The 2024 Haybarn Reunion! This will dominate my day.

The wife is a regular bingo player and this is her / our favorite bingo hall. She plays regularly, but I usually go only once per year: to this Annual Haybarn Reunion.

We'll want to be there by 3:30 PM to get in when the doors open, and we'll probably stay until nearly midnight. Any personal chores, chess work, or correspondence will need to be taken care of this morning.

Wish us luck!

posted Saturday 04/May/2024 ~06:45 #QNMAY2024

Αγαπητέ διαβάτη,

Εάν ο δρόμος σου έχει για σταθμό την Λέρο, αξίζει τον κόπο να επισκεφτείς το Δρακοντόσπηλο! Με αυτήν την ονομασία θα βρεις το μεγαλύτερο φυσικό σπήλαιο της Λέρου, στην περιοχή Σκοινόντων, ανηφορίζοντας σε μια απόσταση διακοσίων μέτρων από την εκκλησία του Αγ. Σπυρίδωνα. Την ονομασία του προφανώς την οφείλει σε ένα τεράστιο φίδι που φώλιαζε πολύ παλαιοτέρα μέσα σε αυτό. Αυτό και άλλα πολλά καταγράφει ο Δ. Οικονομόπουλος το 1888 όταν είχε επισκεφτεί για πρώτη φορά το νησί μας. Λέγεται βέβαια από πολύ παλαιότερους, ότι εδώ πρέπει να ζούσε το μεγάλο φίδι Δράκος! Ήταν όπως λένε, γιος της Γαίας. Το ερπετό αυτό ζευγάρωσε με μια κοπέλα η οποία επισκεπτόταν συχνά το ιερό δάσος της Θέας Αρτέμιδος. Η εξερεύνηση αυτού του σπηλαίου, θα είναι για όλους εσάς μια μοναδική εμπειρία και περιπέτεια.

Οι πρώτες αναφορές για το σπήλαιο έρχονται από προηγούμενους αιώνες, τότε που οι μαύροι πειρατές ήταν ο φόβος και ο τρόμος των νησιών μας. Πολύ αργότερα, ο συγγραφέας, υποναύαρχος ALDO LEVI, αναφέρει στο βιβλίο «Γεγονότα στο Αιγαίο», ότι κατά τους βομβαρδισμούς του 1943 οι Ιταλοί αφού πρώτα έκτισαν έναν πετρόκτιστο ντουβάρι στην είσοδο, μετέφεραν τα πυρομαχικά τους σε αυτό το φυσικό σπήλαιο, μιας και από αέρος ήταν αδύνατη η ανίχνευση του, λόγω του ότι δεκάδες τεράστια βράχια είναι μπροστά από την σπήλια.

Ένα δημιούργημα της φύσης για το οποίο ίσως κάποτε ενδιαφερθεί η αρχαιολογική σκαπάνη, έτσι που από τα τυχαία ευρήματα θα ανασύρουν στην επιφάνεια το καλά κρυμμένο μυστικό αυτού του ιδιαίτερου σπηλαίου! Μια από τις προηγούμενες ηλιόλουστες ημέρες λοιπόν, μου ζήτησαν κάποιοι φίλοι, άνθρωποι που μεταφέρουν την ιστορία στους νέους, να τους πάω να δουν το Δρακοντόσπηλο από κοντά. Εγώ βέβαια, δεν άνοιξα ποτέ καμιά συζήτηση για το τεράστιο φίδι Δράκο, που ακόμα και σήμερα φημολογείται ότι πρέπει να είναι εκεί γύρω. Λένε ότι έχει συνηθίσει τους ανθρώπους και μάλλον τους αποφεύγει…! Και κάπως έτσι κτίζεται η ιστορία αυτού του πανέμορφου κατά τα αλλά σπηλαίου.

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Συλλογή φωτογραφιών ΕΔΩ

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#AtheatiLeros #ΑθέατηΛέρος #Λέρος #Λερος #Greece #Leros #LerosHistory #Hellas #Ελλάς #Ελλάδα #ΜυθικάΌντα #Μύθοι

My god. 3 Kendrick tracks within 3 days. This is a genuine heaven for me. Dear lord, I’m glad Kdot came out swinging for 0 reason on “like that”. But also thank GOD because I’ve BEEN a Drake slanderer, his team makes good music, but he has no credibility as an artist and it’s insane for him to be saying he’s even in the contention for greatest rapper.

