#not only that but. Mendelssohn. my BOY

[dandelion-de-deus]

the real reason I don’t listen to a lot of classical music is because I’ll inevitably start listening to some Mendelssohn sextet and find myself getting really upset over the fact that I don’t live with more musicians

[imaginidol]

Taemin: Distant Bells Are Ringing

I don’t always leave an author’s note but I loved writing this for my anonnie’s request <3. So much so that I listened to both the instrumental pieces I mention in this headcanon whilst writing it, and I 100% would recommend you guys do the same bc I felt like crying the whole time lolzzz hope u like it !! :)

A sound of faint, classical music catches your attention as you’re exiting your dark SUV. Your bodyguard outstretches his hand in your direction, offering to lead you carefully out of the vehicle. You look around happily as you lift the sides your long, elegant gown, planting your heels firmly on the ground as you made your way to the entrance of the wedding venue.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” the familiar voice of your wedded friend’s brother greets you at the doors. “I can’t believe you made it!”

“Of course I had to come, how could I miss one of my closest friend’s wedding!? Thank you for inviting me,” you say as the boy leads you inside.

You walk into the beautifully decorated wedding venue, admiring every detail about the grandiose place in awe. Your eyes travel from the high vaulted ceilings to the intricately designed stained-glass windows. The center isle is filled with gorgeous arrangements of flowers and floral arches. All around, people were murmuring in excitement as the ceremony would soon begin.

You’re about to walk to your seat when all of a sudden, you nearly let out a shriek at the touch of a person’s arm against your shoulder.

“What the—,” you quickly turn around and find yourself making unexpectedly hard eye-to-eye contact with none other than…

Lee Taemin.

Honestly? This probably wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the absolute heart-wrenching heartbreak I had to endure all alone after we broke up…

Your mind quickly threatens to recall all the miserable nights you cried yourself to sleep for the boy standing in front of you, but you immediately brush them aside and plant the biggest smile on your face instead.

I can’t think of the past now.

“Taemin! Oh, I didn’t know you were here,” you say, awkwardly looking around to make sure no people were looking your way. It was no secret to the media that you and Taemin were once a favorite celebrity couple sought out by all kinds of fans, journalists, and paparazzis alike.

“Of course I’d be here. Don’t you remember we met through the bride?”

“Oh, right,” you answer, letting out an awkward half-laugh.

“I saw you walk in and I couldn’t not tell you how… how amazing you look!” he says, an innocent smile spreading across his face.

“Thank you, Taemin. You look pretty handsome yourself, actually,” you cheekily say back.

“Mister and Missus,” the voice of an older gentleman approaches you both. “Allow me too guide you to your reserved seats tonight,” he says, guiding you and Taemin into the ceremonial room.

“Oh, we’re not togeth—” you stop your sentence when you feel Taemin place his hand against your back, following the gentleman to wherever he seemed fit.

“Thank you,” you say to the gentleman anyway once you’ve reached your reserved seats.

Taemin sits next to you and, to your surprise, there aren’t many other people sitting in your section yet.

“Uh, Taemin?” You carefully look around the room before whispering into his ear, “we’re the only people sitting in this row right now… doesn’t it look a little…”

“Scandalous?” He finishes, giving you a smirk. “I’d be surprised if someone doesn’t take any pictures of us tonight.”

“Right,” you huff, turning your attention back to the front of the room.

For a moment, neither says a word, until Taemin finally speaks up.

“So… how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been… I’ve been good.”

“Yeah, I hear you’ve released a few albums since we last spoke. They’re really good. I really liked your most recent comeback,” he says quietly.

“Thank you, it means… a lot, actually.”

There is another awkward silence, before you speak up this time.

“How about you? How have you and SHINee been?”

“We’re still aiming to be the best we can be,” he smiles. “You don’t listen to us anymore, huh?”

“What? Of course I do. Just because you and I were… a thing… doesn’t mean I don’t love Minho any less.”

He scoffed. “Minho was always your bias, huh? Even when we were a ‘thing’?”

“Well, duh,” you roll your eyes, “look at him. He’s gorgeous!”

“Whatever,” he says, looking around him as a few other couples and guests slowly filled the seats more and more.

“You know,” he says, crossing his arms and turning his eyes toward you, “I only started talking to you just now ‘cause I don’t think I know anyone else here…”

“I thought you said you wanted to talk to me to tell me I looked pretty?”

“Oh, oops, yeah, that too,” he smirked. “It worked, ‘cause you’re still talking to me.”

“You’re still so annoying,” you say, crossing your legs.

He laughs mischievously, lightly punching your thigh.

“Isn’t it crazy how we almost instantly clicked again after so many years of not talking, though?”

You don’t answer him for a moment, thinking carefully of the words you’d say next.

“I guess,” you start to respond, “even after we went our separate ways, our comfort when being around each other never really went away.”

“Hmm,” he ponders, “why do you think that is?”

You don’t get a chance to respond because the ceremony begins, and all guests’ attention turns towards the front of the room.

The wedding ceremony of you and Taemin’s mutual friend plays out flawlessly beautiful.

An organist begins playing O Holy Night, at the request for the bride’s entrance. The bride walks in gracefully as ever. Her princess-styled silk dress was intricately decorated with mesh flowers, her long-sleeved white gloves featured complex designs of floral delicacies. Even from the bride’s back-view, her long, delicately designed dress tail captured and maintained all eyes on her.

Taemin had quietly moved his eyes from the bride at one point and turned his attention secretly to you.

You also looked lavishing in your dark green gown tonight, beautifully complementing the colors of the wedding decor altogether. Taemin couldn’t help but wonder if…

…if you could ever be his bride.

His eyes slowly began to water at the recollection of hundreds of shared memories alongside of you as your partner.

All the laughs, the jokes, the cries, the arguments, the make-ups, the love you shared privately in more ways than one.

He had… missed you.

Why’d we have to break up? He thoughtfully wonders as the bride and groom begin taking their vows.

If only we’d worked through our problems and not run away from them…

But it was almost every day that the arguments would arise.

The bride and groom exchange wedding bands and hold their hands together.

Taemin turns his eyes from the soon-to-be-married couple and focuses again on you.

Yes, while you were physically close to him at this very moment, he couldn’t help but think about how far you truly were.

If only I’d tried harder from my end, Taemin thinks defeatedly. I’ve been through the best and the absolute worst of this industry. If only I hadn’t let the malicious false rumors of that cheating scandal get the best of you…

The old priest raises his hands towards the crowd.

…maybe it would’ve been us on that pulpit by now.

He announces the couple as husband and wife.

But I couldn’t protect you without losing myself in the process.

The groom and bride share their first kiss as husband and wife, and the room erupts into loud cheers and happy tears. The organist beings playing the all-too familiar tune of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March, and the new man and wife begin preparing to make their way back down the isle for their final grand ceremonial exit.

Taemin closes his eyes as a couple tears begin rolling down his cheeks. He’s in too deep in his own thoughts when he feels the soft touch of a cloth rubbing against his face.

His eyes open and he makes direct eye contact with you.

You’d taken a handkerchief from your purse and wiped the tears gently from his face, not saying a word.

All around you, white confetti and red flower petals fall as the bride and groom begin exiting the room, the cheers of their guests roaring louder, the organist’s musical arrangement filling the room with l endearing excitement.

You and Taemin are caught frozen in each other’s gaze for a moment in time. Your hand is gently cupped around his face, his tears have slowed, and your emotions are caught in a trance.

What ever will we do? You think to yourself.

How could I ever move on from you? He thinks to himself.

How could I ever… you look into his eyes,

…have left you? he wonders,

…And now I find myself, you ponder,

…having feelings for you, he comes closer,

…even after all, you close your eyes,

…this, his nose brushes lightly against yours,

…time! your lips clash against his.

All around you, couples take notice of you and Taemin sharing an intimate moment together. The gentlemen cheer and begin taking their partners hand in hand, leaning them back against their arms to share kisses of their own in celebration of light of a new marriage.

White confetti and red flower petals continue to float about the room and around all the couples, guests, the newlyweds as the organists begins intensifying the final chords of the infamous Wedding March.

Taemin pulls away slightly, a few more tears escaping his reddened eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you.”

You shake your head, not wanting to hear the words you longed to wish for.

“No, Taemin, I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I’m sorry I abandoned the trust I had in you… in us.”

“I should’ve gone back even after all the—”

“There’s no point in bringing up the past anymore, Tae,” you whisper.

“But I have to—”

“Shh,” you gently place a finger against his lips. “I received all the proof from your agency once the investigation was over. I now know you never had betrayed me like that.”

“You… you do?”

You smile. “I’m sorry I never went back for you. I was too ashamed to face you after you were proven innocent.”

“No,” he whispers. “I’m the one who should’ve fought harder.”

“Tae—”

Your words are cut short at the realization that there was no point in arguing further. You had grown and reflected, and so had he.

Knowing what you both knew now, there was an opportunity for the trust to grow back.

Perhaps tonight you could start over.

Perhaps tonight at the wedding reception, over delicious dinner and sugary wedding cake, you could start over.

Perhaps tonight you and Taemin would finally be able to reach the closure you both longed for, and start walking together towards a happily ever after of your own.

—

The wedding reception had gone just as fun and smoothly as the ceremony. The guests had gathered around the bride and her groom to cut their enormous marbled-flavored cake. A couple minutes before the cake-cutting begun, the bride caught a glimpse of you and Taemin and quickly walked over to you both.

“Hey, you smoochy lovebirds, why didn’t you tell me you got back together!?”

“What? How’d you even know—”

“Oh, please!” she giggled, “You started the little kissing-train back at the venue, didn’t ya? Look, it’s already making headlines!!” She excitedly pulls out her phone from her sleek reception gown’s pockets and points the screen at you both.

Indeed, there’s a half-blurry picture of you and Taemin sharing a loving, lasting kiss amidst the newlyweds’ grand exit. The headline at the top reads in bolder letters: BREAKING!! HAVE THE STARRY-EYED COUPLE ALLEGEDLY MADE A COMEBACK!?

Underneath the post, thousands of comments were already flooding the media with fans excitedly screaming their heads off at the sight of their favorite celebrity couple rumored to be seen together again. Fans from all around the industry—even fans who didn’t actively listen to you or Taemin’s music—enthusiastically shared well wishes and celebration for you both, many of these fans hoping that this time your relationship would lead to a much happier ending.

“I’ll say, your kissing stunt was absolutely perfect!” the bride excitedly bounces up and down. “All my wedding exit pictures have guests sharing kisses in the background and it’s so… so beautiful!! I’ll have to get that moment framed for our new home!”

Taemin places his hand around your waist, pulling you closer.

“If it weren’t for your wedding, I wouldn’t have gotten closure with my love again,” he smiles. He then turns his attention to you.

“And,” he adds, “I never would’ve believed I could fall in love with the right person all over again.”

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

i never thought i would have a more unhinged concert experience than this past fall but i think this one actually beat it in that respect

overall: MUCH better than yesterday. vibes just felt massively improved and i felt it in my playing

somewhere in the middle of a piece i straight up got my right elbow HIT by the scroll of the associate concertmaster’s violin. i have no idea how it happened nor do i know why his scroll was there but it hurt and he did not offer so much as an apology afterward. sigh oh well

we should have a system of filing onstage instead of just randomly swanning in whenever we feel like it lmao. i think that contributes to concerts starting late. however ate honorsprofessor and the graduate student insist on following me onstage like baby ducklings so that’s funny to me

boy this program really was just grueling, i operated at maybe 80% for the mendelssohn italian second movement so i could devote more energy to the dvořák 7 third movement but still wound up absolutely SPENT for the haydn 104 finale. i swear i only managed to push through by grace alone. this was probably the most intense program i have played yet

i think the only piece where we had any lengthy rest was the brahms serenade 1 movement 1 with the two 20-ish bar rests. so that was like. two hours of almost straight playing

after the dvořák tita conductor gave us a huge grin which i would have appreciated more if i hadn’t been desperately been trying to rally the troops (my strength) to power through the haydn

i got a handshake from tita conductor at the end of the concert 😭 she did not do this last night or warn the non-concertmaster string principals during the warmup that she was going to go for it so i was taken completely by surprise when she held her hand out to me after shaking the concertmaster’s hand so i probably looked like 😳 when i took it LMAOOOO

okay here’s where things get really unhinged.

i knew i wanted a picture with tita conductor at some point in the school year and reckoned that this would be a good time to ask since this is (i think) our last concert that’s just us and not with other ensembles for the year.

i kind of chickened out but ate honorsprofessor egged me on (no shoving me towards tita conductor this time though)

my parents, some of my coworkers, and one of my friends attended and i waved my dad over before approaching tita conductor on the stage and asked her for a picture

tita conductor brightened and said “yes—my best principal second that i’ve ever had!”

oh god. she is not emotionally prepared for me graduating.

anyways we had the picture (i also asked ate honorsprofessor to be in it too because. its literally the cover of the graphic memoir), and then she said to me “there’s a part in the brahms where you have to count so many rests and then come in with pizzicato. i never get to cue you there but you always come in anyway. by the time i figured out i needed to cue, you had already figured it out yourself and you have never missed that entrance.”

i was like “oh, well, i love the brahms” trying to explain that i have listened to it so much that half the time i wasn’t even counting i was just going with how it sounded in my head and then she said fervently “i do too” like girl i know. you picked the piece. you keep singing it. you made the program 😭😭

there’s also the fact that whoever wrote the part put a brief viola cue in there which makes it easier for me. but i didn’t say that

it should not surprise me that tita conductor likes me this much but it does surprise me that i rank that highly even though she’s only known me for a little over a year. fun times

sad that we may not have rehearsal this thursday but really—after that exercise in endurance i do need some good quality rest

[whiteshipnightjar]

Marie At The Mill

by Joanna Newsom

(HORNS)

I see you coming down in your cherry wool coat bare to the throat like Marie at the Mill. Where might you go from your lowly amour where they hoard you like gold in the hill.

