Cupid Bow Mouth

My thoughts are so random on this episode. There’s alot of threads being tackled and not all of them jive together. In the last two episodes watching Roswell has felt like watching three different shows all at the same time: there's a murder mystery, a family drama, and a YA high school romance in New Adult-ish clothes (omg, the genre collision). Then there are the B-plots: sexual orientation in the military and immigration politics. Trying to pull the narratives together into a cohesive whole makes for a jarring roller-coaster ride.

So, cowboys ...

Immediately, the title of episode four brings to mind stereotypes of the American Cowboy taming the Wild West. He's (always a He) gallant, tall, laconic, capable, stern, tough, emotionally unavailable, and physical.

Our candidates for cowboy hood are as varied as the stereotype is flat:
Max, Michael, Kyle, Liz, Maria, Isabel, Master Sargent Manes. The problem of this line-up is the problem that the episode posits: Where Have all the Cowboys Gone? The fact is that they are missing. The stereotype is absent in the selection of characters provided. Looking back over the episode, they're knocked off one by one.

Spoilers!!

( There's a reason God put a cage around your heart. )

Picked up via runpunkrun.

The Military Industrial Complex as commodified spectacle. Hey Ho is dark despite the pastel colors and the mellow brightness of the melody. It is, in fact, dark because of them. The juxtaposition of the lyrics with the melody overlaid with the film images encourage an uneasy awareness of how war is bought and sold in a perpetual cycle of generational brain washing. Images of heroism (and superheroism) are traded for currency and for bodies: kids who grow up wanting to be like The Avengers and who in the process are acting in service to warmongers and merchants who are most interested in the profitability of war.

The refrain is a killer, and the editing highlights its theme with chilling grace. Cap elided with Bruce gave me goosebumps.

Title: Hey Ho
Creator: thuvia ptarth
Fandom: MCU/Avengers
Summary: Sound out the trumpet noise

hey ho, so it goes, the point of sale, the puppet show
the merchant kings of war and woe have turned their hands to labor

So, hearts …

So many people’s hearts all over the place.

This show really is about relationships. I’m still not sure how well this is translating. A) I’m watching the original on Hulu and it is SO VERY different and rings all of my nostalgia bells. 2) There are behaviors that resonant, for me, more with what you encounter in a YA scenario than an adult one. Max’s reckless confessions to Liz, showing her all the things like immediately and giving up Isabel and Michael in the process made more sense when they were sixteen year olds than it does in this iteration of the show. BUT!!!!! Those were also all the things that we loved about Max and Liz. The immediate connection, which is definitely being framed here. I do love that in the Pilot, Liz pumps the breaks on the progression of the relationship because she does realize that what she is experiencing via the hand print is may be Max’s feelings and not necessarily her own. That idea gets revisited in Episode 2 and then turned on its head at the end of the episode.

( Spoilers – You know the drill! )

To be fair, I don't know how objective I can be about the CW "reboot" of Roswell. The original series was one of my first fandoms. I wrote my first crappy fanfic about the tragic love affair of Max Evans and Liz Parker. Hulu is streaming the original series, so if you haven't seen it, you might want to do yourself the favor. It's silly and cheesy at times, but it's also the ultimate story of star crossed lovers. Acting is solid (hey, Katherine Hiegl totes got her start here plus there's William Sadler). There's a lot of angst and drama and chemistry between all of the cast ... perfect for a show set in a high school. And, I loved it.

Roswell, New Mexico has fast forwarded the series and the characters are now 10 years out of high school. There's obviously going to be tons of drama and angst, but outside of the political commentary surrounding immigration and illegal aliens (an easy and understandable target given the show's setting and the current political climate). Whether all of those things will work well together filtered through the prism of a story originally crafted around high schoolers remains to be seen. So far Roswell, Mexico is lacking the sweet, easy charm of Roswell, the palpable sense of yearning and loneliness in the beginning, the awesome sense of camraderie and relationship that was demonstrated at jump street.. Still, there are things that this new iteration does right (or at least well):

( Spoilers Behind the Cut )
We'll see hos this grittier, aged up version of Roswell goes. I'm open to it. Why not?

