My First Sip of Absinthe: ‘Moulin Rouge,’ The Green Fairy and My Delusional Pursuit of Free-Spiritedness – Paste Magazine

As a teenager, I was much like I am as an adult, which is to say, anxious. There are times, perhaps few and far between, when my anxiety has faltered, leaving me for hours, days, sometimes even weeks at a time feeling generally relaxed and uninhibited, enough to make friends and alert the followers of my social media accounts that I do, sometimes, leave the desk in the corner of my tiny apartment. But these moments where my anxiety takes a backseat have been hard won after years of therapy and forcing myself out of my comfort zone.

I didnt think it would be that much of a challenge. The teenaged version of myself imagined that, at some point, without much effort on my part, I would magically shed the layer of existential dread that clung to the corners of my life like cobwebs and Id be able to welcome people into my inner world and show them around without them whispering to each other about the dilapidated state of the place. I dont know where I got this misguided idea, but it was likely from all the movies I watched that starred self-assured young people, a class of humans Im not entirely sure even exists in the real world.

At 16 years old, my favorite movie of them all was Moulin Rouge, every Millennial angsty art teens go-to watch for old-timey, sepia-toned substance abuse, fornication and general degeneracy. My favorite scenes all took place in the first half of the movie, when the dancing, the drinking, the raucousness was still taking place. I conveniently avoided the second half of the movie, when Satine falls ill and everything falls to shit. Had I watched this part, maybe I would have taken an important lesson about the ills of excess away from it. Instead, after watching the scene where the artists drink absinthe and apparently hallucinate a green fairy seducing them to the party that rages in the city they overlook, my only thought was, That looks fun.

From that moment on, I knew I wanted to try absinthe. But considering I was only 16 at that point, it took me a few years before I finally got the opportunity to try it. One of my best friends from college lives in Brussels, and she invited me to stay with her a few years ago. Brussels is home to Floris Bar, a famous absinthe bar right next to the equally famous Delirium Caf. The bar boasts over 600 types of absinthe, so I imagined there would be no shortage of raucousness.

Granted, I was in my mid-20s at that point and had already made my way through a few dark, alcohol-fueled years of college and come out the other side appropriately jaded about nightlife and unbridled hedonism. But still, I wasnt prepared for the quiet, almost empty bar we entered. It felt cool and hushed, and once we ordered our absinthes and watched them being prepared in their special way with the saturated sugar cube, I drank mine, experienced the touch of licorice the drink is known for and then nothing. No sudden urge to seize the night or go on a drunken romp around the city. Rather, we went to Delirium, drank a few beers and made it back to my friends apartment on the other side of the city by midnight.

I had waited for my first sip of absinthe for so many years, but by the time I had finally gotten it, I had lost most of my childlike optimism that these novel, one-off experiences could be revelatory or even life-changing. Id already discovered that even the seemingly significant lessons Id felt Id learned from experiences that felt transformative at the time soon faded once I was yet again faced with the normal, boring intricacies of reality. And still. There was some hope that the first sip of absinthe could give me a glimpse of the free-spirited version of myself I so longed to be at 16.

As I returned to my friends apartment that night, I was awash with some version of all my usual anxieties: Was I doing a good enough job at work? Had the man I was texting back home responded to me yet? Had I remembered to check in for my return flight? Was my mom, my dad, my brother, my cat okay? The soundtrack of my worries, almost always playing in the background, maintained its steady beat despite the absinthe running through my veins, and I thought of Moulin Rouge and how, in the end, Ewan McGregor finally has something to write about because Satine has (spoiler alert) died. The absinthe wasnt really a part of the inspiration anyway, and his younger selfs free-spiritedness was just a reflection of his naivety and youth. Or something like that.

I fell asleep feeling glad I had waited a decade to try absinthe for the first time after learning about it from the movie. I think I wouldve been more disappointed at 16.

Samantha Maxwell is a food writer and editor based in Boston. Follow her on Twitter at @samseating.

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My First Sip of Absinthe: 'Moulin Rouge,' The Green Fairy and My Delusional Pursuit of Free-Spiritedness - Paste Magazine

Forget the likes of Will Smith. Audiences are also behaving badly – The Guardian

This is not about Will Smith slapping Chris Rock at the Oscars last month. Nobody needs to read more about that. Its swimming in cold water, its how good Succession is: we know, so why hasnt anyone mentioned it before?

But that one rash moment and its afterlife is part of a bigger picture, a sense that something is not quite as it was. Last week, the Hollywood Reporter revealed that the organisers of the Tony awards, the New York ceremony that recognises excellence in Broadway theatre, sent an email revealing they now have a policy for dealing with violent incidents: In the event of an incident, the perpetrator will be removed from the event immediately.

The Tonys, back for the first time since 2020 and celebrating its 75th year, draws no direct connection between this and Smiths actions in March, but surely this has to be the first time that an entertainment awards ceremony has needed to explicitly state that youre not allowed to perpetrate an act of violence while clapping for Moulin Rouge! The Musical.

This protocol is aimed at an audience largely made up of professionals; while I have witnessed how heated feelings can become over whether this or that person more deserved their shiny trophy, the idea that there has to be a plan now for dealing with the possibility of that spilling over into violence is odd, isnt it?

Live entertainment in all forms, cut off during the pandemic, given little support in this country by the government, is now attempting to scratch and claw its way back in a near-impossible landscape. The audiences that feel brave enough to attend events may find themselves in a different world. Comedians talk about a mood shift, post-lockdowns, with audiences behaving badly; last week, Nish Kumar spoke of racist hecklers at his stand-up shows and said other comedians agree that theres something in the water. In an Instagram video, the musician Adrianne Lenker, of the brilliant band Big Thief, said: Try to be mindful of whats happening and pay attention and dont talk.