Sent from my side to the cold riverbed, Marie, you go ahead; I will follow in time. The work keeps me here with a few pioneers magnetizing a permanent line. Save for the coat, there was nothing to bring. It was found you could sing, you were sent to the Bay. At Seminary, you passed and were buried; I rose there the very next day.

For if you weren’t born at the right time, my dear, just keep trying and trying and trying again. As for the end, it is not what you fear, you’re just slipping a glove from your hand.

Like this: down, down, down, down your wrist down, down; the list of lives, husbands and wives, dozens of times around again and then,

out of all of the girls, heartbroke, alone, and to rot, and called me the heir of Melba and myth. I crossed the Atlantic, from Boston to Nantes on the hand of my dear Mr. Smith.

Then came his talk of perdition and sin like a cold winter wind come to blow me away. I was impatient and sought education on stage and the Champs-Élysées. I left on my own with the clothes on my back and my old name intact, and my own bills to pay. I left him in debt with his feathered grisette; alouette, je te plumerai. I had the honor to sing Mendelssohn on the Ternary lawn for the brave and the few. But it was my joy to be called to Bayreuth from who toiled a slave comes anew.

They prance for gentler worthiness and everyone who ruled a king may wander in rags for things done and undone and done and undone.

I wed Mr Russak, a fan, and producer of amateur music. All embedded in pearls, held court in Newport, amused myself before I threw off the veil of the world. And when in time he sank under the sea, what he deeded to me was enough to begin as secretary and past emissary; I rose through the ranks from within.

My carnelian snuff bottle carved as a peach and a small sterling wagon — well, that was part of the set — consigned to the waters of Elliot Beach, left behind with your Pall Mall Gazette.

And it was not luck, put me there by his side when the old Colonel died, and the adepts appeared, and all* what they share, well, you had to be there but I’ll tell you if you wanna hear.

Henry, your work here is done, Annie will carry it on, Marie, write it all down, ‘til the keynote is found. You run it up and down and round and round and round and

so I filled as I could all the gaps as a pilfer for good and only good, through some lapse that I’ve long forgot I wanna write to King and only transcribe the thoughts of the boy from the beach with his pervious soul. Poor little teacher got you, do it as you’re told. And even so there is danger here in the sun. Honey, tell me what has Sirius done? I hear it all but I cannot assume none may I follow to the Octagon Room; the boy from the beach beckoned and called, Lord, he’ll leave and unhand it all.

I see the clock on the wall, I hear the knock on the door but that is all.

(HORNS)

And when my work here is through, Henry, will you find me anew a little stranger, my old friend, hold me and win me again and again and again, all over again, all over again, all over again.

There’s a lodger in me larger than me saw the cross in the garden where your process came to be and cut you free, though your father tried to reunite with you and yet* he was allowed to die. Despite the lies, we are grist in the mill.

On the list I am Helios still, Sun-Wielder, Brunhilde, spun in shields, running round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round, and round.

[artyandink]

the girl that kindness forgot | 5

TALK ABOUT IT SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW

Quote of the chapter: “What’s that for? A sort of Boy Scout agent swearing thing you’ve learnt?”

…

"What's a piano doing in my living room?" Lockwood fumed, glaring at me while I was finishing a mug of coffee. 

"Place was feeling a little numb. The piano made it more homely." 

"This is my home. It's already homely, that's why it's called a home- you know what? I can't be asked. Where's George?" He left the room, leaving me in the living room. I ran my hand lightly over my dad's old piano, my thumb stroking our names carved into the right hand corner, filled in with gold ink. It was beautiful, made with mahogany. I pulled the stool out, taking the cover off carefully and running my hands over the keys. And that's when I thought about our song. That beautiful song that we made our own. That's when my hands started to play and I started singing the words.

“I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand I felt the earth beneath my feet Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting tired and I need someone to rely on

I came across a fallen tree I felt the branches of it looking at me Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

And if you have a minute why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know? This could be the end of everything So why don't we go Somewhere only we know Somewhere only we know

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need someone to rely on So tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know? 'Cause this could be the end of everything So why don't we go Somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know…” I reached up to wipe a tear, but something stopped me.

"What's that awful song?" Lockwood had appeared again, but Lucy was behind him, trying to whisper something urgently. "Honestly, you could play anything, Bach, Mendelssohn, Einaudi and you choose that?" 

"Lockwood!" Lucy snapped, eyes steely. "Can I have a word with you outside?" 

"Like- outside, outside?" 

"Out. Side." She took Lockwood outside, slamming the door. I ran upstairs, closing my suitcase and picking up my jacket, putting it on before calling my chauffeur, walking downstairs. 

"Thanks, Marco." I cut the call, and found George on the landing. 

"Where are you going?" The look on my face said enough, and then the truth dawned upon him.

"He insulted it, didn't he?" I nodded, fighting back tears. "I bet Lucy's having a right go at him right now, and speaking of which, so should I. Just... take care of yourself, yeah?" 

"Thanks, George." I went out of the front door, and sat in my car with my driver, unnoticed by either Lucy or Lockwood. 

"Do you have any idea what you just did?!" Lucy scolded, folding her arms. 

"Insulting a stupid song." 

"That's no stupid song. Artemis' father used to sing it to and with her all the time. It was their song. And they didn't even get a proper goodbye, so you've been a real flippant jerk." Lockwood had a brutal realisation of what he did. He had plenty of memories of his parents and every mention of them broke him inside bit by bit. And his rival was suffering the same losses and he tore her right down to the ground. 

"I..." For the first time, he had no words. 

"You need to apologise to her." 

"Lockwood!" George was running down the steps, and he looked mad too. "Artemis just left and you didn't even notice!" 

"Left?" Lucy gasped. 

"Where did she go?" Lockwood asked. 

"To SP3CTR HQ of course. She even left a note at the table saying she couldn't bear with this anymore. Apparently something was getting too overwhelming." 

"We can't do this without her. We need to get her."

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I couldn't be around those three. Every day my communication powers broadened and I could feel it all piling on me like a tower of Jenga, ready to collapse on me at any given moment. 

"Miss Hernandez, Inspector Barnes is here to see you." Laila called, so I stopped looking through my bookshelves for something, one thing that could help me. 

"Send him in." I straightened my suit just as Barnes walked in, stopping in front of my desk. 

"Good morning, Miss Hernandez." He greeted, nodding.

"Same to you, Barnes. Is the transaction done?" 

"Yes, it's paid. Anything else you need me to do?" 

"Yeah." I paused before looking at him. "Have you ever heard of a ghost with a psychical connection and a direct satanic connection?" 

"Never." He walked over to a sketch I'd drawn and was studying relentlessly. "Is that it?" 

"Yeah." I clicked my tongue. "This is what killed my dad and put my family in ghost lock. It gave me powers and now it's haunting every single memory or dream I possess."

"Is it not a Type 3?" 

"Visitors, phantoms, they can't hold tangible objects. This one was holding a the most ancient and valuable relic in history. Satan's dagger." A look of disbelief and fear unusually crossed Barnes's face; no one had seen Satan's dagger since it being forged. Until it resurfaced in the attempt to murder my family.

"It's not possible. It went missing right after it was forged." 

I pointed to the scar over my eyebrow, the gap and scar both visible. "Is it really impossible?"

"It attacked you with Satan's dagger?" 

"Yeah." We had a long pause. A tense one. 

"Does Lockwood and Co know about this?"

"I left them today. They don't know about this ghost attacking with Satan's dagger. It's too distracting." 

"Good. I don't want Lockwood's nosy busybody self to poke into this." 

I nodded, folding my arms. "Agreed." 

"In the meantime, I'll get one of my junior officers to scan the shelves, try and get you a few books to work this out. While that's happening, I need you to keep those three at bay." I got buzzed through my earpiece, so I held my finger to my earpiece. 

"Yeah, Laila?" 

'You have Anthony Lockwood waiting for you downstairs. Should I send him up after your meeting with Inspector Barnes?' 

"No. I don't want to talk to him." I heard vague chatter, before she spoke again.

'He insists. Should I still refuse?' 

Why the heck is he so stubborn?! "Send him up only after Barnes is safely out." I turned back to Barnes, "Lockwood's in the lobby. I have an impromptu meeting with him in about a minute or two." I checked my watch, opening a drawer and hiding the papers. "In short, I'll prevent them from knowing, you stop harking at Lockwood to fire Lucy, you give me books in and return I supply money for DEPRAC." I smirked. "I know I already was, but it seems like a fair exchange, eh?" 

Barnes chuckled lowly, nodding. "One thing about you that I've realised recently, Miss Hernandez, is that when it comes down to it, you are a tough customer." 

"Wasn't I always?" 

"Yes, but for some stupid reason I'm realising that now. You're a force to be reckoned with, Miss Hernandez. This unidentified ghost should be scared of you." He nodded before leaving through the lift, so I lifted my hand to my earpiece. 

"Send him up." I sat down on my chair, propping my legs up on the table. My arms were folded elegantly, staring right at the point where I knew Lockwood would emerge from. 

"Miss Hernandez?" Laila called. "It's Mr Lockwood." 

"Send him in." Lockwood trudged awkwardly out from behind the display wall beside the elevator, looking extra guilty, until he saw how I was sat. 

"Why does that look incredibly rehearsed?" He mused, looking up and down at my setup. I smirked, relishing the confusion in his eyes. 

"That's because it is." I stared at him blankly, "So, Mr Lockwood, how may I help you?" 

"Don't act like you don't know me well." He said, shaking his head. "I just... I..."

"You what?" I swung my legs off the table nimbly, getting up. 

"I... I don't really know how to say it-" 

"Just say it." I sneered, slowly strutting forward. Slowly, but dangerously. 

"Like I said, I don't know how-"

"It's easy enough." He took a step backwards, looking a little threatened. "Just say it." 

"I-" 

"You wanna know why you can't say it?!" I raised my voice a little, pure fury filling my veins and tingling my cells till my very core was burning with a violet flame, my anger expelling more of itself from my body. I was a ticking time bomb, and this seemed like the time I was ready to explode. "Because Anthony John Lockwood can't make any mistakes! He finds someone associated with him to blame when something goes wrong and he tears their life down bit by bit then builds up another brick wall reinforced with tungsten so they can't get through! And guess who you've done that to?! Me! So if you're going to apologise, apologise for everything you've done to me!" I finished my rant, breathing heavily and still fuming as if my heart was on fire.

All I got from him was silence. 

"Apologise." I ordered, stepping forward. "Apologise!" I stepped forward again, seeing his hand twitch towards his rapier. Good, he's scared. "APOLOGISE!" 

"I'M SORRY!" He yelled almost immediately after, snapping under the pressure of my screaming. Those were the only two words I wanted to hear from his mouth for two years. I wonder why it took so long. 

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"Arty, are you ok?" Lockwood asked, hoisting himself onto his knees on the cold marble floor of the church. I was lying on the ground, barely saved by Lockwood from an unexpected attack from a Type 3. “That was close.” 

“I’m alright.” I stood up, picking up my rapier and holding it tight. “Where d’you suppose it went?” 

“I don’t know, it just… vanished.” I turned to the side, spotting it flying towards us, so I shoved Lockwood out of the way and timely swung my blade, the metal passing right through it and making it scream in pain. “Nice one!” 

“No time for amenities! Get the chain and a flare.” He ran over to the bag, desperately rifling through it. “Hurry up!” 

“Sod off, I’m trying!” I was blasted back by a powerful surge of energy, hitting the wall and feeling dizzy from the impact, but I reached for the vial of Greek fire in my pocket. 

“LOCKWOOD!” I screamed, “NOW’S NOT THE TIME TO SLACK!” 

“It’s buried somewhere in here-“ I had no choice, being centimetres away from being ghost touched, so I opened and flung the vial of Greek fire at the Type 3, diving out of the way just in time. It screeched, trying to fight off the lethal substance, but then I pulled out something Lockwood didn’t expect me to use. 

“A satanic containment vessel? But that’s off book!” He protested.

“And a safe way to contain a Type 3. I got it from my dad’s old library.” The vessel was a small hexagonal box with the symbol of Satan on the top, and as it came face to face with the ghost in agony, the symbol glowed and within a second, the box turned black and the symbol red. I breathed heavily, shaken from almost experiencing death yet again. Taking out my knife, I unscrewed a painting and started breaking down a small hole in the church’s wall, hiding the box inside before bricking it up again and securing the painting again. 

“Arty, talk to me.” I walked over to the bag, took one second to search through it, and there it was. The flare and chains. I grabbed them and held them up, seeing red. 

“Arty-“ 

“Don’t you dare call me Arty, Lockwood. You put our lives in danger!” He flared up too, immediately rushing to his own aid. 

“Me?! If you’d given me some more time-“ 

“Time?! When a powerful Type 3 was trying to kill your partner? I would’ve been with you in a second but you, you just took your sweet time.” 

“Me? I did everything perfectly!” 