R – 3 breaths

E – I felt very weak today, and I overall just felt shitty at the gym and unhappy with myself.

S – Recognize the limitations of my body and the variability of things, and forgive myself a bit more.

T – Accept that I’m not like freakishly weaker, I just slept barely anything last night, just am coming out of a cut, and also have had a very randomly sporadic workout schedule.

It may have been a mistake to work for 10 hours straight today, spine not quite working.

But at least I got 14 pages of PROJECT OLDBOOK done. Will be satisfied if I can push it to 20/day. Not today or this weekend though, I'm on daddy duty.

#journal

Any other bloggers out there ever wake up on the day you normally post new content and realize “Damn, I haven't written a single word all week.” Yeah? Me too.

When I first started this endeavor, I had a small stack of posts pre-written and a list of ideas. I did this because I wanted to ensure that I never felt rushed to publish new content.

I've long since ran through that stack of pre-written posts, but I do write every week. I do still have quite a lengthy list of topics I want to write about. Many will require a bit of research on my part and probably be lengthier than what I can smash out in a week, especially if I want the writing to be anywhere near coherent.

I do try to spend a little time each morning writing, but some days I wake up a bit late, or the coffee doesn't kick in soon enough before I'm wrestling kids out of bed to shuttle them off to school.

When I miss my chance to write in the morning life usually gets in the way of me writing in the evening. Being tired from work. Cooking dinner. Wrestling the kids back into bed. Showering. Sleeping.

As such, there are times, like today, when I have to try and get something written down. Put my thoughts out into the world, even if I haven't been preparing all week.

I've set a weekly post schedule for myself, and I want to stick with it. So this, my adoring reader, is what you get.

A stream of consciousness posting about my poor writing habits.

Until next week.

#blog

#musings

Friday 03/May/2024

Prayers, etc.: • 05:00 – Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel • 06:00 – the Angelus • 07:00 – The SORROWFUL MYSTERIES of the Holy Rosary. Followed by The Memorare. • 07:30 – watching Nobody Ever 'Embraced the Modernizing Tide' followed by Francis Spews His Frightening New Religion at Chosen Priests – Canon212 • 08:00 – Did 🇺🇸 Congress BAN the NEW TESTAMENT? – Dr. Taylor Marshall Podcast • 12:00 – the Angelus • 13:15 – Thought for today from Archbishop Lefebvre: In the Eucharist is the Victim who was nailed to the cross. It is something that completely redefines our life because in receiving our Lord, as all the spiritual authors say, it is not He who is transformed into us but it is we who are transformed into Him. • 18:00 – the Angelus • 20:20 – The hour of Compline for tonight according to the Traditional Pre-Vatican II Divine Office, followed by Fr. Chad Rippberger's Prayer of Command to protect my family, my sons, my daughter and her family, my granddaughters and their families, my great grandchildren, and everyone for whom I have responsibility from any demonic activity. – And that followed by the Friday Prayers of the Association of the Auxilium Christianorum.

Health Metrics: • bw= 221.20 lbs. • bp= 142/82 (59)

Diet: • 05:45 – ½ pb&j sandwich • 08:30 – snack on cheese • 10:30 – snack on raisins • 11:30 – Mongolian beef lunch, steamed rice, egg drop soup, chips and dip • 15:45 – hash browns, biscuits and jam, sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes & syrup

Chores, etc.: • 05:00 – listen to local news talk radio • 06:15 – bank accounts activity monitored • 11:30 – watch old episodes of Wheel of Fortune and eat lunch at home with Sylvia • 13:00 – tuned into the Cubs / Brewers warmup show, their MLB game starts in 20 min • 16:00 – local news and weather • 16:30 – watching Jeopardy • 17:00 – load freezer with a month's worth of groceries • 17:30 – cut my hair • 18:30 – Wheel of Fortune • 19:00 – listening to The Lars Larson Show • 19:30 – switched to easy listening radio

Chess: • 10:45 – moved in all pending CC games

posted Friday 03/May/2024 ~20:45 #DLMAY2024

To be honest, being a low BF% fucking sucks. Everything is way more defined and all that but I feel so fucking weak. What's the point of looking muscular, I'd rather be violently strong. I felt a bit disgusted with myself today because I had to drop my weight drastically for bench. I just couldn't do 185x10 for 5 sets. Hell I couldn't do it for 3. Old me would have loved that but present me hates it.