Trying to manage an audiences behaviour is difficult. It exists on a sliding scale: a sign requesting that a crowd does not take photographs is not the same as an artist berating an audience for not clapping loudly enough, which I have seen before. But after a period away, this seems like a period of great readjustment, in which everyone is trying to find their feet. At least, that is one way to see it, if you want to remain hopeful.

I have written before about how television became a comfort blanket for many over the course of the pandemic, and those big event series such as Bake Off and Strictly were particularly soothing.

On a personal level, Id add MasterChef to that, and MasterChef: The Professionals, although if the former doesnt implement a ban on fondant potatoes in the early rounds soon, I may switch off in protest (its the new scallops, black pudding and pea puree).

Monica Galetti, the tough but fair judge on The Professionals, whose praise is usually the hardest earned but the most valued, announced last week that she is leaving the show, after 14 years. It is with a heavy heart that I have made this decision to step back from filming this years series of MasterChef: The Professionals, she said, though the this years series allowed for a little sliver of hope that she might return one day. She explained that she felt unable to balance filming the show with her family life and her London restaurant. Those in the hospitality industry know just how tough it is at the moment, she said.

There is something sturdy about MasterChef and its offshoots. It is a reliable perennial, despite the odd attempt to tweak the format, and newcomers to food TV, such as Gordon Ramsays bizarre Future Food Stars, just cannot compete with its familiar elegance. Monica leaving The Professionals is like Oti leaving Strictly or Mary Berry, Mel and Sue walking away from the Bake Off. It feels like more than just a personnel rotation and I hope that she comes back soon.

I have never been to the New York International Antiquarian Book Fair, taking place this weekend, though I am imagining it as a kind of Glastonbury for bibliophiles, with all the hedonism yet none of the regrets. The star of this years fair, the Pyramid stage headliner, if you will, is Charlotte Bront, played in the film To Walk Invisible by Finn Atkins, right. In 1829, nearly two decades before she would write Jane Eyre, a 13-year-old Bront compiled A Book of Ryhmes [sic], a handwritten collection of 10 of her poems, sewn into a miniature book, a little smaller than a deck of cards.

It is reassuring that even one of the most celebrated authors of all time could not spell rhyme correctly and I love the teenage petulance of its title page: Sold by nobody and printed by herself, she wrote. The sold by nobody is no longer the case. Last Thursday, it reportedly sold for $1.25m (973,500) to a private collector. This beats the highest price previously paid for a printed work by a woman of $1.17m, for a first edition of Frankenstein in 2021. Funnily enough, that is about what I would pay someone not to read my attempts at writing poetry as a teenager.

Rebecca Nicholson is an Observer columnist

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Forget the likes of Will Smith. Audiences are also behaving badly - The Guardian

The New Twinning Trend: Finding Connection Through Fashion – ELLE

SHARIF HAMZA/Trunk Archive

Scrolling through the Instagram account @starterpacksofnyc feels like flipping through a pack of trading cards, except instead of stats, each archetype comes with outfits and drink orders. Resist all you want, but youll likely identify with one of the curated personalities on the feed. There I was in the binder, I realized: shearling-wearing, whole milkdrinking, Balthazar-dining, Lana Del Reylistening, cozy-inclined woman.

But its not shade. The account isnt mocking the circles that it spoofs. The comments dont suggest offense so much as delighted acknowledgment by fellow teammates. Why, in an era that places so much emphasis on unfettered self-expression, do we find such contrarian joy in looking like others? People are happy to feel seen and be part of a cultural conversation, even if its not an entirely flattering one, says the accounts founder, Sasha Mutchnik. And weve been programmed to define ourselves by what we wear and buy.... So while it may seem counterintuitive, in our hyper-individualized world, to want to admit a collection of six to eight items is literally me, its a way of saying youre a part of a group, and are, by extension, normal.

Christian Vierig/Getty Images

What starts as mere twinning expands into connection in a disconnected time. After a period of not being able to reach out and touch each other, now were just a shared link away from embracing in matching clothes. We can lie on our separate beds, but stare into the same glowing light of our phones, learn the same skin care routines, order from the same vintage stores, watch the same showsand then emerge into the real world and discuss those things with each other, while also looking like each other.

Sameness is no longer a tabooits a form of bonding.

The runways arent immune from this effect. Pradas spring 2022 collection took place in both Milan and Shanghaiat the exact same time. Guests in both cities watched outfits come down the catwalk as their halfway-across-the-planet counterparts were projected onscreen. As cocreative director Raf Simons explained in the shows press notes, Its about sharingnot just sharing imagery, not just sharing through technology, but sharing a physical event. Meanwhile, twinfluencers Hope and Grace Fly and Reese and Molly Blutstein make showing up to Fashion Week in coordinating looks a virtue, not a gaffe.

FELICITY INGRAM/Trunk Archive

There is a sense that similar gates are being opened everywhere, resulting in a mass decentralization of style. Mine is yours, yours is mine, and this whole planet is ours to match on. Influencers painstakingly credit their outfits so you too can get the look (and they can get the affiliate revenue). Newsletters like Jonah Weiner and Erin Wylies Blackbird Spyplane provide friendly sartorial suggestions for their thousands of readers. The common thread is generosity: indulging in the bounty of options, together. Sameness is no longer a tabooits a form of bonding.

Tyler Joe

My friend Krithika Varagur had a group text with fellow wearers of a specific snap cardigan. When she made friends with another aficionado of the Agnes B. style, We immediately felt simpatico in some vague but visceral way that I think was related to our wardrobe choices. (I thought about whether Id be more inclined to trust someone with my secrets if I could trust their taste in knits.) Bonding over having similar style is what brought me to a lot of my most beloved friends, says Avina Patel from the Twitter account @warmtoned. I feel relieved knowing someone else shares an indulgence I do.