“YOU PUT OUR LIVES IN DANGER! AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO BLAME IT ON ME!” 

“I WOULDN’T FALSELY ACCUSE SOMEONE! WHAT KIND OF PERSON DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?!” 

“CLEARLY SOMEONE WHO ONLY THINKS ABOUT THEMSELVES!” He breathed in and out, trying to regain his composure.

“Take that back.” He quietly ordered, brown eyes furious.

“I won’t take back the truth, Lockwood. You’re an arrogant, selfish narcissist.” I spat. “And I’m surprised I didn’t notice that sooner.” 

“I’m nothing like you. Painted yourself a glorified hero, when in truth you’re nothing without your rich family and your weapons. Take those away and what are you?” He sneered, making me lose my patience. I dropped my weapons, swung a leg around his shoulder, leant forward and performed a swift takedown, then I got up and stamped on his rapier, breaking it cleanly in two. 

“A better person.” I replied, holding back tears by digging my nails into my palm. “Kipps was right. I never should’ve let you in.” I picked up my rapier and flares, kicking down the door and leaving a coughing Lockwood on the floor, prepared to take my revenge. 

By ending up as the most influential person on the planet.

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“I am sorry that I blamed the Type 3 on you. I am sorry that I made your life miserable every day for something that wasn’t even your fault. I am sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most. I am sorry for insulting something that meant a lot to you. But the thing I’m most sorry about…” He took a deep breath, “is that I let you leave that church without apologising myself. It takes me so long to realise my mistakes and this time it went too far. I broke you, and you built yourself up into someone I couldn’t recognise and that is all my fault.” He continued talking, but I couldn’t hear him due to a ringing building up in my head, pressing painfully on my thoughts. There was nothing outside the glass windows that acted as the exterior walls of my office, nothing inside. 

Then what was it? 

I spotted a shadowy figure standing on the rooftop opposite, and instantly the ringing became louder and more painful. My hands flew to my head, my chest rising and falling rapidly and my vision blurring. 

“Miss Hernandez?” Even Lockwood’s voice was muffled, the pressure building and collapsing like the weight of 1000 tons was held up by a toothpick, and as that weight fell on my head, so did I, but someone caught me. “I’m here, Miss Hernandez, what’s going on?” 

“Emergency button…” I whispered, barely finding the energy to speak, “desk… press it…” I felt my body rest on something soft, and thirty seconds later someone rushed in, and I blacked out as I lost all the strength that was put into keeping me awake. 

I gasped for air, my eyes flying open. I felt my forehead, neck and checked my hands, and then looked at myself up and down and found that I was covered in a shock blanket. 

“She’s awake.” Laila approached me, using a scanner to check my temperature. “How are you feeling, Miss Hernandez?” 

“Much better, thank you, Laila.” I breathed in reply, trying to recollect the events, for it was all so blurry. “What happened?" 

"Mr Lockwood said you were crying out in pain and then collapsed. However you were awake enough to tell him to press the emergency button, and it's good that he did. Do you have any idea what happened?" 

"I do." I answered. "I can't tell him, though." 

"He was worried sick for you. I think you should tell him. You never know, he could help you." She took her clipboard and went to talk to Lockwood, who ran straight for me right as I was getting up from the sofa. 

"Miss Hernandez!" He gasped. "Are you ok?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine, I think. Y'all can clear out, by the way." I waved my hand at the medics in the room plus Laila, who all filtered out.

"Something happened to you and I don't think we can pass it off as nothing. You were gasping for breath, as if someone had slit your throat and your hands went to your neck at some point." Lockwood rambled, looking calm but he was freaking out inwardly. It was radiating off of him. 

"I'd already discussed with Barnes to not tell you, but I think I should." I went in my drawers and took out the papers filled with sketches. "Before the attack on my family, my talent was touch. But after it... I had all three. I could see death glows, hear visitors, wraiths, everything and what I touched I could examine perfectly. Then it turned to psychic connections not only with the dead, but with the living. If I tune in properly, I can hear what others are thinking, and it was cool until..." 

"Until...?" 

"I met Annabel Ward." I panted, the rant taking away my breath. My fingers started clicking as I paced, my natural reflex when I got overly nervous. "She spoke to me, begged me to help her and so I told her that I would. And there's one last thing." I ran my hand through my hair, handing the papers to Lockwood. "This... is following me. Not just in real life. It appears in my dreams, my memories, and it always has a fixation on slitting my throat with-"

"Satan's dagger." Lockwood interrupted, thumb rubbing over the drawing of it on the paper. "Do you have a classification for this?" 

"Type 4s are theorised to have some vague and weak connection to the devil. This one transcends the category of Type 3 and is able to hold the most dangerous relic to ever exist. This isn't even a Type 4. This thing that's chasing me? It has a direct connection to Satan. It's a Type 5." 

"Oh, Jesus." Lockwood freaked out, running a hand through his hair as well. "How are we going to stop this?" 

"I don't know."

"Well, we'll figure out a way to fix this, Miss Hernandez, I promise." He smiled, something genuine and not spiteful. 

"Call me Artemis." I swiftly said in reply, bringing a grin to his face. 

"Artemis." He whispered, but I caught it.

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Are you kidding me?! 

I watched in outrage as Lucy and I's names were splashed as the superstars of the case. I never said no, but Lucy did. And Lockwood just double crossed her. 

Lucy switched off the TV, furious. "I told you to leave me out of it " 

"And I told you I'd handle it. What are you so worked up for? It's all true." Lockwood answered flippantly and nonchalantly, making my blood boil. We're on better terms, but he still sometimes annoys me.

"We haven't even solved the case yet." Lucy protested. 

"You just dangled Lucy and I out as bait. What if we're now on Hugo Blake's target list?" I snapped. 

"Well then, we'll look after you two, Arty. You two are our biggest assets." My head whipped round to face him so fast even George backed off, and he wasn't even the target. 

"Asset?! Is that all we are to you? A money making machine that you can just make some dough off of and leave us on the side of the road?" I scolded. "You must be laughing your head off inside right now because of how stupid I was to trust you yet again." My trust in him was as thin as ice, and even a tap that's just too hard could break it completely. And Lockwood was tapping too hard. "You're the same as you always were, only interested in your benefit." Lucy and I ran out of the room, slamming the door. I went upstairs while Lucy traipsed to the basement, and I collapsed on my bed, pulling out my phone and going to voicemail, playing the one on the top of the list. 

'Hey, Arty.' I heard my dad's voice through the speaker, and god was it relaxing. 'I came to your showcase today. You were absolutely brilliant. All I could think when I saw you was: That's my little shooting star. That's my girl. And I am so proud to be your father. Keep shining for me, Dad.'  

I played the next one, leaning my head against my banister and just listening to my dad's voice, remembering him and picturing him saying that face to face with me. 'Hey, my little shooting star. I was driving to work today and they played our song on the radio. When I get home, we're going to play it together, just like we always do. Love, Dad.'

'Hey, my shooting star. I'm so sorry for what happened today. I love you so much, you know that? I'd do anything for you. Heck, I'd even give my life for you. Just... forgive me, please? Love, Dad.'

'Hey, Arty. I got the call from your mother and I'm coming straight there, just hang in there for me.' I'd been hit by a car that day. The first person that I saw when I opened my eyes was my dad. He was the world to me, and now he's gone. I listened to multiple more, until I got to the last one he sent me, ten minutes before he was attacked. 

'Hey, my little shooting star.' I heard a pause, 'Well, not so little anymore. I want you to know that your mother and I love you very much, and you'll be such an amazing person when you become an adult and you choose what you want to do and I know you'll follow it with your heart's passion. I... I can't believe your mother and I will miss all of that. Something bad will happen today, sweetheart, and if we don't come out of it alive, then stay strong for us. The world needs a person like you. I love you, Artemis, and if you're listening to this, just know that even when we're gone, we're always with you.' 

He knew.

They knew.

My parents knew that they'd die that day... and they did nothing to prevent it. 

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"You'll be alright." I had been called by Barnes, and as an associate of Lockwood, he came with me. When we spotted Wade and Barnes approaching us, we both stood up. 

"You can rest, Lockwood, it's Miss Hernandez we need." 

"No, because there's nothing you can say to Miss Hernandez- Artemis... that you can't say to me." Lockwood refused defiantly.

"Wait here or you can wait in the cells." I went upstairs with them both, being led into a small room with a two-sided window made of ballistic glass. 

"You and your friends claim that Hugo Blake murdered Annabel Ward, yes?" Barnes asked, guiding me to the chair. 

"Correct." 

"Blake is on the other side of that door. Use your connection to Annabel to get the truth. Expose him as the murderer." I could suddenly see him, but I turned to Barnes. 

"That isn't how it works."

"Channel her. I know you have the power to do it."

"No, I actually can't!"

"Where's those extraordinary powers everyone's been talking about?" The talking and pressure was getting overwhelming, the thoughts of Hugo, Barnes and Wade mixing together into one until I couldn't distinguish them all separately. I looked briefly towards Hugo, but he flickered and for a split second I saw the Type 5, writing something with blood on the window. 

Y

O

U

'

R

E

N

E

X

T

YOU'RE NEXT.

I cried out, slamming the button and unaware that Barnes had been talking this entire time. I stood up, regaining my composure and straightening my suit. "I hope that was a suitable waste of our time. Did it satisfy you?"

"This isn't the moment for pleasantries. Hugo Blake has friends in high places and he has some very good lawyers. I can't hold him for long." I turned to leave, but not before having the final word. 

"Well, Barnes, so do I." I left the room in a hurry, trying to reach the exit as quickly as possible with Lockwood following and calling a taxi. We both got in, and I started to feel my fingers click again, the sound gradually calming me down. But gradually wasn't enough. I wanted to end this. 

"Stop the car." When the car screeched to a halt, I got out and started walking away to who knows where. My feet were just taking me places. 

"What are you doing?!" Lockwood yelled.

"Leaving!" I burst.

"Can we talk about this in the car?! It's far too dangerous out here!"

"There's nothing to talk about. After all, I'm just an asset to you." I spat.

"It's not like that-"

"Yes it is." We both stopped, and again I felt like I was in a cathartic moment, but it still wasn't enough.

"I said I'm sorry about that." 

"No you didn't!" I shrieked. "You clearly don't know anything about me anymore, but that doesn't matter. Whatever gets you on TV or the front page of the newspaper."

"Again, I said I'm sorry." 

"Again, no you haven't." 

"Well, I am. And I'm the one who tried to stop this before it got too dangerous."

"Which shows how little you know!" I retorted. "I can't do this, I really can't. I was just used by Barnes and I saw that Type 5 writing in blood, and I had a hunch that it was meant to be mine. You may be able to turn your emotions on and off like a tap but I am drowning, Lockwood, and I can't just swim out of it so right now I'm kind of thinking that everything would be better if I was gone." I ranted, tears falling down my face.

"I know how that feels." Lockwood reassured. "And we need you. I need you here, with us, because you're Artemis fricking Hernandez, you're like the biggest power figure of the century, if not, the biggest in history. We can't let you go, no matter who or what tries to take you away I will drag you back personally." 

"Barnes will shut you down." I warned. "Lucy's illegal." 

"That's why I was on TV. To show Barnes up and say to hell with the rules. If they can bend them, we can change them."

"But we're nobodies."

"We're not. It's Lockwood and Co and they're in links with the biggest ghost protection company in the world." He grinned sadly, "Just please stay." 

"Just never lie to me again. Swear it." I pleaded.

"I'll never lie to you again. I swear." He took out a flare lamp and lit it, waving it in the air. 

"What's that for? A kind of new Boy Scout agent's swearing thing you learnt?" 

"Nope, there's five shades and three lurkers closing in on us. To be fair, we are in the most haunted part of London."

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 We approached the front door to Lockwood's house, and when I tried opening the door, it was bolted. From the inside. 

"We have a problem." I called. "It's bolted from the inside. What if Blake came after all?" 

"Through here." Lockwood opened a window, so we climbed through and spotted someone in full black and a full coverage mask. "You find George and Lucy, I'll hold him off. Get back to me when you're done." He turned to the robber, "Can I offer you a cup of tea while you ransack my house? One lump or two?" As soon as he threw the flashlight I ran to the basement, finding Lucy and George having a muffled argument. 

"This isn't the time, guys. When I untie you, get to a safe place. Lockwood and I will deal with it." I used my pocketknife to cut their bonds, yanking out my rapier and running upstairs, parrying a well timed lunge and brutally slashing the robber's stomach, hand flying to the wound to prevent blood spillage, which forced them to jump out of the window and run. 

"D'you guys have any idea what they were after?" I asked Lucy while George and Lockwood came up with conspiracy theories. 

"Yeah." She replied. "The ring. And looks like they got it too." We went downstairs, but I fiddled with the chain around my neck as we did so. The box was empty, causing disdain to everyone. 

"This ruins everything." George sulked, but when Lockwood saw me, he got annoyed. 

"Why are you making that face?" Then the truth dawned on him. "That's your 'I know something you don't' face. You didn't..." I pulled the necklace out and showed them the ring inside, grinning like crazy. 

"You maniac!" 

"You brilliant maniac!"

