#old school british death metal

[aeternae--tenebrae]

Benediction - Subconscious Terror [Full Album]

[astrobiscuits]

Unknown asteroids #2

@m1nd-r0t here is part 2, enjoyyy!!

🌷Elodie (10726) – French form of Elodia, which has a Spanish origin; means “foreign riches” as in old money/inheritances, denoting the nature of both Capricorn and Scorpio; if prominent in composite, it can indicate a couple that becomes rich together under mysterious circumstances

🌷Epicles (23549) – of Greek origin; denotes an Ancient Greek medical writer who lived in 1st or 2nd century BC; prominent in medical staff and medicine students

🌷Epimetheus (1810) – of Greek origin; denotes the Titan god of afterthought and excuses; it shows which area we tend to come up with excuses (if it aspects Mars – excuses as to why we can’t start something, why we don't exercise; if it aspects Venus – excuses as to why we can’t get in a relationship, why we’re unlovable)

🌷Epikourus (5954) – of Greek origin; denotes an Ancient Greek philosopher, who founded a renowned philosophy school centered around Epicureanism; prominent in philosophers and those who think deeply

🌷Ercol (155784) – of British orign; denotes a British furniture manufacture; prominent in the charts of successful interior designers, usually by sextile or trine

🌷Fado (541741) – of Portugese origin; denotes a type of Portugese folk music which centers around death, mourning and loss; based on my research, it does show up in the charts of metalheads who are into doom metal (this asteroid usually aspects their moon), but not in the charts of goths

🌷FAIR (204873) – of English origin; well, it’s self-explanatory

🌷Fairbank (67235) – of English origin; denotes someone who gets charity money for the right cause/someone who easily attracts scolarships and sponsorships

🌷Fiammetta (50729) – of Italian origin; means “little fiery one”; denotes someone who becomes cute when angry; in the charts of very spiritual/religious people, it can show the faith that burns inside and guides them

🌷Huma (3988) – of Persian origin; denotes a bird similar to the phoenix, which is supposed to bring luck and fortune; luck that comes after a transformation

🌷Hus (1840) – of Swedish origin; means house; in synastry, if there’s double whammy aspects (person A’s Hus aspects person B’s Hus and vice versa), it’s very possible that you might live together

🌷Icke (7508) – of (old) Swedish origin; means nobody, no one; if it conjuncts Sun, it indicates a loner or someone who isn’t taken into consideration by others; a second meaning: what we find disgusting

🌷Ida (243) – of Greek and German origins; means industrious, laborious, hardworking

🌷Indulgentia (90703) – of Latin origin; means lenience, concession; in synastry, it denotes someone prone to give a second chance to their ex; if this asteroid squares the other person’s Venus and the Venus person cheats on the Indulgentia asteroid person, the asteroid person is very likely to forgive them and continue the relationship

🌷Isolda (211) – of Welsh and German origin; means “she who is gazed at”; denotes a woman who attracts the attention of both men and women due to her beauty; if it conjuncts MC, it can point out to a career as a model

🌷Jaffe (9696) – of Hebrew origin; means beautiful, pleasant

🌷Jamila (1843) – of Arabic origin; same meaning as asteroid Jaffe

🌷Lioba (974) – of German origin; means dear, beloved one

🌷Lippens (9640) – of Scottish origin; means trust, to rely on someone; a second meaning: lips

🌷Lipschutz (2641) – of German origin; means lip protection (it might be prominent in those who use lip balm frequently); in synastry, it denotes a thoughtful, caring lover, who kisses softly

🌷Meesters (10647) – of Dutch origin, means master (of something), boss

🌷Megaira (464) – of Greek origin; she is one of the 3 Furies/Erinyes in Greek mythology; denotes jealousy and envy, similar to Klythia (73) and Irsha (216451)

🌷Meiden (2881) – of German origin; mean to avoid, to shun

🌷Vieuxtemps (40007) – of French origin; means “old times”, but it can also show nostalgia; in synastry, it can show connections that last decades; the friends and lover/spouse we will have during seniorhood

🌷Vetter (18377) – of German origin; means cousin

(10726, 23549, 1810, 5954, 155784, 541741, 204873, 67235, 50729, 3988, 1840, 7508, 243, 90703, 211, 9696, 1843, 974, 9640, 2641, 10647, 464, 2881, 40007, 18377)

[cerise-grenadine]

so, when @dearestdo3 posted her lovely Pokémon drawing, it made me want to sketch my old team too! well, i should say teamS because i couldn’t choose in the end 😩

so here’s the roundup: (it’s more of what team would represent him rather than who he’d pick of course 🤭) (and it's my AU!Snape so no Lily or does involved)

Young angry Death Eater Sev.

Corvisquire — his patronus is a raven, and although at this age he wouldn’t be able to cast one, i still had to include one bc it represents him quite well. (not too fond of other raven Pokémon, i hesitated with Corviknight but find him too sturdy/metal-looking)

Seviper — he obviously needs a snake Pokémon. not my fave snake design but i usually pick this one for two reasons: can’t ignore that he’s called SEViper, and i like that he is canonically Zangoose’s rival who reminds me of McGonagall/Gryffindor :D

Alolan Marowak — this Sev has traumatic mommy issues so Cubone is a nice pick, and the sinister witchy Ghost evolution is 👌🏻 (tried to draw him in an agressive action pose and failed miserably alas, so he’s just waiting ominously)

Duskull — i had to pick at least one Death Eater Pokémon, so the death mark one it is.

Absol — he’s just there for the gloomy emo vibe 🤌🏻

Crobat — well. he’s a BAT. a COOL BAT.

thought about drawing a Voldie-Serperior in the background and then got lazy so please imagine he's there 😌

Chiller adult Sev. pissed off by his work and moldy voldy coming back, but overall has been working on his issues and is much more in control of himself. healthier habits and hobbies.

Seviper & Corvisquire are still there bc they’re very representative of him

Gloom — i wanted a poison Pokémon for potion reasons. Gloom and her oozing seemed an interesting pick — especially since i accidently gave his gf a Bellossom

Hatterene — she’s so witchy and so gender ✨i felt she was not unlike his adult self, solitary, a bit sinister, magical and graceful.

Umbreon — he’s here for the emo vibes but chiller than Absol

Sinistea — magical tea for the magic British school. again chill vibes but also a little bit dark — fits Sev.

Muireann. what can i say, she’s all fluff and love and music

Blissey — she’s nurturing, she’s caring, she’s wholesome.

Vulpix — she’s also young and fiery

Gourgeist — Gourgeist is a redhead jack-o-lantern, and in French she’s named after banshees, so she made sense in the team of an Irish witch.

Wooloo — a wee happy lamb! also they have the same hairdo.

Bellossom & Meloetta are both here for musical reasons: Muireann is a dancer and singer and music is one of the most important things in her life — she’d have musical Pokémon.

[niuniente]

11, 28, 33 & 34

11. do you listen to anything while drawing? Always! Podcasts, paranormal encounters, online radios, history documents, pick-a-card readings, lectures, music of all sorts. I can't draw without music because my mind starts to wander too much.

Some of the channels I listen to: The Why Files (investigating journalism, very thorough in either debunking or confirming their topics with scientific facts. Updates weekly) Beyond with Heater Tesch (NDE interview channel) Weird World (all sorts of paranormal experiences) Absolute History (British history channel) Darkness Prevails (Paranormal experiences) NightmareOwl Music (non-stop dark cyberpunk music. A great channel for discovering smaller artists) Aim to Head Mix (dark techno, dark trance) Scandroid (new retro wave and cyberpunk) Outside of channels, I listen to music from punk to 80's, big band jazz to new retro wave, eurodisco to brutal death metal. Genre doesn't matter. If I like the song I like the song :3

28. whats a piece you would like to redraw at some point?

I wasn't very deep into Homestuck, I read it maybe 9 months really long time ago (2009 perhaps? I remember that the arc of Ancestors was a new one back then). However, Karkat was a delight, he still is for what little I know about him. I made some art and doodles of Salamander Apocalypse with Karkat and Jade and it's been so long since the originals I would probably want to redraw some of those.

Original here from 2014

33. have you taken a lot of classes for art? No, I'm self taught. Been drawing since I was able to hold a pen. Apparently, the skill runs in a family on both parents' side. I did go to an art school for 2 years because I wanted to learn how to color but look at me returning back to black and white art lol.

This art piece is from 2003, before the art school.