IMAXTREE

In photos of Julia Foxs February birthday party, no one in her identically-corseted, baby Birkintoting group of girlfriends appears to believe matching is a fashion dont. Kylie Jenner and her best friend Anastasia Stassie Karanikolaou have been twinning since they were kids. And for actual twins Simi and Haze Khadra, who share an Instagram account, their outfits match as much as their DNA. The thing about twins (noun) who also twin (verb) is that it creates a single, bolded personalitydouble the dose of mesh outfit and moody makeup.

If last summer was symbolized by hedonism and sex, this one appears to be summoning something witchier, beckoning us to observe and mirror one another rather than thrusting us at each other. The game that is life can seem like an unusually competitive one. Something to consider while getting dressed for your next dinner party: Most teams who win games show up in the same uniform.

This article appears in the May 2022 issue of ELLE.

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The New Twinning Trend: Finding Connection Through Fashion - ELLE

The White Horse in Mayfair’s Shepherd Market is Hedonism Wine’s first wine-led pub – Hot Dinners

As of last week, Mayfair had a new pub. But this isn't any old pub, it's a Hedonism Wines pub. The White Horse has taken over the old Hatchett's site on White Horse Street and is the high end wine merchants first public house.

What will you find in a wine-led pub? Well, for starters things like a 1974 Blandys Verdelho Madeira, and a Lagavulin distillers edition 2005 on the optics.

There are going to be a massive 6000+ wines to choose from, using Hedonism's full range, but the pub itself will have a 100 bin list focusing on "delicious, yet affordable bottles".

On the food front, they'll be serving up cheese from La Fromagerie, charcuterie or a selection of small plates.

They're promising regular events from resident wine writer Sherry Rose including tastings and a quiz and their lower ground floor Cellar Bar will be available for private events and tastings.

More about The White Horse

Where is it?5 White Horse St, London W1J 7LQ

When?Open now - Tues-Saturday

Soft launch offer: Until 17 June mentioning the word Hedonist gets you a complimentary tasting plate of La Fromagerie cheeses to accompany your wine.

Find out more: Visit their website or follow them on Instagram@thewhitehorsemayfair

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The White Horse in Mayfair's Shepherd Market is Hedonism Wine's first wine-led pub - Hot Dinners

Behind the Hedonist Persona of Francis Bacon – The Nation

Francis Bacon, 1984. (Photo by Ulf Andersen / Getty Images)

In August of 1998, a team of curators, conservators, and archaeologists arrived at 7 Reece Mews, a small flat in Londons South Kensington neighborhood, to start work on the month-long task of transporting its contents to the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin. There, over the next five years, the team labored to painstakingly reconstruct the flat, which for some 30 years had served as the home and studio of Francis Bacon. The artist had moved to Reece Mews in the fall of 1961 and lived there until his death, in 1992, of a heart attack while on a trip to Madrid. The studio re-creation opened at the Hugh Lane in 2001 with some 7,500 pieces of materialslashed canvases, crumpled photographs, pages ripped from medical textbooks, drawings, and hand-scrawled notesnow available for consumption by a public hungry for insight into Bacons life and artistic process.BOOKS IN REVIEW

In the three decades since his death, that appetite seems not to have waned but waxed, as indicated by the staggering amount of material now devoted to Bacon: centenary retrospectives at the Tate and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a five-volume catalogue raisonn, and various biographic monographs whose titles (The Gilded Gutter Life of Francis Bacon; Anatomy of an Enigma) point to his canonization in the public eye as the enfant terrible of 20th-century art.

With Revelations, the latest addition to this litany of biographies, Annalyn Swan and Mark Stevens (who previously collaborated on a lengthy biography of Willem de Kooning) enter the fray, offering the most comprehensive study of one of the leading figures of modernism, someone whose paradoxical pop gravitas places him with the likes of Beckett, Camus, and Sartre. In some 800 pages of text and footnotes, the authorsaided by the artists estatedetail the trajectory of Bacons career with archaeological precision, excavating public and private records to unearth how the openly homosexual painter, preternaturally attuned to the social stage, crafted a rebellious public persona characterized by excesses of sex and violence, drink and drugs. As Swan and Stevens tell it, the ultimate secret of Bacons life was an intractable contradiction: his desperate wish to partake in the ordinary joys and solace denied him as [a sickly] child and young man, and his fear of anything that would shatter his glamorous veneer and make him appear commonplace, vulnerable, or pathetic.

Neither hagiographic nor sordid, Revelations is divided into three sections detailing Bacons youth and early success and failures, his breakthrough in the mid-1940s, and his final decades in London. The authors are adept at contextualizing Bacons artistic development within the story of his romances and exploits and go to great lengths to correct the record, dispelling errant mythologies (often propagated by Bacon himself) that lean too heavily on assertions of natural genius, such as Bacons claim that he rarely made preparatory drawings. Where the last major biography, Michael Peppiatts Anatomy of an Enigmawhich drew from the authors confidential conversations with Bacon over the course of several yearsindulges the mythography of its subject, conceding to Bacons many quips, his claim of being the most artificial person there is, to justify his use of cosmetics, Swan and Stevens are far more restrained, if also excessively discursive, preferring to refract Bacon through the company he kept, studies of his family, and analyses of his art. Their comprehensiveness is particularly instructive when illuminating his years as a commercial furniture and rug designer in the 1930s, a facet of his career that Bacon rarely discussed in public, lest it detract from his reputation as a painter of the macabrea reputation he achieved only in midlife with his 1945 triptych, Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion. That painting marked, according to John Russell, a transition in English art, shocking a society numbed from the long years of World War II. And it also marked a transition for Bacon, who would insist that he began as a painter with this work, a claim that drives Swan and Stevenss investigation into the contours of his artistic persona.