Inspired by how much I enjoyed the film Crazy Rich Asians, I selected China Rich Girlfriend for my home commute. It was a great, if uneven, read. There were a lot of characters and storylines in China Rich Girlfriend, enough that I want to go back and actually read Crazy Rich Asians because the movie has a pretty narrow throughline in the narrative revolving around Nick Young and Rachel Chu. China Rich Girlfriend, on the other hand, rotationally focuses on five different women: Rachel Chu (now Young), Bao Shaoyen, Colette Bing, Astrid Teo, and (the infamous) Kitty Pong. Each woman is in a different place in her life and relationships, and I love that we get to see so many different facets of life in the book (even if they are all focused on the top 1%).

China Rich Girlfriend is a whirlwind of jet-setting name-dropping intrigue. The crazy rich dropping stupid amounts of cash because they can. There's an interesting reflection that happens about 70% of the way in where the slightly buffonish parents of the young noveau riche come into contention with their spoiled and self-absorbed offspring that I quite enjoyed.

From this book to the first movie, China Rich Girlfriend isn't as good as Crazy Rich Asians and I blame it on the structure. The way that the storylines are sometimes intertwined, but very often glance off each other in only the most superficial way makes it like an odd conglomeration of intertwined short stories. I still enjoyed it thoroughly because you really are getting a glimpse into a world that is vastly different from the average persons in terms of class, but also (and perhaps more importantly) due to ethnicity. The struggle between tradition and modernity between parents and child, as well as the constant competition that exists between socialites as they leverage their wealth to jockey for social position was fascinating and, frankly, very juicy. How true to life the book is, really, is anyone's guess, but it makes for fun reading.

The only other downside for me were the twists at the ending. Although exciting, for sure, Rachel and Colette's 180 came way out of left field. Without giving anything away, part of that equation was a trick ending set-up to look like something else entirely. The second part, and the deeply satisfying smackdown that resulted, was, in its own way, expected but also out of character for what we had seen in the novel to that point. And then there was poor Kitty Pong whose entire storyline was shoe horned in around the edges of the book.

The audiobook was ably read by Lydia Look. The voices were distinctive and mostly consistent. I loved all the sotto voce footnotes.

I enjoyed the book thoroughly and if they finally get the movie produced, I will be excited to see it.

runpunkrun is having a fantastically interesting conversation about terminology in fandom by age demographic.

It struck a chord with me because I keep seeing this term headcanon and two people have used it in comments to fic I posted at AO3. I find it curious because in both cases, for me, the scenarios are not head canon. They are AU's taking a left at canon. Headcanon to me (that turned into fanon after awhile, I think) is Buffy always smelling like vanilla. It's true in my head and always shall be so! Fic is so often AU which is just an alternative to the canon. Using the word canon suggests a concrete idea of what something is or should be. And AU's are explorations from a point in canon. Naming something a head canon then, for me, suggests a personal understanding of events that will not change from how I perform the intersection between the source and fandom. Like how no matter what I write about Buffy, she always smells like vanilla (even when it's mixed in with the scent of dirt or blood).

My favorite headcanon is actually a post-series canon. One Thousand Kisses Deep was a fic that I wrote about the end of the slayers and that, to me, is how the series ends. It's obviously an AU from Chosen, but if I had my way that is a narrative end that makes sense.

Title: sharp memories, faded and soft
Author: seraphcelene
Email: seraphcelene[at]gmail[dot]com
Spoilers: TWD - 4.13: Alone
Rating: PG-13 for themes and language
Feedback: Is like air and highly addictive. In other words, yes, please.
Disclaimer: The Walking Dead belong to Robert Kirkman, AMC, and other people who are not me. This fic is for fun and not profit. I'm just taking them out for a little exercise.
Warning: LANGUAGE!
Summary: "His mama singing Que Sera, Sera and Dream a Little Dream along with the radio. Sometimes Ella Fitzgerald while she flips pancakes and the sun shines in through the window over the sink." Once upon a time, even Daryl Dixon had a childhood. Pre-Walking Dead dream-memory set during 4.13 - Alone. or read on AO3


Beth picks out a song on the piano, slow, easy and low as the candlelight. Daryl lays back in the coffin, soft, white, and thinks of all the ways that he could have died before now. He pretends to be asleep, watches her through the tangle of his hair.