34. whats something you still like from your old art? The above pic :3

As you can see, my art style has gotten "worse" from how it used to be but it's fine with me. I'm not interested in quality that much as I am interested in telling stories and having fun.

[fatehbaz]

“The freedom to piss on the cement of Empire [...].”

---

The dry semi-desert that is South Africa’s Karoo began as an ice cap on the supercontinent Pangea [...]. The Karoo ice cap was kilometers deep and peaked between 359 and 299 million years ago. [...] Another hundred million years after Pangea split [...], the Karoo became home and then graveyard to dinosaurs of the Jurassic Era [...]. [V]olcanic extrusions and kimberlite pipes threw skywards the purest form of carbon: diamonds. [...] 

The discovery of diamond-bearing rock in the northern Karoo in 1869 propelled the [British] Empire into inventing new aspects of the technosphere, in which metal mining structures, wooden beams, steam engines, long guns, and the [...] [bodies] of migrant laborers were employed to reconnect the volcanic residues of the Late Cretaceous with the economic and political landscapes of South Africa and Britain. [...] Profits from the sale of Late Cretaceous diamonds from ninety-one million years ago fed the formation of cities, corporations, and institutions in England and her Cape. [...] [T]he entrepreneur Cecil John Rhodes amassed a personal fortune from the diamond rush, taking control by means fair and foul of claims around the Big Hole of Kimberley, where the largest kimberlite volcanic pipe extrudes. Appointed prime minister of the Cape Colony in 1890, Rhodes set about establishing a legal infrastructure that favored mining and a social infrastructure that established race-based disenfranchisement, creating a class of black laborers who would serve the emerging white-owned mining houses. [...] In the 1900s, the Carboniferous Era from around three hundred million years ago entered South African politics via South African’s coal-fired power stations. In the 1960s, the newly independent Republic of South Africa [...] sought energy autonomy in order to pursue formal policies of race-based segregation, and commissioned geological surveys for coal, oil, and uranium. [...]

---

“Colonization=‘thingification’” wrote the postcolonial philosopher Aime Cesaire.

For Cecil John Rhodes, nature was a spectacle that could be kept in a zoo; the university was a project to be “funded from the stomachs of k*firs”; migrant laborers in the diamond mines were required to wait two weeks before leaving, while the contents of their colons were collected and painstakingly searched for ingested gems. Under colonial regimes of extraction of labor and minerals, Africa became a laboratory for the necropolitical: relations of life for relationships of ownership and death. [...] 

His estate set up the University of Cape Town and his statue was erected in 1934: a two-ton bronze effigy of the man set on a concrete plinth in a pose that calls to mind Rodin’s The Thinker. In the view of the statue’s gaze there was Rhodes Highway, Rhodes Drive, Rhodes High School; to the statue's right was Rhodes Memorial, and to its left his zoo; on the far side of the old Cape Colony would be built Rhodes University.

Memorialized thus as the archetypal Reasonable Man, the aura of his realism must have been surreal to those who had suffered under his rule. [...]

---

[I]n 2015, academics, students [...] in and alongside the University of Cape Town found themselves confronting a performance of the execrable on March 9, 2015, when [a] student [...] threw excrement -- nightsoil from a shack settlement -- over Rhodes’s statue to call for the university’s decolonization. Rhodes’s statue was removed on a flat-bed truck exactly one month later [...]. His two tons of bronze dangled briefly from a crane, severed from its concrete plinth, then was carted off for safekeeping in an undisclosed location. [...]

Geologies of morals and morals of geology: the Karoo Ice Age, frozen and global, and Rhodes’s Karoo Age, an era of extractive economy that sacrificed life and created sacrifice zones. One lasted a hundred million years, the other a hundred and fifty. Both changed the relations between geology and life. [...]

---

Amid the Rhodes statue’s formal removal on April 9, 2015, a construction worker -- a deconstruction worker, really -- took a moment to piss and loudly announce he was doing so on the stairs leading up to Rhodes. It was his own moment in a month-long protest beginning with the shit-throwing. A moment to seize the possibility of vulgarity that breaks the lines of authority, the fountain of piss flagrantly rejoins the flow of water through all bodies and all spheres.

The freedom to piss on the cement of Empire asserts that the body of the construction worker and the body of the shack-dweller inhabit the same earth as the Empire, and that cement, ultimately, is a political subject. As is diamond-bearing kimberlite, and gas-bearing shale. [...]

Colonization made predatory claims on the earth’s geological flows and processes without regard to the reciprocities through which they were formed in the earth’s spheres.

---

Text by: Lesley Green. “The Changing of the Gods of Reason: Cecil John Rhodes, Karoo Fracking, and the Decolonizing of the Anthropocene.” e-flux Journal Issue #65. May 2015. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[literallymechanical]

Hi. Please write the solarpunk dystopia book. I’d read that in a heartbeat. However, if you don’t have the time, could I bother you for some book recommendations?? I’ve been on a sci-fi space semi-body horror alien kick (children of time, children of ruin, to sleep in a sea of stars) and I’m needing a new one to sink my teeth into. I think I’d like to move a little closer to the horror genera without reading an actual horror book, but anything dystopian, sci-fi, and plant/space/alien related would be cool! Any thoughts?

Space horror isn't my usual genre, nor is horror in general, but here are a few that come close. It can be hard to judge where the line sits between "horror" and "horror-adjacent," so I'm going to err on the side of just recommending a few horrifying things I've enjoyed:

Roadside Picnic, by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky, 1972. Old-school soviet scifi alien horror, and the inspiration for an entire genre of fiction – "people go and explore a Weird Zone where reality is borked and bad things happen." Stalker is a direct homage, the Southern Reach trilogy, etc. I read a translation by Antonia Bouis.

The Laundry Files, by Charles Stross, 2004 – present. This one is a longer series, the first book is the Atrocity Archives. A very modern twist on Lovecraft — bureaucratic horror. The "Laundry" is the unofficial name for the British secret service that handles the occult. Necromancy is a field of theoretical computer science pioneered by Alan Turing, and you can summon Nyarlathotep with a well-crafted raytracing algorithm. The protagonist is the department IT guy, Bob Oliver Francis Howard. If you get the pun in the name you're older than me. Later books deal with the occult implications of Brexit.

There Is No Antimemetics Division, by qntm, 2020. Originally published as a serial on the SCP Wiki, later re-edited and compiled it into a standalone novel. Requires no prior knowledge of the SCP Foundation to enjoy. This is the cosmic horror that Lovecraft wishes he could have written. Can be read for free on the SCP Wiki, but I recommend buying a copy to support the author. Bonkers amazing, pedal-to-the-metal, goes from "quirky high-concept scifi" to "oh god what are they going to do to him with that chisel" real fast.

American Elsewhere, by Robert Jackson Bennet, 2013. It's a bit obscure and might be harder to find, but it's one of the best books I've read in years. Scifi horror-thriller that gets both splashily cosmic and laser-tight. Our protagonist comes to a small town in New Mexico that doesn't appear on any maps to find closure after her abusive father's death, and gets tangled up in horrifying secrets. Nasty, achingly heartbreaking, grand, and takes its time in the most delicious way. The author writes mediocre YA fantasy now, and that's a damn shame.

John Dies At The End (and its sequels), by David Wong, 2007 – 2022. Comedy-horror about shitty paranormal investigators. The comedy is genuinely hilarious and the horror is genuinely horrifying – closer to the cosmic- than body-horror, though it does get up-close and personal. One of the few comedy-horror stories I've read that convincingly pulls off both.

Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story, by Christopher Moore, 1995. A raunchy vampire story, set against the sobering backdrop of the AIDS epidemic in San Francisco. I have no idea if this actually counts as horror but I think more people should read Christopher Moore. The tonal whiplash between goofy vampire sex, night-shift convenience store workers bowling with frozen turkeys in the aisles, and the trauma of young men dying from love and dirty needles, is expertly crafted.

I could keep going but this list is already getting a bit long. Hey followers et al., you should add more recommendations, especially ones that are actual space horror!