The appeal of an artist biography typically lies in its discussion of creative genius, as well as the hindrances and defeatsor the comfortsthat led to artistic success. Bacon was in no shortage of the elite privilege, particularly in his early years. Born in 1909 to an aristocratic Anglo-Irish family, he was the second of four children, his father a British major who had served in Burma and later trained horses and his mother the heiress to a steel fortune. Asthmatic from a young age, Bacon suffered from an inability to participate in the masculinist traditions of hunting and riding, causing his fatherto whom Bacon claimed to be sexually attractedto regard his son as sexually effete and weak. Both his asthma and his early sexual awakening would provide fodder for Bacons early self-mythologizing. He often spoke of an experience as a child, struggling to breathe and nearly fainting while locked in a dark closet by the family maid, who purportedly kept him hidden away so she could cavort with a secret boyfriend; he also claimed to have had his first sexual encounters with his fathers horse grooms, who purportedly whipped him in the family stables.

While the veracity of these claims remains uncertain, what is true is that Bacon left his family home in the English countryside at 16, supported by a weekly allowance from his mother. In the spring of 1927, he moved briefly to Berlin, where he imbibed the libertine atmosphere of Weimar, and then headed to Paris, where he first saw the works of Picasso in person and fell in with a crowd of artists and designers who inspired him to pursue a career in design. He returned to London in 1928, and it was at this time that he began his relationship with Eric Allden, the first of several powerful older men who provided him not only with sex and companionship but also financial support, as he pursued his ambition of becoming a furniture and rug designer, freelancing for prominent designers and debuting in popular magazines. Men like Allden, and later the well-connected Tory politician Eric Hall, would be among the many sponsors, financial and emotional, that Bacon relied on throughout his life as he stubbornly attempted to develop his own career outside the family name; others included his childhood nanny, who accompanied him for nearly 40 years, and later the gallerists who bailed him out when his gambling debts and profligate spending rendered him temporarily destitute.

A common feature of the artist biography is the allusion to a transformative moment, the pivot point at which the subject recognizes their artistic potential. Swan and Stevens do not stray from this convention: For Bacon, as intimated in this biography as well as the many interviews he gave during his lifetime, this moment came in 1931, when he saw Thirty Years of Picasso, an exhibition held at Alex Reid and Lefevre Gallery in London, and committed himself to studying art. He went back to Paris for two years and took painting lessons from the modernist Roy de Maistre; returning to London in 1933, he exhibited at successively more prominent galleries with the support of his many confidants and connections and was recognizedthough often with mixed reviewsin the British press. (John Berger, in a scathing 1952 review in The New Statesman and Nation, remarked that Bacon was not an important painter.)

Bacons early paintings were riffs on the surrealist mode that had taken Europe by storm in the early 1930s, and for the next several years, he struggled to find a style that would set him apart and that he could claim as his own. By 1937, he stopped exhibiting entirely, a personal defeat that was eclipsed by the arrival of the Second World War in England. When London was bombed by the Germans in 1940, Bacon fled to the countryside to escape the dust that now filled the air. For two years, he worked there in solitude, using as source material newspaper photos of Nazi soldiers and the wreckage of war. The authors of Revelations are at their best when reflecting, as Bacon did, on these moments of internal reckonings, the junctures at which artistic development meets introspection.

After these quiet but crucial years, the figure that begins to emerge is not only the recognized painter of crucifixions and cadavers but the Bacon of popular lore, who prowled the clubs and bars of Soho, gambled away his earnings in Monte Carlo, and had long, torrid, sadomasochistic affairs with a succession of loversfirst with former fighter pilot Peter Lacy and later with George Dyer, the East End hustler who did not, in fact, crash through the Reece Mews skylight (as Bacon claimed) but who met him in a bar. With Lacy, Bacon spent time in Tangier, borrowing advances from gallerists to live in North Africa, where he fell in with American expats like Paul and Jane Bowles and William Burroughs.

But to understand Bacons legacy as an artistnot the one marked by astronomical auction prices but by his assault on the modernist sensibility and his dogged determination to succeed at whatever costthe authors direct readers to Three Studies at the Base of a Crucifixion, the triptych that debuted at Londons Lefevre Gallery in April of 1945, near the end of World War II, to what Swan and Stevens portray as a minor moral and critical uproar. Across its three panels, Bacon depicted the Three Furies from Aeschyluss Oresteia, mythological creatures of vengeance painted with sharp, attenuated necks and engorged bodies against a blood-orange backdrop, a color to shock wan, gray, war-weary London, where for years there had not been any intense light apart from the bomb flashes and subsequent fires.

The true shock of Three Studies, however, was not the sacrilegious subject matter or its garish composition, but rather its moral ambiguity. In refusing to distinguish between good and evil within his painting, Bacon presented a quandary for critics who sought a neat paradigm in the context of the war against German fascism. Nobody wanted to believe that there was in human nature an element that was irreducibly evil, wrote the critic John Russell, and yet Three Studies asserted this condition as primeval fact in a confrontation too beguiling to ignore. That in subsequent decades Bacon would, in his own revisionist approach, use this very painting to mark his beginning as an artista decision that Swan and Stevens present as convincing evidence of his shrewd approach to fashioning his legacy (as well as, frankly, his good taste)justifies the authors somewhat outsize focus on the painting in this biography, though one wishes there were richer descriptions of other notable works.

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Revelations lingers on the period between the mid-1940s and the early 70s when Bacon ascended to celebrity, detailing the elite social milieu that swirled around him, which included designer Isabel Rawsthorne, writer Sonia Orwell, and painter Lucien Freud. The authors provide many sketches of the coterie of sponsors, confidants, lovers, and enemies that populated Bacons life, but the effect is one that occludes the subject of their study, as the presence of so many supporting characters thrusts Bacon himself into the background. As rife as they are with tales of excess, these years are also marked by moments of tragic symmetry: Lacy died the night of Bacons first retrospective at the Tate in 1962, George Dyer two days before his 1971 retrospective at the Pompidou. In the following two decades, Bacon garnered international acclaim and embarked on long-term, obsessive relationships with younger lovers, including John Edwards, to whom he bequeathed his estate, and Jos Capelo, the man who would be with Bacon in his last moments in Madrid. Throughout the 1970s and 80s, Bacon maintained his reputation for grandiosity and hedonism by swanning around in a Bentley and jet-setting through Europe and the United States, flush with cash from his sales with Marlborough Gallery.