TAGLIST:

@superpositvecloudshipper @courtneyraeblogs1221 @danis-stuff-is-here

[sheetmusiclibrarypdf]

Irving Berlin - White Christmas (from the film Holiday Inn) lyrics and piano

Irving Berlin - White Christmas (from the film Holiday Inn) lyrics and piano (sheet music)

https://dai.ly/x8g6gw1

JAZZ

Irving Berlin

Irving Berlin's Jewish family immigrated from Russia to the United States in 1891. His father was a rabbi who got a job certifying meat under Kosher Law. After the death of his father in 1896, Irving had to find work to survive; he was employed as a newsboy and also performed on the street to get money. The harsh reality of having to work even menial jobs to avoid starvation left a deep mark on Berlin's valuation of money. When he was working as a singing waiter at Pelham's Café in Chinatown, Berlin was asked by the owner to write an original song for the café, because a rival business had its own song published. «Marie from Sunny Italy» was the result, being released soon. Although he only earned 37 cents, it opened the doors to a new career and a new name: Israel Baline was mistakenly printed as "I. Berlin" in the score. Many of her early songs, including "Sadie Salome (Go Home)," "That Mesmerizing Mendelssohn Tune," and "Oh How That German Could Love," achieved modest success both in sheet music, on recording, and on the vaudeville stage. , or as interpolations in various shows; but it was "Alexander's Ragtime Band," written in 1911, that catapulted him into one of Tin Pan Alley's biggest stars. Following the success of "Alexander's", Berlin was rumored to be writing a ragtime opera, yet he produced his first full-length work for the musical stage, "Watch Your Step" (1914), starring Irene and Vernon Castle, the first musical comedy in making penetrating use of syncopated rhythms. A similar show titled "Stop! Look! Listen!» followed that in 1915. In 1917, during World War II, he entered the US Army and staged a musical revue entitled Yip Yip Yaphank while at Camp Upton in Yaphank, New York. Billed as "a military mess cooked up by the boys from Camp Upton", the cast of the show was made up of 350 members of the armed forces. The revue was a patriotic tribute to the US military, and Berlin composed a song titled "God Bless America" ​​for the show, though he ultimately made no use of it. When it was performed years later, it became so popular that it was suggested that it could become the National Anthem, that is, a kind of national song. It has remained until today as one of the most successful songs and one of the best known throughout the United States. Particularly remembered is the interpretation that it was made after the terrorist attack of September 11, 2001, when members of Congress sang it on the steps of the Capitol. Some songs from Yaphank's magazine were later included in the 1943 film "This Is the Army" which also featured other Berlin songs, both the film's title song and a cover of "God Bless America" ​​by Kater Smith. After the war, Berlin built his own theater, the Music Box, as a venue for annual revues featuring his latest songs; the first such magazine was "The Music Box Revue of 1921". The theater is still in use, occasionally. Although most of his works for the Broadway stage took the form of revues — collections of songs with no common theme — he wrote a few book shows. The Cocoanuts (1925) was a comedy, with a cast that included, among others, the Marx Brothers. Face the Music (1932) was a political satire to a book by Moss Hart, and Louisiana Purchase (1940) was a satire of a southern politician, obviously based on the exploits of Huey Long. The show featured a succession of hit songs, including "Easter Parade," "Heat Wave" (presented as the weather forecast), "Harlem on My Mind," and what is perhaps their most powerful ballad, "Supper Time," a tormented song about racial bigotry, with an unusual weight in a musical revue and which was sung by Ethel Waters, a magnificent singer of color, in a heartbreaking interpretation. During World War II, after receiving permission from General George Marshall, Berlin organized a magazine made up of soldiers in the spirit of Yip Yip Yaphank. The result, This Is the Army, opened on July 4, 1942, with a cast of over 300 soldiers, and remained on the stage for three years, first on Broadway, then on a tour of the United States, and then on the Foreign. Irving Berlin's most successful Broadway musical was: Annie Get Your Gun (1946), produced by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II. Loosely based on the life of shooter Annie Oakley, the music and lyrics were written by Berlin, with a book by Herbert Fields and his sister Dorothy Fields. Berlin had been hired after the death of Jerome Kern. At first, he turned down the offer, stating that he knew nothing about hillbilly music, but the show ended up running 1,147 performances. Annie Get Your Gun is considered the best musical in Berlin, not only because of the number of musical hits it contains, but also because its songs successfully combine the description of the characters with the help of the development of the story. In 1927, one of Berlin's songs, "Blue Skies", a hit since 1926, was performed in the first talking picture in cinema history: The Jazz Singer, sung by Al Jolson. Top Hat (1935) was the first in a series of Berlin-sponsored film musicals to star popular and attractive performers (such as Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, Judy Garland, and Ginger Rogers), with romantic storylines and a soundtrack to base of his new and old songs. Irving Berlin did not compose in a traditional way; he used mainly the black keys of a piano. He was a composer of the music for such films as Mark Sandrich's Top Hat (1935), Stuart Heisler's Blue Sky (1946), and Easter Parade (1948). Among his best-known songs are "Everybody's Doin 'It", "There's No Business Like Show Business", "White Christmas" and "Easter Parade". In 1968, he received the Grammy for a life dedicated to music. He was the author of more than fifteen hundred songs, becoming one of the most important composers in the United States. Although he never learned to read music beyond an elementary level, he wrote over 3,000 songs, many of which left an indelible mark on American music and culture. He produced 17 films and 21 Broadway shows, in addition to his individual songs.

List of songs written by Irving Berlin

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[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 32

fandoms: bnha, dc, fma, mdzs, svsss

dc

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge

(mature)

The problem is that Tim’s spent the past month or so slowly getting murdered.

(AKA, An AU where Jason never went to Ethiopia, and Tim takes a different road home to the Waynes.)

Anchor by Sohotthateveryonedied

Tim can’t remember the last time his brain was this quiet. Usually, the only times his mind is this clear are when he’s about to pass out from blood loss or drown in the Gotham Sound. Both of those sound appealing, but Tim is too tired to get up and do it. If he had more energy, he might.

fma

Basement Full of these by asdfghjkl_pudding

Edward should have known trying to resurrect his mother wouldn't turn out right, but there is no way this could be possibly equivalent exchange.

we haunt ourselves by sekalaista

"There's something funny about that kid," Maes says. "I just can't put my finger on it."

fma x bnha

the tin can man by Marcellebelle

(graphic depictions of violence)

Ed loves his little brother. Their dad isn't exactly great at the whole parenting thing, but that just means Ed has to pick up the slack. Which is fine. They have each other, and it's not as though he's going to let anything happen to Al; and Ed knows that one day, Al will become an amazing hero.

Or:

There isn't a world in which Ed doesn't sacrifice everything to save his brother.

mdzs

My Boy Builds Coffins by enbysaurus_rex

Lan Zhan, Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren, and their mother flee to Yiling when the boys are children. Lan Zhan discovers a penchant for coffin making.

Themes and Variations in F# Major by defractum (nyargles)

(explicit)

The thing with musical prodigies is that they're soloists, and soloists play alone. He doesn't want to play alone anymore.

-

"A summer guest lecture series? Oh, very nice. I wish I could sit in on that."

"Do you also play the piano?"

"Not even a little bit," says Wei Ying cheerfully. "But I'm sure you'd have a lot of thoughts on musicality that would be relevant regardless."

"Oh," says Lan Zhan. He seems to be searching for something else to say. "I believe it is oversubscribed," he says finally.

"As it should be," says Wei Ying, and does not tell him that he has all of Lan Zhan's albums downloaded onto his phone, listened to over and over when he's on a train, a plane, waiting for a taxi, has followed his career since he overheard half a Mendelssohn when they were fifteen.

blow me to bermuda by victortor

Lan Wangji was born at the beginning of the world. Wei Wuxian was born at the end.

That was simply how it was.

svsss

voluntary victim (tie the noose) by technorat

(explicit)

Looking back at everything, Shen Qingqiu comes to a conclusion: everything that went wrong in his first life happened because of him.

Or, the Peak Lords search for Shen Qingqiu. Too bad he doesn't want to be found.

[buzzdixonwriter]

Riders Of Death Valley (1941 serial)

Caveat:  For wholly irrational / nostalgic reasons, I love this serial so while I will try to analyze its strengths and weaknesses fairly, don’t expect me to be objective.

Riders Of Death Valley is one of the first serials I remember seeing -- indeed, one of the first things I ever saw on television.  I know my parents purchased our first TV set no later than October 4, 1957 because I remember watching news about Sputnik on it.  We lived in Rocky Mount, NC at the time and I watched afternoon cartoons and cowboy shows on Channel 5 out of Raleigh (the afternoon kid show host called himself Captain Five and used a submarine backdrop for his set).  We moved to Barnardsville, NC (near Asheville) prior to my going to first grade in 1960, so my exposure to Riders Of Death Valley occurred sometime in that three year period.

It made quite an impression on young little Buzzy boy.  Decades later I found myself surprised at how many scenes and set pieces I remembered accurately (not to mention my first exposure to Felix Mendelssohn's “Fingal’s Cave” movement from The Hebrides, which helped cement my lifelong love of classical music).

Called “the million dollar serial” at the time of its release (it wasn’t; the final budget was $460,000 which represented a hefty chunk o’change back in the day), Riders arguably has the most stellar -- and expensive --- cast of any serial if we go by B-movie standards.*

I’ll go on about the ecology of B-movies in a bit, but right now let’s just focus on Riders’ cast.  These were major names in the B-Western genre and the B-Western genre is nothing to sneeze at; several times stars like Gene Autry and Roy Rogers made the top box office draw list even though appearing only in B-Westerns.

And man, if you’re familiar with the world of B-Westerns, you’ll recognize what a stellar cast this was for the day:

Dick Foran (Jim Benton) appeared in 163 movies and TV episodes, often as a supporting character in A-films but better known as a hero of B-movies including horror flicks and Abbott & Costello movies but most famously as one of several singing cowboys in the wake of Gene Autry and Roy Rogers. 

Leo Carrillo (Pancho Lopez) is best known today for his role as Pancho on The Cisco Kid TV series but appeared in literally hundreds of films and TV episodes.

Buck Jones (Tombstone) found stardom in the silent era, being one of the most popular cowboy stars in the 1920s.  When he balked at becoming a singing cowboy, his career stalled out in the early 1930s though he soon made a comeback with a series of successful B-Westerns.  After completing Riders he went on to make nine (!) B-Westerns in the next twelve months, dying tragically in the infamous Coconut Grove fire while reportedly saving the lives of others.

Charles Bickford (Wolf Reade) played small parts in big pictures and big parts in small pictures, and was nominated three times for a best supporting actor Oscar.

Guinn "Big Boy" Williams (Borax Bill) appeared in over 220 movies and TV episodes in a career dating back to the silent era, starring in Westerns in the 1920s and early 30s but moving into amicable sidekick roles by the 1940s.

Lon Chaney, Jr. (Butch) is most famous for his roles in The Wolfman and other horror films, but he made Riders just two years after being nominated for a supporting Oscar in Of Mice And Men as well as appearing in numerous Westerns of the era.

Noah Beery, Jr. (Smokey) is best known today as TV’s Rockford Files dad, but he appeared in hundreds of films and TV episodes as well as starring in a few B-Westerns as an unconventional low key cowpoke.  (By astonishing coincidence, he was recently married to Buck Jones’ daughter at the time of Riders filming.)

The rest of the cast includes such recognizable names as Glenn Strange (Frankenstein’s monster and Matt Dillion’s bartender), Roy Barcroft (Republic studio’s go-to guy for screen villainy, freelancing for Universal this time), Monte Blue (silent matinee idol now playing supporting roles), and in an early role, Rod Cameron (who in addition to playing an unnamed bad guy also doubled for Buck Jones…but more on that below).

Lest one think the testosterone levels are off the scale, there are two females in the serial:  Jean Brooks played Mary Morgan, heir to a lost gold mine, and Ruth Rickaby as Kate, wife of one of the outlaws.

Of Rickaby, there is no biographical information; she made 21 movies between 1939 and 1961 but nothing else is known about her.   

Of Brooks, a sad tale to tell.  Though she made 41 films and serials, she’s best known as the suicidal devil worshipper in Val Lewton’s The Seventh Victim.  Her early film career saw her using the names Jeanne Kelly (as in Riders) and Robina Duarte in Spanish language films (she was bilingual).  Changing her name after marrying screenwriter Richard Brooks, she continued working until 1948 when alcoholism rendered her unemployable.  She and Brooks divorced, she married twice after that (and apparently was married before Brooks but no information on that can be found), and eventually died of cirrhosis at age 47.

There’s a point to be gleaned in all that, but I’ll leave it to others to do so.

Riders Of Death Valley was directed by Ford Beebe and Ray Taylor, two old hands at this sort of thing.  Screenplay is by Basil Dickey, Sherman L. Lowe, Jack O'Donnell (as Jack Connell), and George H. Plympton off an original story by Oliver Drake.  Of O’Donnell little can be gleaned; he apparently enjoyed a career in the 1920s as a successful playwright, did a few stories and screenplays for Hollywood, then ended his professional writing career with Riders, dying in 1965 at age 75.

The other four have screenplay and story credits in B-movies and serials -- particularly Westerns -- stretching into the hundreds.  Dickey even wrote the great-grandma of them all, The Perils Of Pauline in 1914!

That being said -- and loving this serial as much as I do -- I gotta say, “It took five of you to come up with this?”

Because to be frightfully honest, this is a paper thin story, on par with comic book writing of the era.  Everybody tends to speak in declarative sentences, the writing and characterization is too on the nose.