[sendmyresignation]

hii if u don't mind, any metal bands you'd recommend for someone wanting to get into slightly more obscure stuff but doesn't know where to start digging? any subgenre/time period idc. asking u this bc i trust ur knowledge

i truly truly love getting asks like this, thank you for trusting me and it's awesome to hear you want to dig deeper!!

it's hard for me to give specific recs because i don't know what you've vibed with so ill meet you half way and give you a list as well as some places to learn more just in case i end up in the wrong direction.

these are some bands that clicked for me when i was first exploring outside my comfort zone, as well as some stuff from my aoty from the last few years:

Possessed - Seven Churches; this one is the least obscure but i feel like possessed are easy to miss. important band bridging the gap between thrash and death metal. love crazy maniac shit like this

Satan- Court in the Act; classic new wave of british heavy metal with a bit of edit. type of band that had enormous pull in underground power and speed metal scenes- this is a blueprint for a lot of great obscure heavy metal with the soaring vocals and the tappy solos. i love chastain (american, mid/late 80s response) if you want to see that lineage in effect

Mystifier - Goetia; brazilian metal is a huge huge historically important metal phenomenon. sepultura are more well-known and sarcofago are cult classic black metal pioneers (seriously, inri is one of the greats) but mystifier is a band that opened up the scene for me a little more and is incredible in their own right

Autopsy - Metal Funeral; slow, gripping death metal carnage!! also one of the few legacy bands continuing to release actual good music which is fun. also, if you like the autopsy you'll love derketa, dream death, mythic, winter, all of whom make their own twist on a similar crushing brand of doomy death metal goodness

Sabbat- Envenom; long-running old-school japanese black metal. has that thrashy-punk first wave flavor along the lines of celtic frost, root, bulldozer (also sarcofago) and sodom at their most brutal.

Sacrilege- Behind the Realms of Madness; crusty thrash that had a huge influence on early bolt thrower. good if you're into punk already and want more of that in the metal (their later records lose the crust but gain doom- I almost like them more. killer band)

Vastum. any of their records seriously maybe the best active band on the planet rn.

Warning- Watching from a Distance; if you got to metal through my mcr blog then i think you can handle the whiny vocals on this and get a legit transformative experience out of Warning. seriously love this album, delightfully heavy doom in an emotional package. and doom is easy to rec, satisfying and not to extreme: Pentagram, Candlemass, Trouble, and Saint Vitus are all must must listens

Chevalier- Destiny Calls; combination of speed and power i really love in the classic heavy metal fantasy and knights vein. newer band too with a lot of similar listening to bigger bands in that scene. and if you like this style at all manilla road (the band) is a requirement if you aren't already familar

Some eclectic newer stuff I've enjoyed lately: Vicious Blade, Tyrann, Reverend Bizarre, Nekromantheon, Firmament, Svalbard, Vampirska, Ares Kingdom, Messa

but i really recommend checking out r/metal- their essentials is good for a beginner but they also have a ton of primers that can give you overviews of niche genres. the fenriz metal spotify playlist is also fuckin killer. For new music, look into reviews from sites like angrymetalguy, no clean singing, heavy blog is heavy, invisible oranges. helpful to know how your taste aligns with the writing staff (like i know if angrymetalguy dislikes something, im almost guaranteed to like it). shreddit has a release tracker on spotify; there's also a constant update of new releases on the metal archive!

[medieval-elephants]

Riddle me this: "‘As armoured troops and soldiers pack in tight (Wretches who with vain lust incite a fight While arms taint sacred civil loyalties), A trumpet sucks in air with bursts of breeze And raucous, clanging battle horns resound; Fierce, bold, I’ve come to know their savage sound. Although God made me ugly at my start, I picked up gifts of life once I debuted. Behold! Death sneaks up on my pulchritude As doom is snaking through each helpless part. I can’t be beaten by fine sheets of gold, Although the precious polished metal’s decked With gleaming gems and stylish luxuries. Nature won’t let me kneel when I feel old Or rest my eyelids while on bended knees. Indeed, I have to spend my life erect.’

Translated by A.M. Juster, St Aldhelm’s Riddles, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, p. 59.

The author of that riddle was Aldhelm (d. 709 or 710),abbot of Malmesbury and bishop of Sherborne. Aldhelm lived in the kingdom of the West Saxons on the island of Britain, so he had probably never seen an elephant himself. However, elephants were mainstays of Christian literature from North Africa and beyond, and Aldhelm had been taught by people who had probably seen elephants. He was a student at the school that Hadrian of Africa and Theodore of Tarsus set up at Canterbury. (Theodore had been appointed archbishop of Canterbury.) A copy of notes which Hadrian's and Theodore's students took survives in a manuscript in Milan. The elephant riddle was number 96 out of 100 in Aldhelm's collection. In the riddle, Aldhelm drew on classical ideas about war elephants and also alludes to the extent to which ivory was prized. Aldhelm's riddles continued to be studied for hundreds of years after his death: the manuscript above was made around 1000 AD. Origin: England (possibly made at Christ Church Canterbury; later owned at Glastonbury Abbey) Date: late 10th or early 11th century Now British Library, Royal MS 12 C XXIII, ff. 100v-101r

[the-fruit-tea-devil]

Chomos that were unalived part 2

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING: Violence, rape⚠️

Chomos that were unalived part 1

1. Dennis Pegg

Dennis Pegg was a former scout leader who molested young boys, one of his victims was Clark Fredricks. He was sexually, physically, and emotionally abused by Pegg from ages 7-12. Clark Fredricks also recalls a moment when Pegg’s dog heard his screams and Pegg beat up the dog and threatened to do the same to Clark.

His murder: In 2012, Clark broke into Pegg’s home and stabbed him to death and cut his throat. He later became a motivational speaker for sexual abuse victims.

2. Mitchell Harrison

A young British man named Mitchell Harrison was jailed in 2009 for luring a 13 year old girl in his apartment and r*ping her. He was arrested for an indefinite amount of time with a minimum of 4 1/2 years.

His murder: In 2011, Michael Parr and Nathan Mann, two inmates both jailed for murdering people at a hospital, wanted to torture Harrison and even eat his liver, likely because they found out he is a sex offender. They basically disemboweled and murdered him in short. They were both given life sentences, if not already for their prior murders.

3. Christian Maire

40 year old Christian Maire was an online child exploitation ring leader who exploited and manipulated over a 100 adolescent girls to strip, perform sex acts and even cut themselves on camera. He was sentenced to four decades of prison time.

The murder: Christian was killed by two men, Alex Albert Castro and Adam “Creeper” Wright. Castro was convicted of gang crimes like drugs and Creeper was allegedly convicted of a robbery. They kicked him, stomped him, stabbed him and threw him down a flight of metal stairs. They each served an additional 20-24 years for this second degree murder.

4. Deandre Austin

In 2008, Deandre Austin was sentenced to life in prison for the continuous SA of his 3 elementary school aged nieces from 2002-2006. His murder: In 2020, Deandre Austin was killed by his cellmate, Rodney Jordan, who was convicted of a burglary. Not a lot of details were released but it is said he probably killed him because…you know… he was a chomo…

5. Roy Whitling

Roy Whitling was the killer of 8 year old Sarah Payne and he already had a history of child SA and kidnapping. In 1995, he was already given a four year sentence for the kidnap and r*pe of an 8 year old girl. In 2001, he was convicted again for the murder and kidnapping of 8 year old Sarah Payne.

His attack: I say “attack” because he wasn’t murdered but attacked. Convicted killer Rickie Tregaskis (who was already serving life imprisonment with a 20-year minimum for the 1999 murder of a disabled man in Cornwall) slashed Whitling’s cheek with a razor and left a 6 inch scar. Roy is also said to have been (possibly on a separate incident) beat up with a wooden plank with nails and called a “nonce”

6. David Kever

David Kever was convicted on four counts of lewd and lascivious indecent assault on a child under 16, sexual battery, and attempted sexual battery in 1996. He was temporarily released in December 2009 before being reincarcerated a few months later. He was sentenced 8 or 9 years in jail for failure to register as a sex offender. In 2019, he was killed and stomped to death by his 44 year old cellmate Jimmy Ray Carruthers. Now before you cheer him on, just note that Carruthers himself was also a child molester.

Jimmy Ray Carruthers has been in bars since 1994. He was convicted of aggravated child abuse on a victim under the age of 13, two counts of sexual battery on a victim under 12, two counts of battery against a law enforcement officer, and misconduct related to a false fire alarm. Before the murder, Carruthers was going to be released in 2021.

7. David Oseas Ramirez

David Oseas Ramirez was serving life in prison for molesting an 11 year old girl. In 2019, he was killed by Paul Dixon, who was already a convicted murderer. They had an argument, it got physical and Paul ended up shoving David’s head down a toilet and drowning him.