Critics have argued that it was during this period that Bacons paintings became branded, his once-eviscerating symbolism now rote, his celebrity obscuring his talents. This is the double-edged sword of biography, which, like the tortured visages Bacon wrought in his lifetime, may distort as much as it clarifies. In attending to the many details and specifics of Bacons life as well as his legacy, Revelations comprises a more satisfying portrait of the artist.

Continued here:

Behind the Hedonist Persona of Francis Bacon - The Nation

Petition To Make Nelly Furtados 2004 Fora The Official Song Of Every Euro – The18

LCD Soundsystems song tonite begins with a lyric that could be applicable to every UEFA European Championship anthem ever written. Everybodys singing the same song, James Murphy laments. It goes tonight, tonight, tonight, tonight, tonight, tonight. I never realized these artists thought so much about dying.

Each official track dating back to 1992 is laced with the idea of seizing the moment, living it to the fullest and coming together RIGHT NOW because tomorrow, the bomb will drop. You put every songs lyrics into a word cloud generator (I did) and you get the boldfaced centerpieces of heart, love, time, people, drum, way, sun.

Its time to love, with all your heart, the sound of the drum and the way the people move under the sun. Eh, eh, yeah, yeah. Put a Martin Solveig beat on that and thats the Euro 2024 anthem done and dusted. Credit me.

The official Euro 2020 song dropped last month after being kept secret for two years. Its by 25-year-old DJ Martin Garrix (shit, I remember when he was 17-year-old Animals Martin Garrix), who, according to Rolling Stone, noticed the guitar intro had somewhat of a U2 vibe to it and duly got the Edge to play that part while Bono came around to say I feel your heart beatin in my chest. If you come with me tonight is gonna be the one.

It's always gotta be tonight.

Its about what youd expect. I dont like it as much as 2016s This Ones for You by David The Vanquisher Of Racism Guetta. But I dont like that one or any other official anthem as much as Euro 2004s Fora" by Nelly Furtado.

Maybe it was the beauty of sun-washed matches in the Algarve, the stunning architecture of The Quarry in Braga, the cinematic final four in Lisbon and Porto or maybe it was just the Euro 2004 video game that made it a major chore trying to score against even the minnows but Nelly Furtados anthem didnt just talk about hedonism, it made it normative. Of course were going buck wild for a month straight; its an unstoppable force!

Como uma fora, como uma fora

Como uma fora que ningum parar

Pauleta just dicing Pavel Nedved.

I petition that this should be the official anthem of every European Championship. It could be like the UEFA Champions League Anthem, except we get Nelly Furtado to come out instead of British composer Tony Britten.

Euro 2020: We Are The People | Martin Garrix featuring Bono & The Edge

Euro 2016: This Ones for You | David Guetta featuring Zara Larsson

Euro 2012: Endless Summer | Oceana

Euro 2008: Can You Hear Me | Enrique Iglesias

Euro 2004: Fora" | Nelly Furtado

Euro 2000: Campione 2000 | E-Type

Euro 1996: Were in This Together | Simply Red

Euro 1992: More Than a Game | Towe Jaarnek & Peter Jback

The rest is here:

Petition To Make Nelly Furtados 2004 Fora The Official Song Of Every Euro - The18

From My Fair Lady to Grease 2: Guardian writers on their favourite movie musicals – The Guardian

The Gold Diggers of 1933

The Gold Diggers of 1933 is a film of quarters, and not just the giant coins that cover the chorus lines modesty. Four wisecracking kids are dying to make it on Broadway: Joan Blondell is a singer, Ginger Rogers a sex kitten, Ruby Keeler a sweetheart and Aline MacMahon has the jokes. But the shows they hustle into close before they open. As Rogers snarls, its the depression, dearie. But then Dick Powell changes their luck with catchy tunes and deep pockets. This is a bona fide pre-Code musical, so the talkie scenes burst with prohibition-busting backstage antics and a little Park Avenue farce, but the curtains open wide on four of the most outlandish numbers ever filmed, courtesy the kaleidoscopic visions of Busby Berkeley and what deadpan Ned Sparks calls: The gay side, the hard-boiled side, the cynical and funny side of the Depression! Vivacious economic optimism in Were in the Money and heartbreaking social commentary for the postwar generation in My Forgotten Man (blues vocals by Etta Moten) bookend the film. In between, the dazzling neon-lit magic of the Shadow Waltz competes with the cheerily vulgar surrealism of Pettin in the Park to stop the show. Pamela Hutchinson

So much has been written about Singin in the Rain that its easy to forget that its not just about the birth of the talkies. Talking is the least of it. Its about the birth of music on screen, the birth of the movie musical. Gene Kelly famously plays 1920s silent movie star Don Lockwood who falls hard for smart, pretty wannabe actor Cathy Selden, played by Debbie Reynolds. He gets her a job dubbing his conceited co-star, Lina Lamont, who turns out to have a terribly squeaky voice, but they have an even bigger and more revolutionary idea. Why not put music into these newfangled sound pictures? The musical is born. Cinema itself is reborn. Dons pal Cosmo, wonderfully played by Donald OConnor, gets a job as musical director and the cliches are true: the whole picture erupts with joy, and with wonderful songs like All I Do Is Dream Of You, Moses Supposes, Make Em Laugh and of course the indomitably romantic Singin in the Rain itself. Peter Bradshaw