And ya know what?  Who gives a rat’s patoot?  The onscreen chemistry of Foran / Jones / Carillo / Williams is what makes this a delight.  It’s not a Western, it’s four grown men playing cowboys & outlaws and they know they’re playing cowboys & outlaws and they know the kids in the audience know they know they’re just playing cowboys & outlaws but they’re telling the kids, “We want you to play along, too!”

Now do you understand why I love this serial?

I gotta say, for the most purportedly expensive serial Universal ever made, they sure spent their money in the right place with their casting.  Yeah, you can pick this story to shreds easily, but why would you want to do that?  It’s four guys and their friends having a good time playing cowboys & outlaws and they want you to have a good time watching them.

The serial was shot in Death Valley and the Alabama Hills in California, familiar territory to B-Western and B-sci-fi fans.

  © Buzz Dixon

  *  There are actors who became famous and successful after making serials (John Wayne, Boris Karloff, and Lloyd Bridges to name three), there were actors who once topped box office popularity polls who sank to serial hack work (alas, poor Bela, we hardly knew ye), there were several regularly working character actors who appeared in everything from bit parts in A-pictures to staring rolls in serials (Lionel Atwill falls in this category), but the bulk of serial performers never rose higher than small parts in B-movies.  They can’t all be winners, folks…

[an-aura-about-you]

For the PT ask game: 🎼 (Favorite song used in the show?); 🗡 (Unpopular opinions?)

Favorite Song: Oh dear, that first one is really tough because all the music in the show is just wonderful. Can I cheat and pick one character that ends up with a lot of songs I like? Yes? No? If I can cheat, I'm gonna say pretty much all the songs associated with Rue. But if I absolutely must pick only one song, then I'm going with Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saens. I am never going to be able to listen to that song again without picturing the madness of Goldkrone descending into the Crow Festival or Rue's desperation to save Mytho from the harm that she brought him. I am gonna cheat a little and pick a runner up: A Midsummer Night's Dream - Overture by Felix Mendelssohn. It's a piece I've liked since before I got back into classical music, and the episode with Hermia was just a lot of fun.

Unpopular Opinions: Hoo boy, I know I've got unpopular opinions, so let's get my spiciest one out of the way: I think it's important to refer to Duck by whatever the word for "duck" is in a person's primary language. Someone came into my ask box about that a while ago asking what's wrong with calling her Ahiru since that's her name, and I gave it a long answer, but here's the shorter, more accurate answer: she doesn't have a name. She's a duck. That's the point.

Second unpopular opinion: I don't want Princess Tutu to get any sort of sequel/continuation material. A reboot or a movie of the events of the show is fine, but the show itself said a story with no ending is a kind of tragedy. Princess Tutu has a very thematically satisfying ending, and I don't want to lose that. I'm fine with fanfiction and fanart and such because that's just for fun. That's me having my cake and eating it, too. But an actual canon continuation? I don't need it.

Third unpopular opinion, but this one's more of a joke: Anteaterina got robbed. My girl's got both raw talent and endurance and probably would have been able to dance Giselle even with the burden of the Heartshard of Bitter Disappointment. She did like over 50 fouettes in her danceoff with Princess Tutu!! She deserved a spot in the Advanced Class!

[cjstalkingstarwarsagain]

hi! i’ve recently decided to rewatch all the star wars movies and take notes on them and then,,, share them with you. so if you’re even mildly interested in my star wars opinions, here you go :)

i’ll divide it into a couple categories so,,,

well start with rogue one!!

shit that made me giggle

"oh look, here’s lyra back from the dead. it’s a miracle."

everything K2 says and does. i love him and he’s perfect.

i love the continuous attempts by K2 to appear imperial and how he fails every time. not a single storm trooper or officer ever believes him when he starts running his mouth.

so sorry but bohdi getting his cable caught and trying to shake it loose is such an adorably human moment. makes me giggle every time.

i honestly thought this section would be longer, this movie made me laugh a bunch. 

stuff i don’t like or doesn’t make sense

why does jyn start believing in the rebellion? there’s no indication that she cared before they found her. there’s no real turning point that we can see. she just,,, suddenly is really into this shit. which is strange because the only reason she ever joined was because she was given a non-choice (either help or get put back in prison). i guess i can kinda see how her father dying could have changed her, but we see none of that on the ship after his death. we just get to the rebel council and all of a sudden she’s the poster girl for rebellion.

saw seems really stable at the beginning of the film, so why did he go seemingly crazy and paranoid? it’s probably explained in the novelization but that’s no excuse to just have a character go crazy with really no explanation or backstory.

that being said, a lot of the character development is pretty lacking. i don’t think i’d care about these characters nearly as much if i wasn’t already a star wars fan.

video game cut scene style general tarkin

bor gullet is supposed to make you lose your mind but bohdi was pretty much fine after like,,, a day

how does the death star,,,, move?? like i know it can but has that ever been explained? is it like little thrusters? like the ones you can see in real life to stabilize things in space? there’s nothing i can visually see. i’m not mad about it i just wanna know.

why does saw insist on staying behind? why doesn’t he come and help?? it would have been so easy to just leave but he insists on staying behind and just watching as death inches closer. i think it doesn’t make sense because we know *so little* about his character. give me more on him, make me understand.

since james earl jones is getting older, vader sounds older. was there??? nothing the audio or editing department could have done about that??? not super mad about this one just because darth vader is really cool and i’ll never really complain too much about darth vader screen time.

when the fuck did jyn become a motivational speaker??

my one gripe about pretty much every star wars movie is the sheer number of times people climb through huge shafts and jump around and shit and they’re always *fine*. no way they wouldn’t fall to their deaths in any normal situations.

can someone?? check the science of the hammerhead corvette?? because there’s no gravity or weight in space right?? theoretically all you gotta do is give that star destroyer a bump and it’s spinning out, right?? i know absolutely nothing about space physics but i gotta be right. maybe i’m wrong. i dunno. i’m dumb as rocks. hear that baby girl?? it’s the spare change rattling around in my skull. i got pennies where my brain is.

absolutely no fucking shot cassian survived a blaster hit AND that fall AND climbed out. my belief simply cannot be suspended that much.

DUDE I FORGOT THAT THE DEATH STAR CAN TRAVEL THROUGH HYPERSPACE HOW DOES WORK SOMEONE TELL ME!!!!!

why doesn’t vader just,,, force grab the plans. i know he sees them. why not just force stop the guy running away with them??

final note now that the movie is over. yes, it’s got a lot of issues. the plot is ehhh at times. the trailers don’t match up with the movie shots AT ALL (i wanna know what happened behind the scenes with that). the character development is lacking in many major ways (that has not stopped me from loving these characters though, but that’s the autism talking). but like i’ll say in the "stuff i liked" section, this is such a damn cool movie. i was once talking about it with an older friend of mine and he said seeing rogue one in theaters felt like watching the original trilogy in theaters back in the 70s and 80s and honestly that’s such a compliment. i love this movie, i really do.

just cool shit,,, you know the vibe

DEATH TROOPERS

krennic is probably one of my favorite imperial officers. for some reason he just really sells it for me, the evil and manipulation that borderlines in try hard. and (i mention it more later because you see it more in the "choke on your aspirations" scene) beyond that just the fact that he’s?? a guy. just a dude. at any given moment he could be described as just hanging out. but he’s trying so hard (for whatever reason, we don’t know his evil motivations) to be this big bad evil dude. and it’s just interesting to see someone *trying* to be imperial and *trying* to be evil, as opposed to a tarkin-type character who’s just naturally an asshole.

i love the rogue one main theme. don’t even talk to me. it’s so cool.

it’s cool to see more about the birth of the death star, seeing other people learn about it. sort of realizing the fear and terror that everyone must have been experiencing. especially after being a star wars fan for so long and being like, yeah it’s the death star it’s just a staple of this universe. it reminds me that "oh god this was a planet killer and this was the first time something like that had ever even been heard of".

there’s gorgeous visuals in this movie.

i like the "i’m wanted in 12 systems" guy cameo (did you know his name is cornelius? i googled it)

when the storm trooper asks for papers?? like fuck yeah show me what life is like under imperial rule. give me that shit.

chirrut is so badass i’ll never get over it

"i’m one with the force and the force is with me" i’m eating that shit UP! salivating over the meal in front of me. i really want more exploration of the guardians and jedi worship in general. like gimme that weird funky space religion.

seeing an at-st just walk around a town. i dunno i like that shit.

K2 saying sorry for hitting cassian. i’m so soft on this robot.

"clear of hostiles,,,, ONE HOSTILE"

jyn stepping in front of K2 to protect him after she (not ten minutes ago) made the comment “i’m just afraid they’ll miss you and hit me”. jyn,,, your soft side is showing,,,,

i like the cool machine blaster that baze has. it’s awesome seeing different blaster styles when originally the only variation we really saw was chewie’s cross bow style blaster.

i really wanna see more of baze and cirruit. i wanna know what happened that made baze stop believing. i wanna know how they met. i wanna see them evolve and grow together.

i like that jyn argues that 16 is too young to be a solider (she’s 21 in the movie). i like that she’s mad that she’s young and has been put in a position to protect herself and then later save the galaxy. (for context: luke and leia were 19 in a new hope. anakin is 19 in attack of the clones, ~22 when he became darth vader, and rey is 19 in force awakens. stop putting the fate of the galaxy in the hands of people who are *barely* adults)

the testing of the death star is awesome. love seeing wicked cool space weapons. when it blocks out the sun? ominous as hell fuck yeah.

it’s interesting that baze says cassian doesn’t look like a killer, that "he has the face of a friend", when one of the first things we saw him do was kill a man. i think about that a lot. does that say more about baze’s ability to read people or does it say more about who cassian is deep down, beyond what he’s done to serve the rebellion?

cassian’s relationship with death and killing is very interesting. you could argue that cassian is just as brainwashed and deep in the rebellion as anyone imperial. i really hope it’s something that gets explored in his stand alone show. he mentions he’s lost everything and has been a rebel since he was 6. gimme cassian andor backstory.

"careful not to choke on your aspirations director" is probably some of the most dramatic-anakin-skywalker shit i’ve ever seen vader do

i like seeing rebel infighting. so often it seems there’s always general consensus about what the rebellion wants, but it’s good to see that they don’t always agree on how to rebel.

i love the consistent "found family" rebel alliance shit in these movies. it makes my dick so hard.

ARTOO AND THREEPIO CAMEO FUCK ME UP THOSE ARE MY BOYS

okay i totally get that the empire is evil, i really do, but rogue one (and lots of moments in the sequels) really reminds me how fucking cool some of their shit is. like death troopers? imperial droids like K2? the base on scarif? vader’s castle on mustafar and his bacta tank?? fuck me UP.

i loved hearing the troopers doing their dumb small talk about the T-15s on the beach.

i think ben mendelssohn is perfect for the role of krennic, no notes there. he’s just like?? a guy and he’s doing everything he can to fit into this evil role and he just wants to be like this big bad imperial boy on campus. i don’t know. i don’t have the words right now to express how fuckin awesome he is. i’ll write an essay about it later.

THE AT-AT COMING OUT OF THE MIST?? CHRIST ON A BIKE. LAY ME TO REST. LOVE IT.

fucking love me some female fighter pilots. the women of star wars are so badass. doing justice to my return of the jedi ladies.

i think a whole lot about jyn giving K2 a blaster. the way he takes it and looks at it and holds it so gently. i think that’s the first time a human has trusted him with a blaster since his reprogramming. he seems so appreciative of that trust.

i love seeing the faces of baze and the other rebels when a few of the x-wings show up and take down an at-at. i’m so very soft for the relationship between these rebels. not to be cliche, but the *hope* that they have. it’s so moving. this movie is just so full of that quintessential rebel feeling.

hey so i’m super emotional about the death of K2 okay? because in the novelizations you learn that in the last second k2 had before a full shut down, he ran a simulation where cassian lived and even though he knew it was impossible, it made him happy. FURTHERMORE K2 is very well known and his name is often listed along side jyn’s in terms of talking about the history of the rebellion.

chirrut and baze’s deaths are so important to me. we know they’re best friends, and even though we don’t know how long they’ve been together, they love each other so deeply. chirrut being the path for baze to return to the force? touching. i so wish these dumb force husbands could have had more screen time. baze calling chirrut back?? chirrut telling him to find him in the force?? baze looking to see the man he loves one more time before he dies??reminds me of the silken quote about dying in your best friends arms because it’s all you know. anywho,,, if star wars canon has any mercy then these two lovers are force ghosts together rn. don’t care how you feel or whether you "ship" them or not. love comes in so many forms and they encompass all that love.

terribly sorry but i think about those two star destroyers colliding with the rogue one main theme playing over it every day. it’s,,,,, so,,,, ( ´∀｀)

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again BEN MENDELSSOHN??? UH YEAH

krennic watching his weapon (his beautiful, successful weapon) power up and kill him,,, the poetic justice of it all,,,,

any time anyone says "may the force be with you" i dunno maybe it’s my religious trauma but i’m head over heels for that good shit

the star destroyer coming out of hyper space as the rebels are escaping and some of the ships hit the destroyer?? one of my favorite things in the new star wars movies is directors and writers saying "oh this can totally happen" and they DO IT

jyn mentioning earlier in the film that she isn’t used to people sticking around when shit hits the fan and then dying in the arms of cassian?? because he stayed?? and for the first time she has someone??

in that same vein: cassian also says earlier in the film that he lost everything too. his connection with jyn is also important to him, just as important as it is to jyn. they need each other. i can’t remember who on this hellsite said it, but someone mentioned that they hope the stand alone cassian stuff coming out doesn’t make him this swindling playboy who fucks around a bunch. i think having him as more of like?? a mandolorian type character would be really cool. like he’s a rebel assassin: make him one. make him independent and badass and cool and DONT give him a bunch of romantic or sexual interests because then that downplays the clear love he had developing for jyn. again LOVE COMES IN FORMS BEYOND BASIC SHIPS. and there’s a lot of love in star wars.

i’ve said it a million times but vader is so cool and over and over again this movie reminded me that he’s actually so scary. i saw star wars for the first time when i was 6 and i can’t remember my initial reaction to him, but i’ve definitely (like with the death star) been desensitized to the fact that if i was in star wars, darth vader would scare the shit out of me. he’s *scary* and that’s cool. i liked seeing vader effortlessly go fucking mad on these rebels. then you understand why they were so scared in that first scene of a new hope.

no i absolutely will not get over the vader scene. i won’t. his saber turning on. his force abilities. his effortless lightsaber work. the choral music over the scene with the hectic orchestra. don’t touch me i’m emotional.

i loved seeing leia. it touches me so deeply every time.

fuck i love this movie despite all its faults.

if you’ve made it this far, thank you!! i hope you enjoyed. please remember that this is totally a safe space for all star wars opinions and you can feel free to disagree with me! i’d love to hear what some of you thought :))

[morbidly-malicious-muffins]

What Kind of Music Slashers Would Vibe to Headcanons♪

This little thing popped into my head. Fyi, the canon timelines are thrown out the window for this so... Yeah.