8. Jason Turnball

Turnball was serving a 10-15 sentence for a single count of third-degree criminal sexual conduct and 4 counts of fourth-degree criminal sexual conduct.

In 2016, he was killed by Timothy Dickerson, a 24 year old inmate who was serving a 6-15 year sentence for two counts of robbery. It was said he killed him due to a heated argument between the two. Because of this Dickerson was given an extra 20 years.

9. David Bobb and Graham de Luis-Conti

David Bobb and Graham de Luis-Conti were both child molesters killed by Johnathan Watson during prison. Both men were already serving life sentences for the aggravated sexual assault of a 14 year old girl.

Their murders: David Bobb was shamelessly watching PBS kids in front of the other inmates, all of whom were very uncomfortable since they knew about his crime. Watson then proceeded to beat him to death with a walking cane. When Watson found other that Graham was convicted for the same crime as Bobb, he decided to beat him in the same way he did to Bobb.

10. John Geogan

John Geogan was a defrocked priest with many charges and scandals of child sexual abuse.

In 2002, he was defrocked and arrested with a 9-10 year prison sentence. But in 2003, he was killed by Joseph L. Druce. His murder: When Druce found out about Geoghan’s crimes, he “saw him as a prize”and planned to murder him. Druce was arrested for killing a man who he thought was flirting with him. Druce was also said to be a member of a Neo-Nazi hate group and had a deep seated hatred for sexual abusers and homosexuals since he was molested by his father.

[themaresnest-dumblr]

OK, have now watched that ‘Max’ episode of Stranger Things, Season Four, Episode Four, and it is by far the most overrated and ludicrous of the lot. It’s not bloody bogeymen from the upside down she should be having visions of, it’s jumped sharks.

First up, the premise this hardboiled ginger nut had some secret guilt about Billy’s death.

Oh please!

The p**ck physically as well as verbally abused her every chance he got for years, and we’re supposed to believe she’s all torn up inside because he did one decent thing in his whole oxygen stealing existence?

Real people in the real world don’t behave like that. The only regrets they usually feel is never applying a sledgehammer to their tormentor’s worthless skulls when they had the chance. Eleven’s behaviour towards her tormentors: realistic. Max’s behaviour: baloney.

Besides, Max is someone who treats the people she likes as disposable pick ups and drop downs like toys as it is (especially her supposed boyfriend), and openly admits to her councillor the death of Billy had the bonus of ridding her of her equally violent and abusive stepdad. Does that sound like someone that’s gonna have a moment’s regret over Billy’s fetid carcass going to the Oldest Recycling Centre?

It’s not that she is incapable of caring, but she’s an atypical survivor of a toxic environment, ergo her own needs override just about much else - and that kind of mindset takes years (and more than a few long dark nights of the soul) to change

Finally, the whole dumb arse notion of her being into Kate f**king Bush ... again, history matters.

Skater kids haven’t changed much since the days the slim boards were replaced by the giant sawn off ironing boards more familiar to the current generations. They like fast aggressive music for a reason - when doing a highly physical hobby with some physical risks, you want to listen to stuff that gets the adrenaline pumping, not f**king ‘Clair de lune’ by Debussy!

On the other hand, skater kids wouldn’t want to be into the same stuff as the macho meatheads into heavy metal or hard rock, so ‘old school’ punk like the Buzzcocks, Dead Kennedys, Ramones, the Vandals, the Damned and others loved by the counterculture of the day was their bag - later morphing into the likes of Green Day, Offspring, Rancid, etc.

The reality is someone like Max would be more likely to find Kate Bush the antithesis of her sensibilities, a self-indulgent posh bird from England disappearing up her own lilywhite world arse. And the album ‘Hounds Of Love’ is just about the most offensive it would have been possible to get for a skater girl (had she even heard of it - both it and ‘Running Up That Hill’ only reached No.30 on the Billboard charts, and only gained any sort of traction around Ivy League university campuses. The nearest most Americans had to intellectualism in music at that time was Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ ...). It was slaughtered in the American press at the time as ‘something only English ears would like’, with Rolling Stone (at that time still considered the bible of the zeitgeist in the USA) being particularly scathing.

In 1984, after the major financial disaster for EMI caused by the flop of her ‘disappear up my own arse’ album The Dreaming (one result of which being its proposed merger with British Aerospace collapsed when Thorn EMI profits doozied), she’d been presented with much the same diktat CBS have given The Clash under similar circumstances three years earlier - ‘you’ve twelve months to present us with a commercially viable album plus a bonus track for a projected Greatest Hits album to make good on our losses - or your contract’s terminated.’

‘Hounds Of Love’ did the job in spades, even if ‘Cloudbursting’ (the latter with no less than Donald Sutherland in the video) wasn’t the monster global hit EMI was sure it would be, that long sought after next ‘Wuthering Heights’ which would always elude them until, ironically thirty six years too late later.

Bottom line: the idea of Max turning into some secretly sensitive Kate Bush fan is baloney covered in a thick WTF sauce, and a sign the shows writer’s were not merely out of ideas but by season four butt lazily lapsing into self-indulgence. The whole notion of some supernatural alien whatever supervillain killing people after feeding off their guilt is stolen wholesale off the famous Polymorph episode of Red Dwarf, for crying out loud. The whip crack sound of the tentacles that ensnare Max when in her own nightmare is the exact same sound used by the tentacles in the Apocrypha in The Elder Scrolls V Skyrim: Dragonborn!

(Come to that, much of that whole nightmare world looks suspiciously like bits of the Apocypha and the Soul Cairn ...)

The first two seasons of this show were great, the third one a curate’s egg, but this last one is starting to wear thin half way through the bingewatch, rather like one of those video games franchises like Far Cry which doesn’t know when it needs to take a break and breathe for a bit.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Military AU Masterlist

A Bullet or Two for You (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: “What else is a man our age good for in the middle of a war?”

Daniel Howell is conscripted into the British Army at 19. At 24, with the help of a little hot metal, he meets a man who changes his perspective. Maybe hospital isn't so bad after all.

Before Tomorrow Comes - lifee-scap-ism

Summary: As Phil volunteered to join the military, his days with Dan were numbered. But instead of spending time together, Dan hid away from Phil for fear of losing him. However, on Phil’s last night before he was sent away, Dan stood soaking wet at his door. “Stay,” was all he said. “I want you here with me, before tomorrow comes.”

Catch You Sleeping (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan meets the love of his life in an army training camp.

Christmas should be with family. - so-much-cherry-everywhere

Summary: Dan is away, Phil wishes he'd be home for Christmas...

Coming Home (ao3) - orphan_account

Phil’s away in the military and Dan is by himself with their young son, Mason. Phil promises Dan that one day he’s coming home.

Don't Go Looking For Goodbye (ao3) - AllusionToReality (orphan_account)

Summary: He wanted to do this, he wanted to be a soldier. He’d already gone through boot camp, graduating with some of the highest honors during AIT. He was strong, he was prepared, and once he got the order to be shipped out of the country on a tour, he took it immediately.

Based on Troye Sivan's, "Fun" from his EP, TRXYE

Flesh of the Church (ao3) - boffinhatwithapipeYuekagami

Summary: There is a war brewing. In the depths of a universe where every now and then, a war is rising up, young people with no military experiences shall be drafted and paint the earth's ground in red. History books list the painters. What about the people of the shadows, their eyes trained into the darkness, their dinner tables devoid of entities who once become a part of their world? What about those people who had to bear the pain of waiting, of praying and hoping? History books list the painters. But no one ever lists the writers.

I get lonely when I think about your smile (ao3) - AmazinGhoul

Summary: Dan left for a half of the year. He left his home and UK, but more importantly he left Phil. Luckily Phil found a way to communicate with his best friend.

--

Letters send by Dan and Phil while Dan is away on his mission as a medic.

i promise i'll never leave (ao3) - graylane

Summary: dan and phil reuniting at the airport after dan was gone for four years in the army.

I’m Coming Home - danalingphil-fics

Summary: Phil’s off at the war and Dan’s waiting for him to come home.

Katie's Graduation Present (ao3) - auroraphilealis (peachrayne)

Phil Lester has missed the majority of his daughter's high school years because he’s spent the last four years in the military. When Dan finds out he’s going to miss her graduation, too, he throws a fit, and doesn’t even say “I love you,” before hanging up on him. So who's the military guy in blue at the bottom of the bleachers?