Three years after the 1978 classic Grease, audiences returned to Rydell high for the yearnings and hijinks of a new class of seniors. The plot is a gender-swapped (and many say feminist) reprise of the original, with Michelle Pfeiffer in her first starring role as a cool-girl tough chick and Maxwell Caulfield as an egghead British exchange student. A critical and commercial flop upon its release, its since become a cult classic, with standout numbers like the 80s-rock-tinged Cool Rider and the infectious, none-too-subtle Score Tonight (set in what else? a bowling alley) living rent free in my head for decades. Directed by Patricia Birch, choreographer of the original Broadway and film versions, the ensemble dancing is exuberantly impeccable, and the costumes pitch perfect, particularly in the talent show. Sure, no one looks like an actual teen, but Grease 2 accurately captures the mercurial nature of adolescence, along with its strict hierarchies and codes and unrestrained horniness. With its 40th anniversary coming up next year, heres hoping that this under-recognized gem will finally get its due as the rare sequel thats superior to the original. Lisa Wong Macabasco

Its remarkable a film as luxy as My Fair Lady in 1964 the most expensive movie ever made feels so weirdly authentic. Top frocks, yes, and dazzling design, but also smog you can taste and the genuine sense at least two of the characters sleep in their tweeds. In some ways, this could be a bit of a downer. Our leading man is cor! a misanthropic phonetics professor in late middle age. His love rival is a wimpy stalker. The most appealing fella here is probably Wilfred Hyde-White, and hes pushing 400. Either him or Stanley Holloways alcoholic binman. But the film understands the problem. Viewed from today, the plot snobbish codger moulds spunky woman to his tastes; she melts looks dodgy. But it isnt. George Cukor always took his leading ladys side, and this is no exception. Rex Harrisons Higgins is indulged, but almost every lyric lampoons him. Theres two transformations here: the one in which a woman has a wash and learns to enunciate about Andalucia. And then one in which a man realises hes a nightmare. Eliza stays the same inside; Higgins is changed forever. Thats why the final scene feels like a rescue, not a coffin closing. Catherine Shoard

Bob Fosse brought a writhing, sweaty, bowler-hatted eroticism to the Hollywood movie-musical, but sex was only one part of the darkening, maturing influence he exerted over the genre. His opulent direction embraced the scripts literary origins in Christopher Isherwooods 1939 novel Goodbye to Berlin, placing the film in a lineage dating back to War and Peace, another maximalist melodrama tracking a few individuals while history crashes down all around them. As Nazism threatens to crash the whooping, hedonism-numbed party of Weimar Germany lorded over by impish Joel Grey as the trickster-demon emcee the incandescent Sally Bowles (Liza Minnelli, her performance earning one of eight Oscars total) shares a dalliance with British writer Brian Roberts (Michael York) that ends in tragedy, both for them and for Europe. Beyond the jagged modernist perfection of the sets, cinematography, costuming, choreography and acting, theres a canny intelligence undergirding the spectacle. Its all far too horny to be branded the thinking persons musical, but Fosse masterfully splits the difference between the two. Charles Bramesco

Theres music in the voices and ambient noises interrupting or screaming over each other in Nashville, the Sistine Chapel of ensemble movies. Robert Altmans grand old tapestry is about country musicians and the promoters, fans and wannabes who orbit them during concert celebrations for Americas bicentennial. The film is brimming with soulful ditties like Keith Carradines Im Easy and Ronee Blakelys My Idaho Home. But Nashvilles famously dense and democratic soundscape finds its melody in the hum of traffic and crowds and the carefully amplified flirting, bickering, scheming, yearning, hollering and political campaigning between them. Resonating just as loudly today as it did in 1975, Nashville is a comic and melancholic soundtrack to a nation divided between jingoistic patriotism and malaise. The 24 characters on its principal ensemble cast are like musical notes that complement and compete with each other. And throughout Nashvilles epic runtime, Altman patiently waits and searches for a way to get them all in tune. Radheyan Simonpillai

My strong feelings for High School Musical, a groundbreaking cable TV event if not technically stellar movie (the lip syncing? Its off), owe mostly to timing: I was 12 years old when it premiered in January 2006, the prime age to fall hard for its classic fitting in v being yourself stakes and even harder for Zac Efrons hair swoop. It was a pleasure to get absolutely steamrolled by Disneys correct calculation that hot jock + beautiful nerd + the plot of Grease + lunchroom choreography = generation-defining, inescapable hit. Watching HSM in its wave felt gravitational, enjoyably ridiculous; the first movie was earnest without being too sentimental, your unhinged scream at a rollercoaster drop turned into the ethos of a whole franchise (whose endearment is evergreen see: the very Gen Z meta HSM: The Musical: The Series starring one Olivia Rodrigo). But HSM is most beloved by me for its durability Ive seen it dozens of times, the soundtracks familiar beats of teenage melodrama slicking every rewatch, each one solidifying that you cant take yourself too seriously when growing up (or bopping to the top). Adrian Horton

There are so many alluring entry-points into Mel Stuarts glorious adaptation of Roald Dahls Charlie and the Chocolate Factory a deranged Gene Wilder going for broke, endlessly appealing, if disgustingly unhygienic, scenes of sweet things, a plot structure that resembles a chillingly casual slasher movie but for annoying children that its easy to imagine it working without also being a musical (it was after all a captivating novel without telegraphed song breaks). But the delicate tonal balance of the story, from deliciously sweet to stingingly sour, works so well because of the music, a sprightly way of dishing up spoonfuls of salt to younger viewers. Dahl obviously hated the end product (he had a similar distaste for Nicolas Roegs equally thrillingly perverse take on The Witches) but it remains a wildly engaging and trippy adventure that manages, quite deftly, to combine awful kids enduring cruel and unusual, if arguably deserved, deaths (theories have since populated that compare Wonka to a deranged and inventive moralistic killer a la Jigsaw) with lively yet sparsely scattered musical numbers. Singin in the Rain could never. Benjamin Lee