Bring forth the bop~

RZ Michael Myers

"Let my weapons be your children, let my armies be your damned. Try to suffer on in silence, try to stop me if you can." --- This Cold Black by Slipknot

I think he'd really enjoy metal in general. I can totally see him unknowingly stomping to some Marilyn Manson and Meshuggah, though the lyrics and message probably will just fly over his head.

He listens to some heavy shit, but probably all the more mainstream bands/artists.

The loudness and organized chaos of the genre fills the void in his soul and reflects the state of his mind, despite his stoic and non-verbal outer demeanor.

Someone please do everyone a favor and introduce Michael to some death metal. Admit it, it really fits his aesthetic.

This is just based on speculation, but I suspect a 70% possibility of RZ Michael resonating with Cannibal Corpse. Fight me.

He hates classical music with a burning passion. Back in Smith's Grove, they played Bach's Air Sul G on tap. (its canon in the first movie lmao) He hates it. Mikey no likey.

Freddy Krueger

"No stop signs, speed limit, nobody's gonna slow me down. Like a wheel, gonna spin it, nobody's gonna mess me around." --- Highway to Hell, by AC/DC

Freddy listens to classic rock, period.

This guy is ngl a supporter of music taste discrimination. You listen to pop? Disgusting. You listen to Jazz? Disgusting. Classic rock is the epitome of all music.

He'll call you music-related slurs you never knew existed.

As stubborn adamant as Freddy is, he does harbor some guilty pleasures, including 70's hair metal and glam rock. Pshh. What a heckin hypocrite.

Some of his all time favorites are Guns N' Roses, Led Zeppelin, Van Halen, and AC/DC.

(Basic bitch)

*Hip thrust movements to go with his 'The Sprinkler' dance moves, Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses blasting in the background*

OG Michael Myers

He doesn't listen to music, but if he did, he would probably enjoy Jazz.

Michael only listens to Miles Davis because he enjoys his music and can't be bothered to discover more artists.

Oml Michael I know Miles Davis is amazing but don't neglect other iconic artists plzzz. Someone please make him listen to some Teddy Wilson and/or Dave Brubeck.

I imagine him sitting stiff-straight on a rocking chair (he just likes how it moves), knife in his lap, rocking and zoning-out relaxing to 'Blue in Green'. (I love that piece)

#AfterHeFinallyKillsLaurie

#RetirementGoals

He also hates classical music because of the same reason as RZ Myers. Seriously, if either of them so much as hears the opening chord of Air Sul G, expect the speaker to be stomped to a pulp in a split second.

Bubba Sawyer

Alright let's all be honest with ourselves... 70's pop and country is Bubba's shit.

Look me in the face and tell me he wouldn't adore ABBA, The Jackson 5, and Dolly Parton. Thats right you can't

Everytime 'Dancing Queen' starts playing on the radio, Bubba will drop everything and start busting down.

Ain't nothing and nobody stoppin him. Drayton is powerless against the supreme sovereignty that is ABBA.

But let's also appreciate the fact that our Bubster can motherfuckin get down. *wipes sweat from forehead + heart eyes*

He would also do passionate lip sync with his heart and soul, to Dolly Parton's 'I Will Always Love You'.

50% chance of him starting to cry right after he finishes his earnest performance.

*Holding Bubba in your arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back as he bawls hysterically, incoherently babbling on about how much he loves you*

I also feel for some reason he'd really like Joan Jett & The Blackhearts.

Thomas Hewitt

"For one moment, I wish you'd hold your stage, with no feelings at all. Open minded, I'm sure I used to be so free." --- Citizen Erased by Muse

Y'know what I have a hard time imagining the type of music Tommy listens to. Kutos, Mr. Hewitt, you have defeated me.

siKE

(This is where I yeet the timeline out of the window y'all)

Thomas enjoys Muse, Evanescence, and Radiohead. (Fight me)

He just loves how emotional their songs are. He'd have one earbud in as he works away at his projects for hours. The music helps him concentrate, it is also a source of emotional support to him.

Hearing the heart-wretching lyrical content of 'Lost in Paradise' performed so beautifully by Amy Lee's angellic voice is really comforting to him. It's like hearing about another person's experiences. It makes him feel less alone in dealing with his emotional and mental turmoils and burdens.

The first time Thomas heard 'Creep' by Radiohead, he almost cried.

He also listens to My Chemical Romance sometimes. He only knows the Black Parade album, but he loves it. If 'Creep' didn't make him cry, listening to that entire album from top to bottom sure did. He started sobbing half-way through 'Famous Last Words'.

Tommy is emotional boi 🥺

Brahms Heelshire

C l a s s i c a l

No matter how stinky Brahms is, you can't tell me that he's not classy.

Schubert is his bitch. Schubert's style tends to be quite majestic and/or dreamy, (generally) and can change color/sound very abruptly yet appropriately. (This is just my opinion based on experience with Schubert's pieces, but then I only know his piano pieces soo) (let's still cue that maestoso to scherzando transition)

But of course, Schubert isn't the only thing he listens to. He prefers the romantic period, so Mendelssohn, Rachmaninoff, Chopin, Shostakovich, Brahms, Schumann, you get the gist, all the staples. Oh yeah Elgar too. To be a proud English lad.

*Brahms swaying in the living room with the grace of a baby giraffe, engrossed in the beautiful melodies in Schumann's Kinderszenen.*

(Oml please check out 'Von fremden Landern und Manschen' and 'Kind im Einschlummern') (For those who play piano, they aren't that difficult too totally recommend) (Ok sorry I'm done now)

Brahms would totally waltz around alone to Chopin's waltzes and nocturnes.

Oh yeah apart from that classy shit, he likes to jam to meme songs.

"Hey now, you're an all star, get your game on, go play---"

*cut to Brahms passionately fortnite dancing*

Listens to The Strange Man Who Sings About Dead Animals for a good laugh. (Please, all of his songs are gold)

Vincent Sinclair

He'll have 'emo' and 'classical' with a side of metal, thanks.

I headcanon that Vinny McWaxy is an INFJ, so the boy is likely prone to crippling existentialism. It would make sense for some aspects of his music taste to reflect that.

*cut to Vincent sitting rock-still on his workbench/stool, hands hover in mid-air, staring straight ahead, some John Cage piece playing*

You'll never hear this from Vincent but he enjoys sexy-time music. He has this whole erotic playlist he listens to while working. (Boy likes to feel sexy on the job, I respect that.)

I think its pretty much canon that Vinny loves MCR. (Hello fellow emo piece of shit 👋) His favorites are everything by them really. A hardcore fan. He used to have MCR, P!ATD, and 30 Seconds to Mars posters plastered everywhere in his workshop until he had to remove them all to add to the intimidation factor of his waxy hell for passer-bys. For the record, he is very gay for Frank Iero.

On the metal part of his spectrum is mostly classic metal, groove metal, and thrash/heavy metal.

Rammstein, Pantera, Vildhjarta, new and old Metallica, Dream Theatre, Coheed and Cambria. His bitches.

He also uses music to scare victims when bringing them down to his workshop. *cue horror movie soundtracks*

*KI KI KI MA MA MA*

Is a whore for the dramatics when in a good mood.

*Lacrimosa by Mozart plays as he makes a point to bring the wax painfully slowly down toward a drowsy and petrified victim*

A lament for your upcoming death, pitiful human.

Bo Sinclair

"The day has come for all us sinners, if you're not a servant you'll be struck to the ground." -- Beast and The Harlot by Avenged Sevenfold

Bastard boy is into dad-music™. (same)

Dad rock, classic rock, pop punk, punk rock, old school pop, his shit.

He listens to a lot of the same bands as Freddy, but Bo (generally) doesn't discriminate and explores a more diverse variety of music.

Its a fandom canon that Bo loves Avenged Sevenfold. I totally agree.

A7x is the perfect amount of cynical, political, and shred for Beauregard, (I hc that ge hates his full name so plz don't ever call him Beauregard)

He listens to the radio whenever he's at work. Whatever that might be.

Will NEVER admit it, but he thinks Vinny's music taste is dope as hell.

He'll turn off the radio just to strain his ears to listen to Vincent's music downstairs. No one will ever know that though. You don't.

Actually likes classical music too. Its not one of his main genres but there's one piece he really likes, Second Movement of Shostakovich Piano Concerto No. 2 in F Major.

He never thought he'd enjoy this type of music. Its so.... Calm. He discovered that piece from Vinny's playlist. When he first heard it on his brother's speaker, he fell in love. It was one of the extremely rare cases in which he'd be committed enough to ask Vinny the name of the music.

Tiny shuffle for man-kind, huge fuckin step for Bo. Good job Bo, we're proud of you.

Also pleeeeeaaase message me or request stuff, I'm bored and have little inspiration 🦊

I might do a pt2 of this, since I didn't write many of the boys and gals🤷‍♀️

Also sorry if I've neglected some genres/artists (Like i've neglected non-piano classical pieces.... Bc ya girl is just a pianist), a person can't know everything😗

---Zali 🖤

[minipliny]

Moses Mendelssohn, Emelie du Chatelet, G. E. Lessing (Nando's optional): 4, 10, 13?

Oh my goodness. I'm going to have to very gently bop Lessing with a book (of his accounts and tax returns) because that's the only person on the list I wouldn't feel terrible about.

So both Moses Mendelssohn and Emilie du Chatelet co-authored books, but those were a Torah commentary and a treatise on Newtonian physics respectively. I am not spectacularly well equipped to contribute! But I feel were I to come to du Chatelet with the stirring tale of how I was ignored by my high school maths teacher and told not to take Further Maths A-Level, while the video-game-obsessed boys were all coaxed through their exams, she would take pity on my gendered struggles to access STEM and be patient with my nigh-innumeracy as I "helped" by asking her to explain everything in words of one syllable to me.

I can read Jean Nordhaus' book on Moses Mendelssohn to him so we can find out for once and for all how far, as @suspected-spinozist rightly pointed out, this differs from his lived experience and opinions on Yiddish. OR MARTIN BUBER, TIME IS A FLAT CIRCLE NOW.

OK, I feel like du Chatelet would enjoy the part of geocaching where you figure out GPS and how coordinates work with that and get out and about on an adventure and then feel no need to repeat it, but I also got utterly distracted remembering her amazing gambling debt finance schemes and... I long for some 18th century acidic commentary upon bitcoin.

Lessing would be a delightful beachcombing companion! There is no such thing as an uninteresting rock or piece of driftwood. I don't think he is as into geology as e.g. Salt Mine Statue Goethe whatsoever, but I feel that the broad implications, the curvaceous beauties, the catalogibility of pebbles would be enjoyable.

I am going on a walking tour with Mendelssohn containing 0 overly wide ditches. It is probably a walking tour of, like, Unter den Linden followed by the theatre and a local park, because short of seeing Immanuel Kant or some thermal baths, leaving Berlin the centre of the universe was truly not worth it, but it would be an extremely pleasant walk and there would be some trees which were truly, ecstatically, wholeheartedly appreciated. There is nothing like taking some time to feel the sublime presence of a tree OK.

And finally: have as your wedding planner, have as your parole officer, have as the Fake Date you bring to a family event OH MY LORD.

Most likely to have a sympathetic and flexible system of the criminal justice system, the meaning of "guilt", and someone's need to just live their life: Lessing I imagine?

I. Uh. Wedding planner versus fake date. Shelomit thanks for doing this to my brain.

Emilie du Chatelet was kind of partied out by age 26 and was trying very hard to carve out her own time for her own interests Not That, much as she knew how TO party, so I'm. OK. I realise that Mendelssohn was absolutely not a wedding planner, but an organised...person? a low key event where everyone has been reminded of the date? nice readings? Because the other problem here is that an 18th century French aristocrat party is going to be a Lot Of Party. Sometimes people just ask you to tell them if they can have sex before marriage or to organise a cocktail reception when you're a prominent philosopher! it is how it is.