Letters (ao3) - orphan_account

You always were going to come back, weren't you?

Letters to Dan. (ao3) - ily4never

Summary: Phil Lester has joined the Union army. The country is filled with war and death, but, in the midst of the pain, his love, Dan Howell, keeps him sane.

Or, alternatively, the fic where I make them American so that Phil can fight against slavery.

Letters To Phil. (ao3) - Mi_Munson

Summary: Dan Howell is a student.

Phil Lester is a soldier.

Dan enters a school project called "Letters to Soldiers".

or

The fanfic that Dan and Phil fall in love with each other through letters.

Love is for fallen men (ao3) - Nameless_ThankYous (SusanSketchesanddoodles)

Summary: When war was declared on August 4th 1914, Dan was ready. It would be a Great War. Desperate to prove himself a man, he joins the armed forces, against his mother’s every wish. He gets lotted in with the first draft. In the trenches, he meets Phil -- a handsome-faced 21-year-old with the same goal. But the realities of war set in quickly as the bombs keep dropping, the trenches get filthier and his letters stop arriving home.

Never Alone (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Phil has always wanted to be in the army ever since he was a little kid. So now, he’s finally got the chance to go. Unfortunately, this means that he has to leave his family and his pregnant boyfriend behind.

Returning Home - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan returns home from being in the war and is reunited with Phil again, after being away for three years. 

Vanilla Twilight (ao3) - meggie_megs

Summary: Dan's staring at the stars missing Phil.

Welcome home, Danny (ao3) - AmazinGhoul

Summary: Dan is coming back home after spending a half of the year in military. He and Phil were sending letters to each other throughout this whole time and at some point decided to move in together and go on a date. Finally it's time to turn their plans into reality.

[princessmadafu]

My kids don’t do woke

One day, about 45 years ago, I was in A Level French class. The teacher (call him Mr Smith) dished out some practice exam papers and we began reading. Then he quickly recalled the papers, saying they were the wrong ones, scooped them back up and gave us different papers. Papers about insects. After class, myself and my best friend Rozzer (short for Rosemary; not an alias, Rozzer knows who she is!!!) we lingered - being Francophiles and loving French literature - and we asked Mr Smith what the "other paper" was. He showed us, and it was about the death of a man. Knowing that one of our class (I'll call her Jane) had recently and unexpectedly lost her father, Mr Smith pulled the paper quickly in case Jane got upset.

That was kind and caring of Mr Smith, who knew each member of his class and took the trouble to accommodate personal circumstances. The class read the "other paper" three months later when Jane was in a better place; and we all went on to Uni the following September, 1980-ish - though myself and Rozzer took a gap year. It was the olden days when you had to fill up a few months after 7th term Oxbridge.

Now our schools and universities seem to operate like wokey businesses, afraid to expand their students' minds in case they lose lots of money when they inadvertently make unknown students cry and demand compensation. There is no Mr Smith who knew Jane's deceased father personally and wanted to give her space and time to grieve.

Now it's all "Let's Not Teach Anybody Anything in case Jane gets upset and sues us."

And now, yet again, I'm reading about trigger warnings on literature. All literature. Including fairytales like Beowulf.

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-11078663/Monstrous-Old-English-classic-Beowulf-gets-slapped-trigger-warning-monsters.html

I have Sweet's Anglo-Saxon Reader in front of me. I studied English at A Level too, and was more concerned with de-cyphering all the words than I was about who did what to a fictitious monster.

What? You mean English Literature students only study modern translations of Beowulf? Not the old weird language with squiggly bits? Wtf...

Wait, I have a 1912 first edition of Ebbutt's Hero-Myths and Legends of the British Race... Beowulf, Beowulf, ah here it is, page 16! And written in 1912 English - with a nice picture of Grendel getting his arm ripped off. Other illustrations available, including variations on the theme of decapitation.

There was a fashion in the 19th century for Bowdlerising books; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Expurgation

"The term derives from Thomas Bowdler's 1818 edition of William Shakespeare's plays, which he reworked in ways that he felt were more suitable for women and children."

I mean how much more patronising can you get!

OK, protect small children from the yucky bits of Shakespeare, but women? Women? Honestly? Do I need protecting from Shakespeare? And don't even try and protect Mad from Shakespeare; she may have metallic purple hair and look like an eccentric granny whose perm has gone wrong but I've seen her subdue an out-of-control Rottweiler at the Rescue Shelter and she's not someone to be messed with.

Infants: newborns and wobblies; they cry, eat, poop and sleep

Toddlers: toddly with a desire to eat mud and put wasps in their nappies

Children: walking, running, massively curious and dangerously inventive

Teenagers: eat pizzas, want to learn how to snog and be an influencer

Young adults: not as stupid as you think but they still like to annoy old people

Women: adult females who deserve respect and who get a bit cross when other adults try and infantilise them

It's the infantilising bit that bugs me.

Regardless of your gender and all the other things we are ordered not to talk about these days, if you are not an infant or small child who needs to learn that worms aren't sweeties, why do you need trigger warnings? If you're old enough to be at University, you are old enough to be responsible for yourself. You don't need other people putting nappies on your head so you don't hear the yucky bits where Beowulf finds severed portions of Aschere in his path. It's just a story.

I refuse to believe that students are now so useless.

Could it be that the useless ones are the tutors who don't want to help our next generation of students grow their minds and live like adults? Is it a minority of activists who want to hog-tie our students until they agree with all their Ridiculosities of Wokedom? Is it just idiot journalists reeling me in for clickbait?

Fairy stories? Read the real Brothers Grimm and realise that life isn't a Disney cartoon full of bluebirds and snuggly rabbits. Read Beowulf, red in tooth and claw. Here's Beowulf finding Aschere's head...

And if anybody is still reading, would you like a quick look at the story of Laegaire and Uath...

[troybeecham]

Today, the Church remembers St. Dunstan of Canterbury, Monk and Archbishop.

Ora pro nobis.

Dunstan was born near Glastonbury in the southwest of England about the year AD 909, ten years after the death of King Alfred. During the Viking invasions of the ninth century, monasteries had been favorite targets of the invaders, and by Dunstan's time English monasticism had been wiped out. In its restoration in the tenth century, Dunstan played the leading role. He was born of an upper-class family, and sent to court, where he did not fit in. At the urging of his uncle, the Bishop of Westminster, he became a monk and a priest, and returned to Glastonbury, where he built a hut near the ruins of the old monastery, and devoted himself to study, music, metal working (particularly the art of casting church bells, an art which he is said to have advanced considerably), and painting. A manuscript illuminated by him is in the British Museum. He returned to court and was again asked to leave; but then King Edmund had a narrow escape from death while hunting, and in gratitude recalled Dunstan and in 943 commissioned him to re-establish monastic life at Glastonbury. (Glastonbury is one of the oldest Christian sites in England, and is associated in legend with King Arthur and his Court, with Joseph of Arimathea, and with other worthies. It has been said that the Holy Grail, the chalice of the Last Supper, is hidden somewhere near Glastonbury.) Under Dunstan's direction, Glastonbury became an important center both of monasticism and of learning. The next king, Edred, adopted Dunstan's ideas for various reforms of the clergy (including the control of many cathedrals by monastic chapters) and for relations with the Danish settlers. These policies made Dunstan popular in the North of England, but unpopular in the South.

Edred was succeeded by his sixteen-year-old nephew Edwy, whom Dunstan openly rebuked for unchastity. The furious Edwy drove Dunstan into exile, but the North rose in rebellion on his behalf. When the dust settled, Edwy was dead, his brother Edgar was king, and Dunstan was Archbishop of Canterbury. The coronation service which Dunstan compiled for Edgar is the earliest English coronation service of which the full text survives, and is the basis for all such services since, down to the present. With the active support of King Edgar, Dunstan re-established monastic communities at Malmesbury, Westminster, Bath, Exeter, and many other places. Around 970 he presided at a conference of bishops, abbots, and abbesses, which drew up a national code of monastic observance, the Regularis Concordia. It followed Benedictine lines, but under it the monasteries were actively involved in the life of the surrounding community. For centuries thereafter the Archbishop of Canterbury was always a monk.