I saw someone leg pressing 5 plates and it wasnt even bad ROM. Comparison really is the thief of joy.

In the least concerning way possible, today became one of those days where I just want to feel pain. I kinda get it now; I guess I feel like if I can control and get used to physical pain then I can control mental pain. I've liked the idea of conditioning, I know my shins hurt a lot and MMA people condition them, so it doubles as making me feel more powerful. I ended up settling for pushing myself harder right now. I always err on the side of caution because I've hurt myself several times before, but today I just kept reminding myself of what I was sick of.

Late-afternoon Friday and all is well in the Roscoe-verse.

One chore I'd set for today remains undone: cutting my hair (shaving my head). I may take care of that this evening, or I may wait until tomorrow morning. Decisions, decisions...

posted Friday, May 3, 2024 at 4:20 PM #QNMAY2024

As if Israel/Palestine stuff wasn't enough, today's headlines:

• US issues dire warning to Taiwan about potential China/Russia threat.

• US Intel Chief: China building huge network of satellites that could be used against US troops.

• Russian troops enter US military base in Niger amid rising tensions.

On a somewhat lighter note: Entertainment made by North Korea | Five-hour (!) Youtube video that is incredibly informative and at times hilarious even.

#journal #news #research

He threw a handful of powder into the lake.

Cops?

He looked over his shoulder at her, he was crying.

Oh shit, I thought you were dumping drugs.

Sad frog face.

Damn man, I'm sorry.

He turned to face her, a small gray stone container in one hand, its cap in the other, clenched in fists.

Hey bro don't look at me like that, are you even allowed

He put both arms over the fence and pulled himself over one leg at a time. Before his second foot hit the ground she was running up the hill, help

He moved fast but she was an elliptical girl.

A man seated in his car on his telephone, she pounded the glass, help me.

He looked up just in time to see her head pulled back by the hair and then slammed into the window, blood spreading out from her nose and mouth, a tooth poking through the lip.

He started the car and backed out, swung sideways and the other man dragged her out of the way. The car peeled off kicking dust into the air.

He pulled her behind the wide dry tree trunk and out of sight.

She woke up in a structure, concrete floor, misshapen walls made of stone and old concrete. The smell of pee in the air. She felt warm like maybe blood. She looked at herself and her eyes were still clouded from her broken nose, she put her hand to it and it stung, then the wetness hit her again and she looked up and saw him pissing on her.

She pushed herself away from him and he took wide steps to keep up with her, the stream in her hair and running down her side. She pushed herself to her feet at the edge of the wall.

Please

He tried to laugh but his face was all rage.

Why

Because it is the end of the world, his voice picked up as he spoke, building into a shrill scream

She shrieked joining him as he put his hands on her face and smashed her head into the wall until she was unconscious again.

---

She asked for a photo and he sent it and asked if she was going to send one.

She wrote, sure. You look adorable. Accept my request. So I can be able to send you pictures.

Accept what request? And thank you.

That me. She shared a photo and asked, can I know more about you?

Sure, what would you like to know? You look adorable too.

He performed a reverse image search and found an amateur porn model.

Thank you. Anything you feel like sharing with me.

How long have you been doing amateur porn, [name of model whose photo she sent me]?

She unfollowed and then deleted the account.

---

He carried a box of stuffed toys and plastic to his car and put it in the back with the rest of the things he no longer recognized. Drove them to a donation site behind a thrift store where two men unloaded them and tapped his trunk, good to go.