Finally, I'm taking du Chatelet as my Fake Date and I am super ready for Voltaire to turn up halfway through, cause drama, retract accusations, make up everything, declare that as he can't get it up these days it's all totally understandable &c &c &c before anyone can even get a word in edgeways. I pay du Chatelet in protractors and slide rules and fake the kind of mysterious intellectual depths that would make this scenario even remotely plausible.

[hunterartemisanime]

Kuroko no Basket Headcanons: Generation of Miracles (+ select few) as Classical Pieces

I Know I am six years too late, but the quarantine opened my viewpoint to this great anime. And I have looked, so far I haven’t came across this particular type of HC for KnB yet. So enjoy: 

Kuroko Tetsuya: Gnossienne no 1 by Erik Satie

Gnossiene no 1 by Erik Satie is quite paradoxical in nature. It is supposed to be “dance-like” in movement, but it is so minimalistic that in it’s movement it almost sounds creepy. If it’s left at the background, no one will hardly notice that a music is being played--as if, it’s a trail of a faint perfume which is remarkable when the first whiff is taken but you immediately forget how was the smell. It’s like Kuroko:  he is invisible and has no presence at all, but as he starts to get noticed you see his unique abilities. This piece is very new and experimental, which also can indicate it’s similarity with Kuroko’s misdirection as a passing technique: unique and invisible.

Kise Ryota: Symphony no 4 “Italian”: Allegro Vivace by Felix Mendelssohn

Bright and Vivacious, Mendelssohn’s “Italian” screams extroversion, positiveness and brilliance. It is also the creation of the Romantic Age: that signify love for the fellow human and nature. Something Kise radiates as he enters the screen. Kise is famous for his modelling career, therefore he must be called “well liked face” and “overrated” a few times, which also goes well with this piece because, this particular piece of “Allegro Vivace” is one of the most common and overplayed Classical piece. Mendelssohn was also known for he remarkable “Beethoven-like style”--and what is Kise famous for? “Perfect Copy”.

Aomine Daiki: Caprice 24 by Niccolo Paganini

One of the Hardest classical pieces of all time, Niccolo Paganini’s Caprice 24 tests the mettle of a violin player. Passionate, rule-breaking, free flowing, this Caprice is very much the essence of Daiki Aomine’s style of basketball playing. It is said that Niccolo Paganini originated many Violin techniques, which never existed before and god knows no one could figure out how Aomine does the “Formless Shots”.The portrayal of “Aomine Daiki” as the “Big Bad” in the season one can be associated with the enigma and mystrey Paganini’s reputation carried: The Devil’s Violinist.

Murasakibara Atsushi:  Also sprach Zarathustra, Op.30 - Einleitung by Richard Strauss

This Classical piece is perhaps the most iconic piece of all times. Whenever something is hinted to be grand and imposing this piece is used, so there was no better music than this to highlight Murasakibara’s herculean presence in the court. It is intimidating, imposing and gets bigger and bigger as the time progresses until is overpowers the listners: a style which Musrasakibara applies when he plays the Center in the court.

Midorima Shintarou: No 40 in G Minor : Molto Allegro by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Mozart belongs to the 18th century, an age known as Age of Rationality, control of emotions, satire and court music. Technically Mozart is in the Baroque age, which is known for it’s extravagance and indulgence in music and art with heavy dependency on God. Midorima’s motto is “God Proposes Man Disposes” and he is heavily dependent in Horoscope. Despite that, Midorima is calculated and rational: a paradox of a character. The no 40 of Mozart is considered as one of his “mathematically symmetrical pieces”--Midorima is obsessed in perfection, and doing everything so obsessively perfect that there was nothing better to describe him than this piece. 

Akashi Seijuro: Erlkonig by  Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst 

Erlkonig is a poem by Goethe that describes the journey of father and son on horseback through the forest where the Elf King tries to disillusion the boy and finally kills him. This poem was first transcribed into an aria (song) by Schubert and then into a grand caprice of Violin by Ernst. The caprice has two voice: the piano part, the vocals, both played on violin at the same time, which not only is difficult but nearly impossible. The caprice which forces the violinist to play everything is also very Akashi-sh in nature: “he is at his best when he is not depending on his team” or rather “he becomes the team” in the Rakuzan vs Seirin Match. Apart from that, the storyline of Erlkonig highlights the inner struggle of Akashi and Bokushi, which is very much the struggle of the Boy and the illusive Elf King, a terror the boy is trying to escape. This piece not only depicts Akashi’s impossible qualities but also the terrifying influence of his father and the inner conflict he has within himself.

Takao Kazunari: Overture: Die Fladermaus by Johann Strauss II

Die Fladermause or The Revenge of the Bat is a comic Operetta by Johann Strauss II. It is about a gentleman who fooled his best friend. They visited a "fancy-dress"-party and this friend was dressed up as a bat. This operetta is about his revenge - The revenge of the FLEDERMAUS. the entire operatta is a huge troll, like Takao: when everyone, including his teammate is super serious, he lightens everything and laughs. He wheels around Midorima and is expected to play the fool like the lead character of the Operatta. However his keen and malicious intent comes at the court, sneaking behind his humorous personality where the “revenge” part of the comic opera can highlight.

Kagami Taiga: Symphony no 7 by Ludvig Van Beethoven

The “Symphony no 7” is called the “nameless symphony” by Beethoven. This is brilliant for Kagami because at the beginning of the series he is an unknown player in the time where “Generation of Miracles” dominate the space, he is even termed as “the Miracle who didn’t get to be the Miracle”. Regardless to his anonymity, he comes with a bang and grows as a person and a player, like the Symphony itself: the ensemble of the instrument makes the sound bigger and bigger after the “start with a bang”--which also shows Kagami’s effort to grow with his team, which sets him apart from the miracles. In the symphony no 7, even the smallest sounds of the winds contribute to the dynamics of the symphony, which highlights how much Kagami acknowledges Kuroko and the benchwarmers. 

--

tagging because I am afraid this will be getting unnoticed #NoticeMeSenpai:

@yanderebakugo @kurokonoboisket​ @midorimachine​ @art-zites​ @idinaxye

@sp-chernobyl​ @avxda-kedxvra​ @rilnen​ @lextotherescue​ @reservethemoon​

[inlovewithdisaster]

JUDGE PROFILE: TOBIAS MENDELSSOHN

tobias’ formal contest experience has been……spotty, to say the least. he loved the performing arts as a kid and coordinated/composed frequently outside of his classes, and with his record of misbehavior as a small child, this was one of the few things he would miraculously sit still and focus on. but in the past few years, joining a 200-or-so-year-long fight for justice in a foreign country has really put a pause on his passion, to say the least; when he stands on stage today, he’s dusting off some serious childhood cobwebs that have collected on his art. 

that’s not to say he’s completely rusty, however. in the year that he’s led preuzien, he’s had some contest appearances here and there, and he’s done a great number of street performances of traditional draconid dragon-riding--his brand while he was working with the prussian rebels. what’s more, he’s learned from the best: the inimitable wallace kassai, @hisvanity​, the greatest coordinator who has ever lived, was a childhood family friend and mentor to him, and his grandfather, ezra mendelssohn, earned a great claim to fame in the 20th century as the pretty boy who dominated cool and tough contests with his quickdraw. as a result, he’s got quite a few educated opinions on what coordinating should be……and oh my god, he will die for all of them.

as a judge, he’s intelligent and insightful, but brutally honest to the point of being rude. while most of his observations are artistically sound and logically correct, he tends to say it in a manner not unlike simon cowell. having been raised with such high standards when it comes to coordinating, he also tends to dock more than he should for any particular offense. he’s as sharp as wallace with his observations, and more than twice as bitchy. be warned.

LIKES.

tobias is an educated man of many different tastes, who can appreciate the beauty of art in all its forms. he’s not near as picky as ursula when it comes to what he finds “beautiful” or “appealing”; all he wants is that whatever you do, you commit your heart and soul to it 110% and you do it well. a dainty ballet routine can earn the same score from him as a motorcycle stunt performance set to death metal. he’s looking for aesthetically appealing performances that involve nuanced details and complex technique; how you achieve this is no concern to him as long as you achieve it.

i should note that for him, “aesthetically appealing” has a broader range than it does for ursula. he is able to appreciate the strange, the avant-garde, even the grotesque, in a way that the head judge can’t. whereas she’ll balk at a dada-inspired routine, he’ll probably be all over it!

unlike ursula, who hates being preached at, he also prefers appeals that have a broader message or statement. whereas ursula with her little brainpower loathes appeals whose stories and messages are too hard to understand, tobias can fully appreciate and give points for such feats. he also has a major soft spot for satire, especially satire directed at unjust authority figures--or at his fellow judges!

like his mother, he also likes out-of-the-box, creative performances that break conventional stereotypes and roles. after all, his grandfather ezra was told that he was too “pretty” to ever make it big in the cool and tough categories, but that ended the moment people realized he was a wwii vet who brought his gun-shooting talents onstage! wallace’s influence certainly helped in this department--he’s had an aversion of coordinating and showcasing clichés hammered into him since childhood. some of the things that count as unconventional for him include but are not limited to:

gender noncomformity.

ugly or undesirable-looking pokémon such as garbodor, mr. rime or skuntank.

tough-looking pokémon showing a more elegant, graceful and tender side, or vice versa.

showing a side of a pokémon’s species that is not otherwise explored (e.g. milotic may be very beautiful and graceful but it is also a dragon, and wallace is one of the few people who portray it as such).

pokémon and people expressing contradicting qualities at once (fierce yet soft, cute yet dangerous) gives performances a unique flavor and complexity.

portraying contrasting themes within your appeal. 

did we mention he’s educated? he loves references to nerd shit. like poetry, or history, or mythology……he’ll understand every single nerdy little reference that a cerebral appeal has to offer, and it’s guaranteed to make his intellectual heart light up with delight.

as a brown indigenous jew, he also loves appeals that show peoples’ culture! the type of routines he’s best at are steeped in draconid cultural tradition, so he’ll always have a soft spot for those who share their heritage with pride.

lastly, given that he’s a red-blooded risk-taker, he loves daring stunts. after all, dragon-riding shows are built on them!

DISLIKES.

from the above, it’s clear that he likes appeals that put a lot of thought into them. as such, he hates appeals that he feels are low-effort, whether physically or intellectually. if your technique or your visuals or the way you convey your message are too simplistic, you’re not getting a good score, no matter how dazzling you pretend to be. he is sharply critical in this regard, and will incisively see through layers of shine to any inadequacy underneath. his standard for sophistication is so high that you’ll have to jump higher than you ever have to reach it.

he also hates inauthentic and soulless appeals. he’s very good at seeing when someone actually means the stuff they put in their performances, as opposed to whether they’re just pandering to his tastes. he would actually prefer a cliché appeal that the creator is genuinely invested in to an unorthodox appeal where the performer is just trying to check boxes of unconventionality to impress him. (you’d probably never be able to guess it though, with how harshly he can rain down criticism on the cliché!)

he also has a certain distaste for appeals that use only the most standard contest/showcase pokémon. whereas ursula can quickly lose interest in an appeal that doesn’t have the standard milotics and gardevoirs plastered all over it, he regards people who rely too heavily on the conventionally pretty and popular with severe distaste. given that his mentor is wallace, he has a special aversion toward milotic, who wallace himself is SICK and TIRED of seeing in contests. it’s not that he’ll automatically hate performances with these pokémon. it’s more that if you do use these pokémon, you’ll have to work extra hard to seem unique.

as a draconid, he’s also incredibly picky with how people use dragon pokémon in appeals. if you thought he hated established tropes and conventions already, he has an anti-special place in his heart for those who default to common themes with their dragon pokémon. he has buckets and buckets of salt to pour about how dragons are overused, how their trainers lazily use them for instant intimidation, how trainers collect dragons not out of appreciation but to take advantage of the legendary power that accompanies them……and if you don’t present your dragons well, he won’t hesitate to accuse you of any number of these things. particularly, he loathes seeing dragons depicted as the villains in a story performance, unless there’s a dragon hero character to cancel it out. given the fact that “dragons = villains” has been used to demonize his european draconid ancestors for so long, if you invoke this trope in any way, he’ll borderline call you a racist.