Dunstan took an active role in politics under Edgar and his successor Edward, but under the next king, Ethelred, he retired from politics and concentrated on running the Canterbury cathedral school for boys, where he was apparently successful in raising the academic standards while reducing the incidence of corporal punishment. On Ascension Day in 988, he told the congregation that he was near to death, and died two days later. (by James Kiefer)

O God of truth and beauty, you richly endowed your bishop Dunstan with skill in music and the working of metals, and with gifts of administration and reforming zeal: Teach us, we pray, to see in you the source of all our talents, and move us to offer them for the adornmen of worship and the advancement of tgrue religion; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

Amen.

[voice-of-anarchy]

ARCH ENEMY / “I HADN’T BEEN STANDING UP PLAYING GUITAR FOR A LONG TIME,” MICHAEL AMOTT SAYS

Arch Enemy will release their eleventh studio album, Deceivers, on the 12 August via Century Media. MetalTalk’s Dany Jones caught up with guitarist and founding member Michael Amott.

Amott is in London, mid-way through a brief promotional stint, having recently played a US Arch Enemy tour. “Yesterday we were in Berlin,” he says, “and tomorrow we’re in Paris. So it’s one of those whirlwind promo trips, but that’s cool. It’s exciting now, after everything that’s been happening in the last couple of years, being out meeting people. We just came back from North America. We did the tour. We played concerts for the first time in two and a half years. So it’s all back, and we feel great.”

Amott is half-British, with a sexy accent. “I have British and Swedish passports,” he says. “I grew up in Sweden for the most part. We spoke English at home, and then I spoke Swedish at school and with my friends. I think that was a good idea.”

A very skilled guitarist, Amott has a career of 30 years, and with Arch Enemy, they are celebrating a 25th anniversary. He was placed at number 74 on Guitar Worlds Top 100 Guitarist list.

“I’ve been decorated with a few awards,” he says. “I’ve won best guitar player of the year and things like that, and have a few of those from Japan. It’s cool to get these things, you know. It’s not the reason why I do this, though. I have had a passion since thirteen years old to play the guitar, and I never really developed any other hobbies along the way. I would ride my bicycle to the rehearsal room with a guitar gig bag on my back. It just kind of went from there. In many ways, I’m still that same person. Now I’m flying around the world or getting on a tour bus doing the same kind of thing. It’s just been a great journey, really. Music is still my passion and the self-expression part of it, with the guitar playing and the songwriting.”

Michael says there have been moments when he has felt like he had finally arrived, but he is a grounded man. “It’s easy to get spooked if you work yourself up too much. You can let nerves take over and get a bit anxious about playing certain big shows or things like that. I’ve had those moments where I look up from the stage, and I’m like, ‘wow.’ I’ve seen an ocean of people, and it’s being broadcast live on tv in Germany, and you realize that’s actually a pretty big moment. I try not to focus on that, though. Every show is kind of the same in a way, if it’s 300 people, or 30,000 or, in some cases, over 100,000 people at some of these festivals. My eyesight is not that great, so I can only see the first few rows. Then it’s all a blur.”

Arch Enemy were formed in 1995 by former Carnage members Amott and Johan Liiva, and while it might originally have been seen as a one-off project, it certainly exploded.

“I didn’t really know what it was going to become,” Amott says. “We made those choices, we found the band name, but we didn’t think that 25 plus years later, we would still be talking about this.”

The first album was Black Earth, released in ’96. “It came out on a very small label of a friend who, at the time, put it out in Sweden. But what happened was that he got it licensed to a Japanese label, and that label really built up the band there. We started touring there. We were the first Melodic Death Metal band that played in Japan. We became the biggest and remained the biggest band of that style over there. It’s been a very long relationship in that territory.”

The rest of the world did catch up, though. “It took a while,” Michael laughs. “In the beginning, in the ’90s, we’d play like quite large shows and concerts in Japan. Then we came back and played little basement venues in Germany, something at a youth centre or something with a couple of hundred people. Balancing that in those first few years was a bit weird.”

Michael still talks fondly about the Metal family in Japan. “I would say Japan is very dear to our hearts, and we owe them a lot. We’ve been worldwide for many years, but it’s always nice when somebody is going to give you that first chance, right? It just happened to be over there, so it’s cool.”

I describe Michael as a man of the pentatonic scale, particularly the Aeolian mode. “One of my favourite bands is UFO, and Michael Schenker uses a lot of that. My ears are tuned to that. I’m a self-taught musician, a self-taught guitar player, and I try to be very melodic. But, I like all kinds of music, and I love all kinds of players.”

In terms of style, there was a distinct plan for Arch Enemy from the very beginning. “I came from a more of a Death Metal background, when I formed Arch Enemy. I wanted to have those very high tempos, the double bass drum, very fast drumming, screaming vocals, lowered tuning of the guitars, and all the heaviness. But I also wanted to have high-quality guitar parts with melodies and harmonies and push that to the forefront.”

But with the balance and attention to great songwriting. “I wanted to write really great songs within that style of music, instead of just trying to impress people with how fast or how low and heavy you could be,” he says. “I wanted it also to be about good songs, and I think that’s what we continue to do to this day, just trying to write great songs.”

This is something I can totally relate to. Michael’s technique and ability are undeniable, but ultimately, people want to hear songs. They want to hear something that is memorable. With Deceivers, Arch Enemy will show the world that memorable songwriting is still in their lockers, as repeated listens show how crucial this is, as the album is absolutely excellent.

“Thank you, that’s cool,” Michael says. “I mean, that’s what we do. Songwriting is really my main interest nowadays, more so maybe than being a lead guitarist. It’s become more and more important to me, songwriting.”

Possibly this is the head of experience. “I’m really trying to be very minimalist,” Michael says. “I come from a background of, always in the past, trying to create very, you know, tricky and complicated guitar parts that other guitar players would be impressed by. I found myself moving away from that a little bit. I mean, we do have moments of that, which I think is also cool for the energy. You sometimes need really mind-blowing guitar things going on. But for the most part of it, I’m more interested in something that’s going to connect with people on an emotional level and usually, that’s something quite primal actually.”

At the turn of the century, vocalist Johan Liiva left Arch Enemy and was replaced by Angela Gossow. Was Michael concerned that it might have been a risk?

“At the time when Angela joined, it was not like a template for success,” he says. “It was not a recipe for having people liking your band or something like that. It was a little bit of a risk at the time, I guess, but it felt very exciting at the same time, too, because I knew what she could do. We were a much smaller band at the time, so we were just prepared to take that risk.”

But that is not just in the sense of replacing a male vocalist with a female one. “Changing a singer at any point in your career in a Metal band is a big thing, and at the time, there were not that many female singers doing it with that extreme vocal style. It was something different for sure, but I think that was a big plus as well.”

Although there were challenges to overcome. “Some people didn’t like us because of that,” Michael says. “There are a lot of people that would never listen to Arch Enemy because we have a female singer still to this day. That’s just how it is, you know. I don’t really care about those kinds of things, [laughs]. In music, I don’t think it matters. I think it’s great. We have always been very open-minded about that. I think we all have in the band. It’s been a challenge in a way sometimes to deal with those issues. There were a lot of people who were kind of shocked in the beginning when Angela joined. But at the same time, we enjoyed it. We had fun with it.”

Angela Gossow certainly has a huge personality and a huge voice to back that up, and in my times as a DJ, Nemesis was one of my playlist staples.

“I never liked it when people saw it as a gimmick,” Michael says. “Sometimes you see bands, and they have [women] almost like models as the front person, but they’re not all successful anyway because the music maybe isn’t that great. You’ve got to have great songs, a great band and a great singer and a great, great total team. The full picture has to be great. I think at the heart of it, every position has to be a killer.”

2014, and Angela decided to take a step back from touring while remaining as the band’s manager, cherry-picking Alissa White-Gluz as her replacement.

“It was a very difficult time for us,” Michael says. “Angela had been in the band for over 12 years at that point, was very well established as the front person of the band and was the face of the band in many ways.”

Amott, drummer Daniel Erlandsson and bassist Sharlee D’Angelo met to discuss if they should fold the band. The consistent theme was that they all still wanted to play together. “Angela didn’t want us to quit,” Michael says. “She thought that Alissa would be a good replacement.”

Michael had been working on material for a new album, the follow-up to Khaos Legions.

“Alissa came over to Sweden,” Michael says. “I tried recording a little bit with her, some new demos. We wrote a little bit with her. She came to the rehearsal room that we had and sang the old material with us, and it just sounded great. Every aspect of it was really good. So that gave us the confidence to move forward, and then we went into the production of what became the War Eternal album.”