When he returned he put in the compact disc and a song began playing. It was a bit robotic, a snare drum tapping away like a metronome, organ producing long notes, a woman singing in a sultry semi whisper, a slide guitar replying to the bass guitar notes.

He was almost finished with the three remaining boxes in the corner. He built a new one and wrote on the front, donate. Put it next to the one marked keep, it only had a couple items in it. Utility, tools and a belt, a pair of socks.

He pried open the box and there were papers stacked on old binders. He paged through them, school work in handwriting he didn't recognize, couldn't read the cursive. He tossed them in the box marked trash.

He opened a shoe box and there was a watch and a belt, a small container of cologne, and a box with a silver ring with a pink stone. He put them in the donate box.

The next box was square, very old and flimsy, it had a drawing of a hat on it. When he opened it the smell of pipe smoke hit him and he recognized the pipe carousel.

Grandpa, he said.

He pinched his ear and put pressure on his neck remembering the old man collapsed in a massive brown leather recliner, the feet up and back tilted next to a window, white gauze curtain, a table with a smoking pipe perched in a holder next to an ash tray and a small pocket knife. A tumbler with ice and scotch in his hand, listening to the radio or the conversation in the kitchen.

The woman speaking in the kitchen handing him objects taking shape, the squirt gun in the box he dropped off that morning. An action figure he put in the trash box because it had been chewed by a dog. The coffee mug on the table next to her that his father handed him when he returned from the trip for the funeral.

He looked around the room frantically, looked at the clock and it was late at night, he looked at his phone and the thrift store was closed. He paced and walked from the box with the pipes to the box marked trash, rubbing the back of his ear, gripping the chewed action figure. He looked in the closet and pulled the plastic gun case down from the top shelf, opened it and put the Remember invitation to the side, put the barrel in his mouth and finally found the strength.

---

The block button. Disconnecting the phone, it's off the hook. Sending it to voicemail. Restricted so the conversation doesn't even load, it's somewhere else, you have to search for the person and wait for it to reappear.

Maybe the light will be left on, the door unlocked, I can walk into a warm welcome.

Work, or lack of, is interesting. A few months ago, I decided to quit and live off my savings. I have no immediate plans though occasionally recruiters reach out with some juicy opportunities. Most of LinkedIn inbound is spam but there are some rare gems.

All of the sudden I have nothing to fill my days and must fill them with something else.

I sometimes feel embarrassed of not working tbh. Whenever I hang out with friends I feel there is a stigma that people that don't work are lazy or something, similar to the stigma around gamers.

All of my friends work, and many are super ambitious. It seems the world is a lonely place most days, I don't have anyone to talk to. The grocery stores and shops have very few people, like a ghost town since I go during most people's work hours.

And to be honest, most days are not super productive. Most things take a long time b/c I can afford to not rush now. There's a quote somewhere that work fills the time available, which I heavily relate to now. Laundry, groceries, cleaning, chores, shopping, walking around, eating – even the most mundane tasks now can take over an hour and suddenly the days are really short.

I feel like I'm living less actually, I'm just kind of “alive”, a new kind of zombie...

This week's contributors: Lydia, this week's subjects: The Beat of the Streets, +233 Jazz Club and Grill Kebabs, Smoked Salmon, The Accra Restaurant Market, and More Politics

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The Beat of the Streets: One cannot discuss jazz fashion in Africa without mentioning the vibrant street style that infuses the scene with energy and flair. In cities like Dakar and Addis Ababa, the streets serve as runways where fashion-forward individuals showcase their eclectic ensembles. From bold Ankara prints to sleek Afrocentric silhouettes, African jazz fashion celebrates diversity and individuality. Accessories play a pivotal role in jazz fashion, with statement jewelry, hats, and shoes adding flair to every outfit. Beaded necklaces, traditional kente cloth scarves, and leather brogues are just a few examples of the accessories that jazz aficionados use to express their unique sense of style. Retro Revival: As fashion often does, jazz fashion in Africa has seen a resurgence of retro styles from the mid-20th century. Think sharply tailored suits for men, reminiscent of the iconic jazz musicians of the past, paired with fedoras and wingtip shoes. For women, figure-flattering dresses with artful draping and bold patterns evoke the glamour of bygone eras, while oversized sunglasses and statement headwraps add a contemporary twist. From the sultry elegance of a floor-length gown to the cool sophistication of a tailored suit, and jazz fashion.