[ducktracy]

137. i love to singa (1936)

release date: july 18th, 1936

series: merrie melodies

director: tex avery

starring: tommy bond (owl jolson), billy bletcher (fritz owl, penguin), martha wentworth (mama), bernice hansen (fat chicken), joe dougherty (stuttering bird), tedd pierce (jack bunny)

a certified classic that almost everyone has either seen or at least heard of, and for good reason! tedd pierce, writer for mckimson, freleng, and jones, as well as inspiration for pepé le pew, makes his vocal debut as the voice of jack bunny (a very obvious take on radio show entertainer jack benny, who’d be parodied as jack bunny in a handful of cartoons such as slap happy pappy and goofy groceries.) the father owl was originally going to be voiced by bert lahr, who you may recognize as the cowardly lion from the wizard of oz, but was changed to bletcher instead. a parody of the al jolson movie the jazz singer, little owl jolson is born into a musical family that forbids any jazz. kicked out for breaking the strict family rule, owl finds solace in jack bunny’s radio show, where his talents shine—much to the bewilderment of his parents.

pan into a lovely shot of a quaint little home in a tree trunk, trees creating a framing in the foreground as butterflies flit along. a serene home that can do no wrong. a sign in the shape of a violin is posted just above the door: prof. FRITZ OWL teacher of “VOICE, PIANO, & VIOLIN” BUT— pan down to a sign below it, painted in all red letters: NO JAZZ!

tex playful as ever with his transitions as we peer through the keyhole of the door. professor fritz (not friz!) owl himself paces nervously in front of his wife, nesting on eggs while observing her anxious husband. the underscore is a fitting medley of solfeggios. fritz approaches his wife solemnly, who stands up and checks to see if her eggs have hatched yet. nothing but a sympathetic shake of the head.

time lapses, as we see from the rug below fritz’s feet. he’s paced so much that he’s worn it into the ground and then some—tex liked to play around with simple time lapses, a changing background the only indicator of passing time while the animation itself stays the same. once more, fritz returns to his wife. this time, we hear faint knocking. they both observe, and his wife is now beaming and nodding expectantly. the big moment at last! she crawls out of her nest, and fritz takes a conductor’s wand, tapping each egg gently. each makes a strong, reverberating ring of a bell. music to his ears... save for the last one, who creates a jangly dissonant sound instead. fritz and his wife exchange bewildered looks, fritz tapping on the egg again for confirmation. still a dud. very clever use of sound effects by treg brown.

before fritz can mull on his dud for too long, the first egg hatches. a mini owl version of himself dons a sharp suit, singing a beautiful rendition of “chi mi frena in tal momento” from the opera lucia di lammermoor. fritz is absolutely delighted, cooing “ah, what a fine voice! a caruso!” (of course referring to italian tenor enrico caruso) the next egg is set to hatch, this time the owl playing robert schumann’s “traumerei” on violin. he too is met with praise: “what sweet music, a fritz kreisler!” third egg hatches, the owl touting a flute and playing felix mendelssohn’s “spring song”, fritz appropriately commenting “a lovely melody, a mendelssohn.”

and, of course, the final egg. wonderful incongruity and juxtaposition as owl jolson pops out of the egg, blaring red suit and all, informally greeting “hullo, strenza!” “hello, strenza!” was a popular catchphrase at the time and yiddishism for “hello, stranger!”, originated from jack benny’s character schlepperman. appropriate considering jack bunny serves as an important character in the cartoon. owl thusly launches into the eponymous “i love to singa”, written by harold arlen and e. y. harburg (who both worked on the music for the wizard of oz) and featured thrice in 1936’s the singing kid. criminally catchy and a lethal earworm to all... except father fritz.

“ach, a jazz singer! a CROONER! stop! STOP! STOP!!!” fritz is horrified, tearing his feathers out in agony, only pausing to catch his wife, struck unconscious from the horrible thought of her child becoming the next bing crosby. fritz fans her awake, desperately reassuring “listen mama, if he must sing, we will teach him to sing like we want him to.” a sensible plan, right?

apparently not. owl is desperately uncomfortable and unhappy as he begrudgingly sings “drink to me only with thine eyes”, his mother oblivious to his plight as she accompanies him on piano. she pauses to turn the page, and owl gives a quick, hurried, whispered rendition of “i love to singa” behind her back. haven’t we all done that before? personality is very strong in this cartoon, and that’s what sells it, even more than the song itself. mama resumes her playing, and owl resumes his torture session. fritz walks in the doorway to admire his converted son, beaming. owl is unaware of his father’s presence, and as his mother pauses to turn the page he sings some more jazz, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

bob clampett animates fritz kicking owl out of the house, groveling “enough, it’s too much! out of my house, you hotcha, you crooner! you falsetto! you jazz singer! you... you...YOU..!” fritz is red-faced, sputtering and struggling desperately to find the perfect insult. instead, he opts for slamming the door shut. a pause. he opens it back up and quips “PHOOEY!” before slamming it back shut. perfect comedic timing for a gag that will be used in many a cartoon.

owl is frustrated at first, sardonically introducing to the camera “that’s mein pop.” nevertheless, his mood changes in an instant as he realizes he’s free to sing all the jazz he wants. he strolls along, happily singing his favorite song. a much happier scene than indoors, where mama tearfully suggests that fritz was being “a bit too hasty.” back outside, where owl is strolling along gaily as ever, whistling all the way. there’s a beautiful pan with trees and scenery overlaying in the foreground. you get the sense that everything is going to be just fine, that the world is worth singing about. a very positive and upbeat yet subtle scene. inside once more, where mama calls the police in tears to search for her missing child.

the happy go lucky expedition of owl jolson is put to a halt when he hears a harmonica. it’s coming from a building with a line in front of it: RADIO STATION G-O-N-G. below it: AUDITIONS TODAY. various people are given the boot, the telltale gong sounding as they’re plummeted down a slide and out into the cruel world. owl is enticed, and hurries to join the line.

a few animals perform their failed auditions: a few birds on a flute and saxophone each, another on the accordion, a penguin singing “laugh, clown, laugh” (which daffy would sing in both yankee doodle daffy and duck soup to nuts, both freleng cartoons), a fat chicken singing “i’m forever blowing bubbles” (which was featured in sinkin’ in the bathtub! shows you how far we’ve come)... all of the potential candidates get gonged by a caricature of jack benny (jack BUNNY), and they’re all sent plummeting through a bottomless chute. the fat chicken is so plump that she gets stuck in the chute, and bunny has to give her an extra thwack on the head to get her to go down. very amusing timing.

back at home, mama and fritz are both listening to the radio for an update on their son. mama exclaims tearfully, “i wonder if they found my little boy...” and in a bit of tex avery genius, the radio announcer answers in a deadpan voice “no we didn’t, lady.” a staple that would be used in many a cartoon!

at the radio station, joe dougherty voices a hayseed, stuttering bird with an overbite (a parallel to his role as a hayseed, stuttering dog with an overbite in into your dance) struggling to recount the tongue twister of simple simon. after awhile, the bird gets tired of his OWN act, muttering “oh well, shucks.” and hitting the gong himself and tugging on the rope that would send him into oblivion. elsewhere, a bird reads a telegram out loud, delivered by the telegram boy. she pronounces each “stop” (as i mentioned in my last review, since there is no morse code equivalent to a period, telegrams would use “stop” instead), and we pan over to owl jolson and jack bunny. however, the bird continues to read each stop, growing louder and louder, and we pan back over to see the telegram boy repeatedly attempting to hug her while she keeps shouting “stop!” ain’t sexual harassment funny??? in terms of technicality, it’s a very well structured gag, but is in poor taste and doesn’t feel as funny as it should.

nevertheless, jack bunny asks “well, what’s your name, son?” owl eagerly hands him his very own card, proudly displaying the words “owl jolson” in red ink. he gives a happy salute, and thus formally starts the musical number. it’s been rumored that singer johnnie davis provided the singing voice, but i don’t think that’s true. it still sounds like bond to me, and even when i heard him singing in my green fedora as peter i knew he voiced owl jolson right away, connecting it back to this scene. i could be wrong! but i doubt they hired a separate person for singing. nevertheless, as i’ve repeatedly mentioned, the song is criminally catchy and the animation is cute and fun. bunny is immediately impressed, his defensive glower melting into a gleeful grin.

mama catches wind of her own son back at home, hearing his voice singing on the radio. once more, bob clampett animates mama dragging her entire family outside, happily declaring “it’s him at the radio station!” owl has clearly won bunny’s heart, already displaying the hearty first prize trophy on his desk while he dances along ecstatically to the music.

at long last, the owl family arrives at the station, and they can hardly believe it. everyone crowds around the window outside, peering inside with awestruck disbelief. just as owl as surely clinched the award, he catches a glance of his family and freezes up immediately. now terrified and fearing the worst, he reverts back to his nasally rendition of “drink to me only with thine own eyes”. bunny can’t believe it, even pausing to take his cigar out in disbelief as he ogles at his star pupil. he shoves aside the first prize trophy, ready to pounce.

thankfully, the owl family notices this and they all rush inside. just as bunny is about to call it a day, raising the faithful hammer, fritz cries “STOP! STOP! STOP!!!” he rushes to his previously disavowed son, once more repeating “enough, it’s too much!” but in an entirely different context. a very clever parallel. slowly he attempts to coerce owl back into his song, urging him that it’s okay. “you want to singa! about your moon-a and your june-a and your spring-a, go on and singa!”

hesitant at first, owl picks up his rendition, and in no time things are back to normal. a relieved and ecstatic jack bunny snags the first prize trophy and hands it to owl, shaking his hand. a very endearing, happy, ultimately feel good scene as the entire owl family dances behind their star, the entire family giving one last chorus of “we love to sing!” iris out... leaving the first prize trophy on the black screen. owl pries the iris open and collects his prize, irising out for good (a gag that would be recycled in another avery cartoon, porky’s garden, though porky angrily pries his cash prize away from the clutches of a greedy gardener instead).

a lot to unpack, but all you need to know: a great short that is absolutely worth the watch. if you haven’t seen it already, watch it! if you have, watch it again! one of those cartoons that everyone knows or has at least heard of. do i think this is tex’s best cartoon? probably not. but i DO think this is a major turning point for warner bros. tex saved the studio by shunning the disney attitude instead of adopting it, and this cartoon reflects that. a strong, solid plot with amusing gags (such as the radio bit) would eventually become the norm for the upcoming cartoons. the songs were really beginning to be put on the back burner, and eventually dropped altogether—i don’t have an official date for the last merrie melody to feature a song, but probably anywhere from 1938 to 1939.

i argue that the success of this cartoon lies in the personality moreso than the song. absolutely the song is a big contributor. very catchy, fun to sing, and one that everyone knows. but i don’t think the cartoon is great just BECAUSE of the song. many of the merrie melodies have a lot of great songs, but have faded into obscurity because of weak plots or personality. when was the last time you saw someone lauding harman and ising’s we’re in the money? a very popular song no doubt, but it isn’t held to the same candle as i love to singa because the personality is so staunch. no memorable characters or emotions or motivations or what have you.

all of the personalities are strong, subtle or not. owl has a strong personality, even though 90% of his dialogue is singing. where he begrudgingly sings “drink to me only with thine eyes”, glaring and moping, kicking his feet or making mocking expressions, pausing to give a few breathless verses of “i love to singa”... strong personality. fritz owl has a very strong personality, if not overbearing. 10 seconds into the cartoon and you already know he hates jazz, holding so much contempt for it that he has a sign outside of his house to advertise it. the mother another strong figure, caring deeply for her son and even calling the police to get her son back. even jack bunny, who only says one line in the entire cartoon. it’s obvious he’s fed up with listening to the same old amateur hour acts, and his genuine glee at the freshness of owl’s act feels real and relatable. pair all this with a catchy song and you have yourself a deal.

i think, at the same time, this follows the formula of a lot of tex’s merrie melodies at the time, and i suppose it may be just a bit (for lack of a better term) overrated. not in a bad way, but it isn’t STAUNCHLY different from other merrie melodies tex has been pumping out. but with that said, it’s still a classic and a great short that you certainly need to watch. it’s definitely a spirit raiser.

link!

[prettyboyhere]

Familiar Melody

An original work, but inspired by A.G Wells’ deeply haunting, “Chanson Triste”

@flashfictionfridayofficial​ , thank you for this lovely prompt!

(556 words)

#

Mama had hoped to make a pianist out of me, but she wasn’t an ambitious woman; she appreciated beauty. She wanted me good enough to play Mendelssohn and Tchaikovsky for her, but not good enough to leave her too soon.

When I was fifteen, I stumbled across a tune that would haunt me like a melancholic ghost. After I played Chanson Triste for the first time, mama said to me as she leaned on the instrument, “There’s something in Tchaikovsky’s music that becomes you. For your sake, I hope it ends there. He lived a sad life, and I would not wish that on my boy.”

To her misfortune, the world was thrown into war, and any boy with spirit had the honour to serve his king.

I’m sorry, mama, I thought after the first day I killed men. I felt then that Tchaikovsky’s music would no longer become me, but I would become it: composed of motifs that individually appear brave and expressive, but put us together, and we can easily become a melody that sounds like a lost love, an unexpected betrayal, a tainted success.

A quiet boy, I had distant friends and I didn’t make much of a suitor. Nobody, but my family waiting for me to come back whole. All I wanted was to go home and see if playing my piano could fix me, that maybe if I could still play, then I was still human, not a king’s soldier. That piano had seen me as a boy; if it still sounded the same, then maybe that boy still existed. The thought of being able to redeem myself kept me alive. It made me able to laugh in the trenches and defend my country.

Then one day, some men signed some papers and decided enough lives were taken and enough money spent– any soldier could have told them that after the first year – so, there would be peace again.

I was young when the war began, too young to even have my own residence. When I returned home, mama and her sisters greeted me at the door, and they were startled by the face of the young boy who played Tchaikovsky, with the eyes of the already dead.

I said what words seemed polite until everyone stood back and left me in front of the piano; not a single breath dared to disturb the silence in the room.

We could all play an instrument, so it was doubtful they had missed music in the house. I took the silence that they had missed their little boy, and were contemplating whether it was the time to mourn him.

I almost felt apart in the first bar of ‘Chanson Triste’, but I had waited too long for a ringing piece of metal that didn’t mean death.

Music poured out of me, familiar and human.

These hands could still make something.

The sforzando of shells making men and dirt equal is a song that I will never forget. The staccato stutter of bullets will be heard in my heartbeat. I will wake up to the wretched sounds of men dying, only to realise that I am alone in my bed and I am the one scraping out those murderous nocturnes.

Perhaps, the deafening drums of war could live alongside Tchaikovsky. Perhaps I will live alongside them, too.