Amott spoke about his expectations for War Eternal. “I’ve said this in many interviews, but I personally thought that our popularity would drop for a little bit,” he says. “But I really believed in the album and the new lineup. I thought slowly, but surely we will pick up and kind of come back to where we were. But what happened was the opposite, basically. It just took off like a rocket into the sky, and the band became more popular than ever. It just goes to show that you never can tell what’s going to happen. The chemistry was right, the album was right, and the time was right, I guess.”

Alissa was no shrinking violet. A huge personality, stunning and with an amazing stage presence and such versatility in her vocals, from the melodic through to the death growls, you can easily experience why the performances would be so appealing to so many fans. As a band, it has been great.

“But, as a songwriter as well, it has been great,” Michael says. “To have that in the toolbox, with all the different voices that she can do, that is so great. Our main focus, I think, will always be on the heavier side of things, that’s just the natural sound for us to go to as about as a group, but to have these other tones and atmospheres that we can put into the music now… like in the first song on the new album, Handshake With Hell, we can use different parts, a completely different atmosphere and then bring it back to the heaviness. I think it’s cool. It’s a great dynamic to have.”

Deceivers, the third album with Alissa, is not a concept album but a consistent theme developed. “We noticed, when we were putting the record together, a few songs had this commonality,” Michael says. “Lyrics about masks and betrayal and stuff like that. So we just thought, why not? It sounds pretty good, I think.”

The Deceiver might be someone who presents a false image of themselves on social media or some politicians, and this is a theme which seems to run through today’s society. People who are “out for themselves or have their own agenda,” Michael says.

The creative process is interesting, with Michael and Daniel building up songs in Daniel’s home studio. “We then have a meeting, where we say ‘yes’ to every idea, even if it’s something different for us. Later we sift through everything and make some more difficult decisions. Putting it together musically is super fun and creative. We get a little bit more serious later on when turning it into real songs.”

Alissa worked on her demos in Canada, and then the band met together to fine-tune the vocal arrangements before entering the studio.

Michael has spoken before about how he shuts the world out and enters a deep artistic zone during the writing process. “This time, it was almost crucial for my mental health because, when we were making this album, there was so much negativity and uncertainty in the world. I really needed something to focus on, and I just stopped watching the news. It just seemed so hopeless. I think we all needed this project.”

The Sony music team in Berlin loved the new album, and four singles have been released, “a foreign concept to me to do this in Metal,” says Michael.

But, he has now changed his mind. “It’s been a very positive experience,” he says. “People have been more inclined to check out the songs on a deeper level than if they get everything at once. We certainly noticed it when we played in North America. We were playing Deceiver, Deceiver, Handshake With Hell, and House Of Mirrors, and people were singing along in the mosh pits. The recognition for those songs was huge.”

Arch Enemy play six festivals this year, and after the album is out, dates with Carcass follow. “I just saw Carcass play in California,” Michael says. “I’m still good friends with them. I think it’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

For now, with gigs, it feels like things are almost back to normal, with Amott back again standing up to play guitar. “I hadn’t been standing up playing guitar for a long time. I had been sitting down at the studio at home practising.”

Even the touring is a joy again. “I loved the social aspect as well,” Michael says, “you know, hanging out with my bandmates, with our crew or with the other groups and meeting the fans again. It was a readjustment to being such a social creature again, but I liked it. We had a great time and we feel very energized and ready to move forward.”

Arch Enemy will now release Deceivers on 12 August 2022.

[artismismasuperpowee]

Hello! That's my jojo part 5 oc : Morte Righello and her stand Master of Puppets!Ok under cut are every info you want about her! I got other jojo oc's so if you like her, wait for other!

Morte Righello ( Morte - Death in italian , Righello - Ruler in italian)

Born : 1980.12.07 (21 years old)

Member of Passione (Bucciarati team)

Half Italian/Quarter British/Quarter Polish

IQ : 130

Personality : Nice, Compassionate, Smart, Confidence, Sarcastic, Impetuous, Gets pissed off easily, Loved

Likes : Her team, Polish sausage, Trash Metal, Earrings, Painting, Bike Tours

Hates : Her Scar, Mistreatment of foreign workers, Drugs, Diavolo

Family : *Father : Michael (Michał) Righello - Mak (Mak - Poppy in polish) Half British/Half Polish (Dead)

*Mother : Bologna Righello Italian (Alive)

Stand : Master of Puppets (Metalica song)

When she cut someone with spike she can take control over that person. Only Morte can break control when it is on.

Range : 100 m ( 0,06 mile) Limit : 2 peaple

Story : After her 18th birthday her mother threw her out of the house. She wanted to find a job, but because she didn't have a degree from school and zero experience, no one wanted to hire her. She didn't want to be prostitute, so she was homeless. She was stealing to have money on food. After a while Bucciarati find her and found her a job.When she found out who he was, she decided to help him. She find Polpo and passed his test, after it she got Master of Puppets.

Voice : *Japanese : Romi Park

* English : Coleen Clinkenbeard

- She has hypothyroidism

- Her favorite food are polish sausage, Spaghetti Bolognese, Lasagne and Earl Grey tea

- She got a cat named Cerniera Lampo (Cerniera Lampo - Zipper in italian)

- She know four launguage's (Italian, English, Polish and Latin), Mista think that it's cursed, so when Giorno come along she started learn Japanese

- She's bisexual

- Narancia, Mista, Giorno, Fugo and Trish are like younger siblings to her

[grantgoddard]

Things you say you love, you’re gonna lose : 1973 : the curse of The Blue Pool, Camberley

 The couple put the huge dog in the back of their car and, before setting off down our driveway, smiled and waved at us. We did not smile. We did not wave back. My mother was weeping. Uncontrollably. I had never seen her so upset. She had just said goodbye to her beloved pet dog. For the last time. I hugged her. But that day’s heartbreak consumed her … for years to come.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that we had excitedly carried that dog home as a tiny puppy in a cardboard box. It had been smaller than a cat then. Now it had grown heavier than a human. One cold, dark winter’s afternoon years earlier, we had brought back our new pet on the train from Waterloo. Thick fog had enveloped our route, prolonging our usual one-hour journey home to more than two hours, and rendering the suburban landscape spookily invisible through the train windows. Stopped at Bagshot station, the guard walked down the carriages’ central corridor carrying a bright torchlight and explained that our train would be held there for quite a while. Because the double-track railway narrowed to a single line beyond Frimley, the British Rail timetable regularly disintegrated into chaos in both directions when even a single train was delayed. I pulled down the window of the carriage door, peered outside but could make out only a pinprick of the red stop light at the top of the westbound platform entirely masked by thick fog.

That day the scary darkness through which our train had clickety-clacked had been unable to spoil the delight of having collected our new puppy from London. Now, years later, we were having to fight a route through a different abstract kind of foggy darkness that was undeniably dampening our spirits. No longer able to afford to feed the dog who had been her loyal companion for years, my mother had become resigned to placing a ‘dog for sale’ advertisement in the ‘Camberley News’. It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do. It felt like selling a member of her tightly-knit family. But she had recently become a single mother with three children aged between two and fifteen to support and had to accept her budget could no longer stretch to the expense of the huge volume of meat our pet required.

That dog was the last in a line of Saint Bernard’s that had been our pets since I was small. The first had been named ‘Samantha’ after the lead character in the ‘Bewitched’ TV series. I had chosen the name ‘Suna’ for its successor. They had died of old age but, on each occasion, my mother had combatted her sadness by promising herself to buy a similar puppy and transfer her unconditional love to it, which she did. This occasion was very different. A lifetime of big shaggy dogs had been brought to an abrupt end, not by death but by austerity. As children, the three of us had grown up around a Saint Bernard that had been taller than us in our earliest years and, despite drooling over us and our furniture, had been as gentle and friendly as any family could want. Why did my mother have such an affinity for this particular breed of dog, which was so unconventional in that era?

Her trip to Switzerland in 1953 or 1954 had had a long-lasting impact. My mother had returned with three things: a large rusty metal cowbell, a love of Lindt chocolate and her first encounter with a Saint Bernard. For someone from her ‘modest’ background who had never before had an opportunity to travel abroad, the trip proved an eyeopener, particularly after her mother had vetoed her post-school ambition to study agriculture in Denmark. Back then, international travel remained the privilege of the elite and Switzerland was a destination reserved for those attending private ‘finishing schools’ or wealthy skiers.