She's all the light in the world rounded up and siphoned into a girl he knows he ain't got no business looking at. Pretty and surprisingly clean, like dirt don't stick to her. Looking down at his shirt, at his hands and the unnamed dark crammed beneath his nails, it seems like dirt ain't got nothin' better to do than to stick to Daryl Dixon.

He wipes his hands on his shirt and not a lick changes.

Merle would say something slick and mean and crude and Daryl can feel the heat rising in his face at the thought.

And then maybe he really does fall asleep, chewing on the edge of his thumb nail, Beth's voice, sweet and soft, follows him down into his dreams.
( Read more... )

I found myself sitting through the first episode of Hulu's The Handmaid's Tale on Sunday afternoon, and in an unexpected confluence of the stars, the following Wednesday I stumbled on a Yale Courses lecture on YouTube about Queer Theory and Gender Performativity which reminded me of my affection for the theories of one Judith Butler. It's an interesting bit of timing that one thing happened and then the other, but definitely fitting as my thoughts upon listening to the lecture immediately had me circling how ideas of gender and sex have been appropriated and re-written in The Handmaid's Tale, and how survival in this universe requires unflagging commitment to performing an identity that has absolutely nothing to do with the individual and everything to do with a prescribed archetype created for the benefit of the top 1% of the population. In other words, it's like real life!

Elizabeth Moss is gold in the performance and the running interior monologue throughout the episode beautifully depicts the duality of June as Offred (reality vs function), offering entre into the world and creating immediate empathy or the character. It also provided quite a bit of backstory quickly and efficiently, highlighted Offred's peril, and ratcheted up the tension while maintaining the calm, orderly yet sinister veneer that Gilead is working so hard to maintain. Without that I never would have made it through the hour and trust me when I say that there were moments when I was ready to call it a day. My commitment to watching THMT flagged considerably at times and I was convinced that I wasn't going to be able to watch this series, except that a wealth of friends advised me that it's worth watching. The advice, offered consistently by everyone: don't try and binge it.
( My name is Offred. I had another name, but it's forbidden now. So many things are forbidden now. )

This vid hit me in all the good feels. So much joy and total adoration. It reminds me of how much I loved fandom and how much I miss being part of it. Gwyn has a very deft hand with pacing and cuts, and the vid features so many awesome fandoms. I smiled throughout.

Happy Friday, fandom!

The radio aches a little tune that tells a story of what the night
is thinking. It's thinking of love.
It's thinking of stabbing us to death
and leaving our bodies in a dumpster.
That's a nice touch, stains in the night, whiskey and kisses for everyone."
- Little Beast

My very first experience with Ricard Siken was part 24 of You Are Jeff, the penultimate poem in this collection. It is a perfect excision of all of the things that Siken excels at - poetry as sublime, but with a grounded rawness that makes it all too real. Reading You Are Jeff sent me on a hunt for Crush and inspired expectations that were easily met by the gorgeous collection that Siken pulled together.

Crush is everything! Desperate and needy, as much blunt force trauma as it is delicate and subtle. Siken draws threads together, weaving a tapestry of human emotion. The poetry is at times opaque and insists upon the readers complete focus and dedication to puling apart those threads, and at others it is gorgeously simple and utterly truthful. There are layers and layers of meaning that reflect the complexity of love, identity, and heartbreak. It tackles self destruction, the tragedy of pinning down and freely expressing sexual identity in a hostile culture, the devastating strangeness of finding love and losing it - as well as the spare, elegant place between the two moments, the questions of how do you know, and the terror of reaching out. There is nothing easy about Crush and I love that about it