+233 Jazz Club and Grill Kebab (Dr. Isert Street, North Ridge, opposite GBC, Accra). I've been having a go at kebabs of late and though my market survey for now is limited to Gold Coast (32 Fifth Avenue Ext. Cantonments, Accra), Ecuyer (Off Ring Road, near Danquah Circle, Osu, Accra), +233, and the guys in my street here in Asylum down opposite the Appolo Theatre. +233 comes out at the top. Big pieces and juicy, choose between chicken, pork, beef, goat, lamb, prawns, and fish.

Smoked salmon is one of the delicacies you may find as a starter in some of our upscale restaurants, and it sounds exotic and expensive. Smoked salmon is healthy, has lots of omega-3 fats, and is high in vitamin D. Note that when we talk of smoked salmon, we mean the European type, our “salmon” is in fact mackerel. These upscale restaurants simply buy the smoked salmon in some of our more upscale supermarkets. Prices vary, one can be more than double the other. Why? Well, there is the quality of the slices, big thick regular slices without bones or gray blemishes or brown areas in it go for more than thin, irregular slices with spots and bones. But the biggest issue is the difference between farmed salmon and wild salmon. Farmed salmon hardly need to swim to get food so have less muscle than the wild ones which have to hunt for food, so the wild ones have a stronger structure, less floppy. On top of that very often the farmed salmon are regularly treated with antibiotics, which you then eat, so eventually you become resistant to antibiotics, often farmed salmon is sick with parasites and they eat only one type of food, so have less taste. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen the wild ones here, so the best is not to order expensive salmon anyway and spend your money on something that is a delicacy like freshly fried keta school boys, smoked mackerel or raw cassava fish. keta school boys (abobie)

smoked mackerel

raw cassava fish

The Accra restaurant market is volatile, with Tomato (Atlantic Tower, Airport Area, Accra), Madam Butterfly (Peter Ala Adjetey Ave, Osu, Accra), and Smoke and Barrel (42 Dade Street, Labone, Accra) having closed their doors recently and the premises either being offered for rental or being bulldozed for something new, and newcomers opening one after the other. My last find was Canoe Beach Sushi and Grill Bar, a seafood restaurant where the Chinese-origin owner or manager Steven Shi claims that he has his own fishing boat which would guarantee fresh fish. You can eat indoors or outdoors. We ordered seafood gyoza (dumplings), Shrimp crackers with salmon salad shrimp crackers with salmon salad, prawn tempura, beef spring rolls, grilled red snapper, and then lamb chops which they didn’t have so we chose grilled tenderloin with red wine and garlic sauce. This last one likely being imported tasted nice but one should not chew too long as then the infamous carton flavour that goes with most imported meats takes over. The beef spring rolls were a bit of a disappointment, but all the fishy stuff was fresh and tasty. Spring Rolls Service was attentive with Steven Shi himself making sure everything goes according to his and the customer's wishes. But bring money, this restaurant is not cheap. Prawn Tempura

More politics. I am suggesting the election slogan: “One man one wheelbarrow” so that everyone can either become a one-man pothole contractor, a male kaya, or a mobile salesman. These wheelbarrows can be manufactured here in Ghana, they don’t need to be imported from China like the furniture in our parliament.

Lydia...

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This is a long, draft post, necessarily incomplete. It was written for an autistic peer who asked, ‘What is NVC?’

When I consider how to answer this question, I believe a concise definition would be helpful. However, I hesitate to offer my interpretation because it's just my perspective, and others might have more valuable insights.

Furthermore, I've found my answers tend to be recursive. As I refine them to improve or explore different aspects, I find another point I want to clarify. Additionally, if I answer simply by saying “it's a way of communicating effectively,” other aspects of NVC might be lost.

I also believe that categorising things can make them seem static or fixed, which can stifle curiosity. For example, many people read Marshall Rosenberg's book “Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life” and believe they “get” NVC. Perhaps they've filed it under “communication tool” or something similar. To a large extent, they'd be accurate.