My mother always claimed that she had made the trip with ‘work colleagues’, though I have always considered it more likely that she was accompanied by a manager (the manager?) in her workplace, Peter, who was providing her with a daily lift to her first workplace, the Elizabeth Shaw chocolate manufacturer recently relocated to Camberley. In earlier years’ annual roll photographs from Camberley Girls’ Grammar School, portraying long rows of its entire student and staff body, my mother was easily identifiable in the back row by her bouffant hair and radiant smile among a sea of rather dowdy girls who looked browbeaten by the War. She had the air of someone who aspired to a brighter future. Maybe it was during this trip to Switzerland, ostensibly to view how chocolate was manufactured at the Lindt factory, that Peter had made his marriage proposal … which she rejected.

A keen swimmer, my mother had managed to persuade her parents to buy her a season ticket during school summer holidays for the Blue Pool, a large outdoor lido-like pool on the London Road adjacent to Portesbery Hill Drive, a half-mile bike ride from her home. This was the only place in Camberley for young people to meet then, there being no youth club or coffee bar to fraternise. Boys and girls thronged to the pool during its summer season, unguarded by parents or chaperones, indulging in fizzy drinks and snacks of which their parents might not have approved. This is where my mother first met my father, who was almost two years older than her and had already left school to work as an apprentice. Like her, he looked more glamorous than his peers with his sleek jet-black hair and olive skin. She was rather reserved while he had the gift of the gab and a roving eye. It was a match made in …

My mother’s family refused to attend the couple’s Registry Office wedding because my grandfather knew the reputation for roughness of my father’s family and considered they and their youngest son no match for his smart youngest daughter with whom he had enjoyed such a close bond, particularly during wartime. He considered no good would come of their relationship … and he was eventually proven right! The day a few years later when I was born at home, my father was nowhere to be seen because, my mother alleged, he was with his ‘girlfriend’ who was simultaneously pregnant by him. Soon afterwards, instead of paying the rent on their council house, my father unilaterally purchased an unaffordable car, resulting in their eviction. My maternal grandfather was generous enough to help the couple buy the semi-detached house adjoined to his home (after evicting his tenants there!), an arrangement permitting my mother’s parents to assist with childcare, in which her husband showed no interest.

My father’s philandering continued until 1972 when he finally decided to walk out on our family and start a ‘new life’ elsewhere with a recently married teenage girl from our street. Not only did he remove his own possessions from our house when he left, but he would return unannounced while we were out and take whatever he wanted. My mother stubbornly hung on to the belief that her husband would one day return to her (as he had done previously) and so failed to safeguard her own future by changing the house locks or hiding our valuables. This immunity only encouraged him to return and take time picking and choosing what he desired.

What did he steal? My mother’s car, an American Motors ‘Gremlin’, one of Detroit’s first compact hatchbacks which we had only recently travelled to an M1 service station to collect new. My father then gifted this car to his new ‘girlfriend’ before discovering that she was too young to be insured to drive it. My mother’s extensive jewellery collection that she had built since the 1950’s and comprised unusual, artistic pieces. Thousands of pounds of cash in plastic bags stashed in the top right cupboard of our white, Hygena living room storage unit, my father’s cut of dodgy property deals with his newest business partner Bill Beaver. Artwork and paintings hung in our hallway and living room. Imported soul records I had bought with my pocket money. The list went on and on.

My mother took two jobs to try and make ends meet, daytimes as bookkeeper for British Car Auctions at their site opposite Frimley gravel pits, evenings cleaning offices in Yorktown. My aunt Pam generously paid for a coastal summer holiday for our diminished family of four. However, we returned home to find even more of our belongings had vanished while we had been enjoying the seaside. To add insult to injury, my mother later found photographic evidence that my father had even organised a party for his ‘friends’ at the house during our absence. It appeared that he had been informed about the dates we were to be away by my younger brother who was the only one of us to maintain a close relationship with his father … until the day he died.

As a result, aged fourteen, that was to be my final ever holiday with my family. Pam continued to fund UK summer vacations for my mother and siblings, during which I had to stay alone at home to guard what remained of our possessions. Occasional nights, I was awoken by noises outside and got up to see the inside door handle being turned in darkness. It was as scary as a horror film, even though I was now protected by interior door bolts and I would switch on the lights to show someone was at home. For many years afterwards, we lived in that house in perpetual fear of losing what little was left of our possessions to an embittered father who demonstrated only cruelty and vengefulness towards his former family. 

That was why the necessary sale of our family’s dog proved the last straw for my mother. She would never again be the same optimistic person evident in her old school photos. It was not just that the family life she had nurtured since her Blue Pool days had finally crashed to the ground and burnt her fingers. It was not just that the warnings two decades earlier from her father about the unsuitability of her husband had proven correct. Moreso it was that her Saint Bernard dog had been a reminder of the ‘time of her life’ she had enjoyed in Switzerland and the possible future she might have enjoyed with Peter if she had only accepted his marriage proposal. It was too late now to turn back the clock. She had three children, for whom she had tried her hardest to provide a better life, but who were now growing up in much reduced circumstances with a mother who was forever at work. During the intervening period, Peter had married someone else.

Life for me became more difficult too. In 1969, my parents had promised to drive me every weekday two miles to Camberley station to catch the 8:10 train to the faraway grammar school they had selected for me. Now, the only replacement car my mother could afford was a tiny second-hand ‘NSU Prinz’ that we called ‘the sewing machine’ because of its engine noise and which regularly failed to start. My mother needed it to reach work so I was forced to make my own way to the station and back by infrequent bus or, more often, walking. To achieve this, on weekdays I was always the first to get up and leave home, but the last to go to bed, usually after midnight as I never returned home from school before six o’clock and had considerable homework to complete. Additionally, I had to look after my baby sister during school holidays while our mother was at work.

When our home’s central heating failed, local tradesmen came and looked blank as the gas air system my father had imported from America was then unknown in Britain. I wrote enquiry letters to dozens of heating specialists listed in the local library’s Yellow Pages directories, none of whom replied positively. I even wrote to the manufacturer in the United States but it had no agent in Europe. As each winter approached, I would once again dissemble the boiler mechanism myself and spend hours trying to discern the problem, to no avail. We were forced to live for years in that unheated, uninsulated house with its swathes of glass sliding doors, a factor that has forever made our bodies vulnerable to cold weather illnesses.

Somehow, we struggled through this terrible period in our lives and kept our family together with much practical and financial help from my maternal grandparents, my aunt Pam and my older cousin Lynn. Sadly, my father somehow poisoned my other aunt Sheila’s opinion of my mother so that the two sisters never spoke for decades afterwards. If this narrative appears one-sided, understand that my father’s parents, also resident in Camberley, were conspicuous by their complete absence from our family’s life. When I was young, my paternal grandfather pushed his wife down the staircase of their council house, resulting in her death. I had visited the couple only once previously with my father, purely because my mother refused to go. I visited the remaining widower only once after he was moved to a tiny old people’s flat on the London Road opposite Gibbet Lane. My father alone attended their funerals.

They say that ‘once is an accident, but twice …’ In the 1990’s, I returned to my mother’s house to retrieve several large cardboard boxes I had packed into the attic of my treasured childhood books, school projects, toys and personal items. When I climbed into the roof space, they appeared to have gone from where I had left them on the left side of the attic hatch. However, on the right side were many similar boxes. I opened them and was baffled to find they contained magazines and papers belonging to my younger brother. I could only presume that, when he had emigrated in the 1980’s, he must have taken with him MY boxed possessions but bizarrely left HIS behind. I now have almost nothing from my childhood, particularly the precious family photo album that I started in 1964 when I had been given my ‘Kodak Instamatic 25’ camera and which I had maintained religiously with dates, personnel and locations of each shot. Had my brother inherited from his father some kind of ‘cruelty to family’ gene?

During the winter of 1996, the central heating failed in the large Victorian house in Toronto where I was renting the top floor. I inspected the gas air system in the basement and was astounded to find it identical to the mechanism I had dismantled and tried to repair so many times in our Camberley house, installed three decades earlier. Bad memories came flooding back of our cold lives.

In her old age, my mother received a phone call from her former chocolate factory boss Peter informing her of his wife’s death, so she attended the funeral and visited him on the South Coast. Could have? Should have? In some kind of parallel universe, my mum might have enjoyed a longer lasting, more fulfilled married life … with somebody else.