Rarely has the title song from a musical eclipsed its source quite as cruelly as New York, New York. The film, directed by Martin Scorsese on the back of his Taxi Driver success, was a costly, grudgingly reviewed flop; the song, composed by Cabaret geniuses Kander and Ebb, worked its way swiftly into the American canon, made universally recognizable via Liza Minnellis original interpretation and Frank Sinatras subsequent cover. But the film, one of Scorseses greatest and gutsiest, deserved equal elevation. In 1977, audiences and critics werent sure what to make of a musical that married iridescent 1940s showmanship with ugly post-Cassavetes relationship drama, exquisitely acted by Minnelli and Robert De Niro as a warring musician couple who were never meant to be. But the tension between those two modes is the point, capturing the disconnect between glistening onstage chemistry and abrasive backstage turmoil. Its a shame the films failure dissuaded Scorsese from ever attempting the genre again: too long dismissed, it sings, swings and slings shots with the best of them. Guy Lodge

There is some debate as to whether the Coen brothers Homeric prison-escape comedy from 2000 is a musical at all, despite its T Bone Burnett-curated soundtrack of period-specific American folk, spirituals and bluegrass. Well I say: if jukebox musicals like Mamma Mia can get away with a load of Abba cuts, or or indeed Across the Universe can chuck in random Beatles songs, then I rest my case. O Brother, of course, benefits from the Coens at the top of their game: a ridiculously convoluted concept (reimagining the briefly mentioned film project from Preston Sturges Sullivans Travels); a terrifically charismatic performance from George Clooney (also at the top of his game) pulling the whole thing along; and of course the music, central to the plot, wonderful to listen to, and organised with scholarly rectitude. The 1913 tune Man of Constant Sorrow, keened through those hilarious beards, is the showstopper; but I really like the baptismal sequence built around Down in the River to Pray I dont think any other film-makers could have pulled that off. Andrew Pulver

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From My Fair Lady to Grease 2: Guardian writers on their favourite movie musicals - The Guardian

How the attempted assassination of Andy Warhol sparked an iconic Midnight Cowboy scene – Far Out Magazine

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Every now and again, a film will come along that unwittingly encapsulates the zeitgeist of an era. With that in mind, it can certainly be said that very few works of art capture the sixties hedonistic slide into the seventies as well asMidnight Cowboy. There is one tale from the films backstory, however, that seems to crystalise the era in an almost mystically befitting sense.

Amid the movies boldly renegade artistic journey is a party scene, that does so well what so many other party scenes dismally fail at, it actually seems realistic. Whereby most depictions try to portray fun, in reality, fun is one of the last adjectives to come to mind when you consider most of the house parties youve ever been to. And I dont mean that in a humbug sense either, but very rarely does a party simply look like an Earth, Wind & Fire video, whereby upon entry you are handed a frilly umbrellaed cocktail and begin lightly shaking your hips while cheerfully chatting with a stranger.

Midnight Cowboysloft party scene has since become iconic for just that reason despites the aggrandised surrealism it is somehow a transportive depiction of how a kaleidoscopic drug-fuelled get-together of the sixties may have looked. Thus, it is no surprise that Andy Warhol had hand in it in an almost mythical sense, of course. He was the artistic numen of Greenwich Village in that area, so it is only natural that he spiritually presided over the scene even if he, himself, was recovering in hospital following an assassination attempt which just so happened to be another regrettable mainstay during the highly unsettled era.

While the film for the most part remains faithful to the James Leo Herlihy novel on which it is based while also flourishing the narrative with a seasoned vaunt of arthouse touches, the writer didnt give them much to go on for the party segment. The book simply said a party in Greenwich Village, production assistant, Michael Childers had other ideas, embellishing the scene with a cacophony of New Yorks decadent quintessence.

That was partly my idea, Childers remarked in a GQ interview. I was friends with Paul Morrissey, who did all the Warhol movies and so was obviously close with Andy, and wed hang out at Maxs Kansas City with him and Andy Warhol and The Velvet Underground crew, Debbie Harry, New York Dolls and all those crazy people. I brought John there for a couple of dinners with Paul, and one with Andy, and he was fascinated.

I said, Look! In the book, it just says, A party in Sues in Greenwich Village. Whats that? I said, Lets turn it into something completely Warhol. I had all the superstars in it Ultra Violet, International Velvet, Paul Jabara, Hollywood Blonde, Paul Morrissey, Joe DAlessandro, Taylor Mead, Patti DArbanville and Andy really wanted to be in it. Problem was that he was shot the week before by Valerie Solanas and we had to start shooting.

While Warhol recovered in hospital, bitterly disappointed to be missing out on being part of the movie, his cohort of Factory friends responded to the violence in the most late-sixties New York way there is they got high! The ultimate tribute to Andy Warhol comes from the fact that the film remains the only X-rated film to win an Oscar for Best Picture, and while he was tragically denied his cameo his essence is all over the key scene.

The writhing nudes, the swirling camera shots, weird dancing spaced-out people stroking the walls was not the result of some light, camera, action choreography, these actors were answering to a higher calling. The flamboyant cast of Warhols pals had thought that the best way to pay tribute to their chief would be to make it just like one of Andys Loft Partys, thus prior to the scene they all got wasted.

Brenda Vaccaro, who plays Shirley in the film, recalls the moment when they slowly began to descend / ascend onto the set:One girl came in with green nails, green hair and a stuffed monkey on her shoulder. She said, Im a tree, and this is my monkey. Seeking some respite from the mayhem, Vaccaro headed into her dressing room at Harlems Filmways Studio and found two strangers there, having sex: I said, Whoa! and got the hell out of there.

The hedonism got so out of hand that one crew member quit. Cinematographer Adam Holender recalls him walking off set, He felt his sensibility and religious beliefs were compromised.