However, Marshall suggests that NVC has two parts. The first part in his book is perhaps only a page or two long, and the rest describes a syntax and grammar, or method of speaking and listening that supports building shared meaning. This process can be very helpful in working with conflict. It can also support states of mind that are more happy more often, as it helps us identify things we find supportive and make requests to get those needs met.

Therefore, it's tempting to say that NVC is a practice. The first part of NVC is about connection, particularly starting with the intention to connect. Otherwise, NVC becomes like a management training tool and can be ineffective or even dangerous. So, to reiterate, NVC is a practice that supports connection with oneself and others. It's truly next-level when thought of as a practice; the knowledge transforms from reading about a communication tool to a way of connecting with oneself and others.

Others I greatly respect outline part of their answer in terms of a list of NVC axioms and principles. I appreciate this approach.

Still others have explored the connections between NVC, neuroscience, and trauma. I find this work fascinating and powerful, and I can personally attest to how it has increased my capacity for choice. Because ultimately, that's what this work is about: soothing and integrating our trauma so we can be more capable of choice more of the time. Perhaps this helps you see why answering the question “what is NVC” is not trivial!

Yet others explore NVC through the lens of ancient spiritual consciousness, specifically compassion. For them, NVC is perhaps a scaffolding that fosters a way of being that helps us see the humanity in others. This connects to why Marshall chose the name “nonviolent,” even though it seems like an oxymoron. He acknowledges the difficulty with the name and says Gandhi also wrestled with it. Marshall chose the name to connect with others who practise nonviolence and to identify the link between NVC and the work of Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. In that sense, NVC is also a political act, not only in self-emancipation but also in nonviolently supporting change in our encounters with domination culture. However, we tend to avoid overtly naming the last two aspects, perhaps so that NVC can better “fly under the radar.” Interestingly, even large companies have adopted NVC, not only because it helps their employees live more fulfilling lives and have less conflict in the workplace but also to better understand their customers' needs.

There are also those who identify other influences on Marshall's work, such as Thomas Szasz. His book “The Myth of Mental Illness” raises many questions about framing mental health as a disease. As an autistic person, I strongly resonate with this perspective! Additionally, others identify the influence of Paolo Freire, whose methods are built into NVC. These methods aim to raise critical consciousness in people through problem-posing pedagogy, as documented in his book “The Pedagogy of the Oppressed.” So, in this sense, NVC is an emancipatory practice.

Returning to the beginning, another answer I like is that NVC is a language of feelings and needs. By learning to identify feelings, we literally grow neural pathways that increase our capacity to sense how we are in each moment. Our feelings let us know when our needs are being met or unmet. The idea of needs is that all living things have needs, and there is a universal set of human needs. By naming our needs, we can better strategise how to get them met.

Some situate NVC as being about empathy, which involves being able to hear the feelings and needs of another person, as well as self-empathy, which is being able to hear our own feelings. Again, this is a skill that can be nurtured through practice. We know Marshall was taught by Carl Rogers at Stanford, and Rogers said that “empathy feels damn good.” So in this sense, NVC is best experienced.

And I hope that I've offered some insight into why filing NVC under a category of ‘communication tool’, might be a very limited strategy.

The next question might be: “Okay, how can I start this practice?” Unfortunately, I can't provide a helpful answer in a general sense, partly because it is a personal journey, and partly because it will be the subject of a future post.

NVC and Neurodiversity

Currently, I'm offering spaces on a research project that will give neurodiverse peers a taste of the experience of empathy. From running numerous pilots, I'm aware that many people didn't attend my Empathy Cafe Autscape23 because of the word “empathy.” As an autistic person myself, I've been impacted by the work of Simon Baron-Cohen, who contributed to the myth that autistic people lack empathy. This is clearly very wrong and damaging, as lacking empathy situates autistic peers as less human.

