kinds, Causes, Symptomes, Prognostickes, and Several Cures of it. In Three Maine Partitions with their several Sections, Members, and Subsections. Philosophically, Medicinally, Historically, Opened and Cut Up.' At 1400 pages, the book is as long as the title might hint, but far funnier than the gloomy subject matter suggests. 

Burton noted the ambivalence of melancholy when he referred to it not merely as sadness, but as a 'pleasurable sadness'. Marsilio Ficino, a 15th-century Italian humanist, believed that melancholy was a sign of more profound thought and feeling. This had a significant influence on other Renaissance thinkers, resulting in the 17th-century cult of melancholy, the 19th-century and Dark Romantics' fixation with unrequited love. And Morrisey. 

Melancholy became depression, and excess bile, a chemical imbalance. But the glorification persisted. I experienced this through Generation X angst in the nineties, when melancholy became Mellon Collie,* and the 27 club was so exclusive it was worth dying to get into. My adolescent heroes met somewhere at the intersection of misery and self-destruction. I can still recite from memory 'Alone', the poem by Edgar Allen Poe about someone so unique in their sorrow and alienation they almost certainly died alone (this obviously resonated with me as a middle schooler.) 

Teen angst aside, is there any truth in the association of art with suffering and madness? My teen hero Poe seems to be suggesting there is: "Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence— whether much that is glorious— whether all that is profound— does not spring from disease of thought— from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect." Or have Poe and I both just bought into a myth, some kind of relic from antiquity? 

There has been much scientific research that indicates that this isn't the case and that there really is a correlational between genius and creativity, and psychopathology. The link is especially pronounced with mood disorders such as depression and bipolar. A 2010 study tested the IQ of 700,000 Swedish teenagers then came back a decade later to test their levels of mental illness. The results showed that the most intelligent teens were four times as likely to develop bipolar disorder in adulthood. So the genius link stands up to scrutiny. There is also evidence that the link is even more pronounced with artistic brilliance, as opposed to regular garden variety genius. 

Professor of psychology at the University of California, DK Simonton, claims that "creativity shares certain cognitive and dispositional traits with specific symptoms [of psychopathology] and that the degree of that commonality is contingent on the level and type of creativity that an individual displays". Creativity requires certain characteristics, like openness to chance, exploring the unconventional, atypical thinking and non-conformity. Simonton refers to this as the 'creativity cluster.' Some indicators of mental illness correlate with the attributes in this cluster, so creative people will often show symptoms associated with mental illness, and the more creative you are, the more pronounced the symptoms. Some types of creativity depend more strongly on the cluster, for example, scientific creativity tends to be more formal and constrained than artistic creativity, so the creativity cluster will be more pronounced in artists than in scientists, making the mad artist a little madder than the mad scientist. 

This link seems to extend past pathological mood to disorders, to ordinary transient moods. In 'The dark side of creativity: biological vulnerability and negative emotions lead to greater artistic creativity' a study in which participants' baseline levels of dehydroepiandrosterone-sulfate (DHEAS), a hormone associated with managing stress and depression, were tested. They were instructed to make a short speech about their dream job. Their speeches were greeted by negative, positive or neutral nonverbal feedback. The participants were then required to each make a collage, which was subsequently judged by a panel of artists. The ones made by participants who had experienced rejection were deemed more creative, and these results were intensified in those were a lower baseline of DHEAS, suggesting that they are most sensitive to emotional triggers. 

According to Joe Forgas, a social psychologist at the University of New South Wales, sadness promotes "information-processing strategies best suited to dealing with more-demanding situations." Forgas influences his subjects into feeling sad, then tests their cognition. He demonstrates that subjects who are melancholy exhibit improved cognition and more attention to detail. This heightened focus and presence may be why people experience melancholy as a more aesthetic emotion. They're simply more present. Susan Sontag makes a distinction between melancholy and clinical depression, describing melancholy as depression "minus its charms," (perhaps because she knew firsthand that nothing is charming about the debilitating illness) marking melancholy as an aesthetic experience, separate from depression. 

There seem to be many of legitimate reasons the glorification of the tortured artist has endured. A romantic, harmless face of depression, aspirational misery. The tortured genius, suffering = art. It's more intellectual than physical, existential than medical. There is no black bile, and if death comes, it comes pretty and quick. Suffering is not only romantic but sublime, and a fair price to pay for art. There’s something disturbing about romanticising the Cobains, the Plaths and Von Goghs. As compelling as it is, it seems strangely cavalier. I wonder if they would have not given up all that brilliance for peace of mind. Doesn't glorifying their suffering somehow reduce them to collateral damage in the quest for the sublime? 

The link between melancholy/depression/negative emotion and creativity/art/genius has been documented by history and demonstrated by science. But I reject Baudelaire's idea that melancholy is essential to beauty. That suffering is on a higher plane. The notion that suffering is intrinsically sublime. 

It makes me sad that art ought to be sad, so I'm rebelling against melancholy—no more suffering for art. Bliss isn't ignorance. Playfulness isn't trivial. Let's elevate joyful creativity, stop believing art only comes in heartbreak, see happiness as transcendent, and create from a place of genuine rapture.

Now, I'm off to make sad art about how sad I am that art has to be sad.

*Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness was an album by The Smashing Pumpkins, 1995