Lastly, I've also been affected by the pain that people carry around who identify as having alexithymia. They've been impacted by others who share NVC, practise NVC, or “use” NVC in a way that demands they access their feelings. While I have no doubt that some people might be unable to do so, I'm increasingly confident that the practice of NVC can support us in nurturing a capacity to identify and be more aware of our feelings more easily. Neuroscience tells us that trauma necessarily disconnects us from our feelings, which makes sense as an excellent survival tool. Thus, for many people, a large part of their NVC practice involves working with trauma. This is especially important in a culture that not only contributes to trauma but also models stoicism (think Pop Culture Detective”) or Jedi). Furthermore, our culture has largely and radically removed our communities, our tribes, which we likely evolved to be connected with. So, being in a situation of individuation removes the environment in which we evolved to support our working with trauma, grief, or even joy. Marshall Rosenberg suggests that through this practice, we might transform our capacity to feel from being akin to a bugle to being an orchestra. Therefore, might nurturing a capacity to feel be a radical political act?

So, I hope this gives you some understanding of why I find my NVC practice so valuable and why I'm keen to share it with others, especially my neurodiverse peers. I'm incredibly curious about whether it supports others in the way that it has supported me. My experiences of trauma, especially as a neurodiverse person, contributed to me showing up in very reactive ways, particularly when I was low on spoons or people didn't share my understandings. What has piqued my curiosity about NVC and neurodiversity is twofold: firstly, that I have to self-advocate less now, especially in NVC spaces. Secondly, the fact that this is true makes me curious about the apparent overlaps between NVC culture and autistic spaces – but that's a topic for another blog post. And, similarly with Marshall Rosenberg himself, there's merit in questioning whether he himself was neurodivergent.

There are few more points, and thats enough for now!

Kind of a twist on the found footage genre, since it’s ostensibly a “lost” tape of the last broadcast (see what I did there?) of a national late night TV show.

First of all, the performances are great: David Dastmalchian is both charming and slightly off-putting as the host, Ian Bliss is a delight as an arrogant, showboating magician-turned-professional skeptic, Rhys Auteri plays the long-suffering sidekick with just the perfect amount of supressed rage, and Ingrid Torellis is fantastic as Lilly, which is good because the entire movie depends on her performance.

It just makes such a difference when everyone in a horror movie can act. No weak links in this cast. The script is good too—not just another version of something we’ve seen a million times, but a pretty fresh twist on both found footage and demonic possession. You know what else I liked? The filmmakers drop some information early on, and I was pretty sure this was going to come out later in the movie as a Big Reveal, but, in fact, they trusted that their audience had seen enough horror movies to draw their own conclusions, and it wasn’t necessary to construct a big reveal on those points! I cannot stress enough how rare this is.

Also good—the movie captures the 70’s atmosphere perfectly, in everything from the look and feel to the show to the creepy kid, which was a strong trope in 70’s horror cinema. So far so good, and I enjoyed watching it.

I do of course have 2 quibbles. The first involves spoilers, so skip the next paragraph if you want to avoid them.

Okay, so Carmichael Haig has a rational explanation for everything, but then his rational explanation for the…initial event with Lilly is involuntary mass hypnosis, which he then demonstrates? Nah. Not buying it. I mean, I could buy it from another movie, but it seemed to violate the movie’s internal logic and therefore seemed like a cheesy development.

And, perhaps more importantly, the filmmakers made their own deal with the devil by using AI-generated, or, more simply, plagiarized, images on some of the “more to come” and “be right back” title cards that come up on commercial breaks. I mean, the title cards did help build the 70’s atmosphere (much as the non-AI-generated ones on Hanging With Dr. Z do), but why involve the Automated Plagiarism Machine on something a human graphic designer could do easily? It’s not like this was a low-budget production, by horror standards. Dumb, shitty decision. I knew this going in to the movie and so obviously didn’t boycott it as a result, but it’s actually mystifying to me why they did this unless it was simply to get us used to machine-plagiarized art in movies so they can phase out real artists in the future.

#review #movie #horror #shudder

7:40 am, another dark stormy morning. Jumping right back into PROJECT OLDBOOK first thing. About 90 pages to go, need to work round the clock if I want to be done with it in the next few days.

Won't be able to slide back into TSG until this is out of the way.

#journal