What they managed to create with this unspooling of riotous heathenry is not only a fascinating arthouse sequence that permeates the narrative with a frisson of surrealism but also a tableau that predicted the forthcoming dirge of the seventies. The mindless violence that spawned it is in this sense also befitting. And finally, the fact that the scene remains among the canon of cinemas greats is a triumphant example of the vibrant explosion of art that came out of the tempestuous end to the sixties.

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How the attempted assassination of Andy Warhol sparked an iconic Midnight Cowboy scene - Far Out Magazine

Oak Ridge Boy William Lee Golden tells his story in Behind the Beard – AL.com

Strangely enough, the nostalgic autobiography of an Oak Ridge Boy provides a cutting-edge look at whats going on right this second in the music world.

William Lee Golden recently published Behind the Beard, a memoir of his life from his childhood in Brewton, Ala., through the long grind leading to the Oak Ridge Boys breakthrough to big-time success, a series of divorces, his split from the band and eventual reunion, and his development of a family musical enterprise with The Goldens.

It is, by design, mostly a look back for the benefit of those who think fondly of the Oaks and who want to hear the inside story from the groups hairiest member. Itll be of interest mostly to fans who want to revisit those days in the early 80s when the Oaks, The Statler Brothers and Alabama regularly cracked the pop Top 40 with voices that were distinctly Southern, harmonies often rooted in gospel and songs that were usually, aside from Alabamas sultrier numbers, unimpeachably wholesome.

More on those bygone-era charms in a minute. In the last pages of the book, Golden reveals that the book was a project undertaken by the COVID-19 shutdown. But he also talks about the cost of that shutdown.

Early in 2020 the baritone was laid low by a respiratory ailment that left him bedridden for two weeks, in pain like hed never felt before, and that then required an ICU stay and further recuperation. A backup filled in for him as the Oaks continued to tour. Golden says thats standard procedure: Band members can step up to fill in for any of the four front men.

The whole band and crew depends on those concert dates. Our big money comes from concert performances, but the show must go on, in order for everyone to get paid, Golden says. I appreciated Michael Sykes covering for me. He helped save the show and they didnt have to cancel the concerts. Its a good thing they did the shows while I was sick, because just a few months later, almost every show for the rest of the year was cancelled due to the virus lockdowns.

He rebounded and was healthy for the remainder of 2020. His experience left him with an impression, right or wrong, shared by many who were bushwhacked by severe flu-like symptoms in early 2020: While I was told that I had the flu, a month after I got out of the hospital, we started hearing about the first cases of the Corona virus starting to hit the U.S. But I feel like I might have had it before anyone knew what it was.

As the shutdown fades into memory, the concert business is booming back to life, with new announcements coming every day. (The Statlers have ended their group touring days, but the Oaks have a full calendar from now through February 2022, and Alabama is back to playing arenas, with appearances Aug. 6 in Orange Beach and Aug. 7 in the Birmingham area.)

Golden says in the book that pandemic lockdowns canceled 100 Oak Ridge Boys concerts in 2020. While the hiatus was a godsend in that it allowed him to pursue some passion projects, he includes glimpses of how tough it was. One comes from fellow singer Duane Allen:

During our shutdown with the Covid virus, we had just 7 shows in 7 months. That was barely enough to pay our utilities. As a group, we said, We are not going to be able to have a salary. William told me, Duane, whatever you feel the Oaks need to do, I am there. We went through seven months without a full paycheck.

You see very few professional football or basketball players who are over the age of 40. They are usually long retired by then, writes Golden. Im more than double their age and Im still working hard! Of course, I love what I do, but Ive still got lots of bills to pay. If you go through 3 divorces, and get wiped out financially 3 times, youll find yourself working into your 80s too.

Financial considerations arent the only thing driving the concert industrys booming return to life. Theres also the hunger to perform. At 82, Golden says its still there.

But will the day come that the Oak Ridge Boys finally park the tour bus for the last time? Im sure it will. But for now, the bus still has a full gas tankand so do we, he says. We will continue as long as each guy can go. I can honestly say that we have never discussed what would happen if one of us couldnt go on. I plan to perform as long as I can, but if I couldnt perform, I would hope the group would go on without me, and I would expect them to.

2021 makes 40 years since Elvira became the groups signature hit. If a farewell tour is in the cards, Golden says, I hope that we make it a very long farewell.

Behind the Beard is, in its own way, a long farewell. Golden is open to a point about his faults and failings, from the infidelity that broke his first marriage to the hedonism that contributed to his firing in 1987. Its all told from the perspective of a man who has forgiven himself and moved on, so theres nothing titillating or controversial to be found. This is Behind the Beard, not Behind the Music.

The book, written with Scot England, is peppered with contributions from various friends, relatives and business partners, in addition to the other Oaks. The inclusion of other voices is undercut by their uniformity. These arent counterpoints or alternate perspectives, theyre tributes, ranging in tone from admiring to fawning. If you can overlook the sense that they were written to spec, they support the books thesis that Golden is a much-admired, well-liked man. If you cant, they make the book feel like a vanity project.

If Behind the Beard holds little to raise eyebrows, it does have its share of small delights. Golden writes at length about his idyllic youth in the Brewton area. He rather generously covers the Oak Ridge Boys long days of pre-fame struggle, when a frequently changing lineup of men scratched out a living on the gospel circuit. He gives these forerunners his respect, naming them and praising their work.

The book contains a cornucopia of photos, many showing a man who could have passed as a 70s movie idol before he decided to throw away his razor. Want to see the barefoot country boy, or the teen who aspired to the fame of hometown hero Hank Locklin? There they are. Want to see what his grandpas truck looked like after he rolled it? There it is.

Golden also gives some insight into the difficulty of the Oaks transition from gospel to country. It wasnt quick, it wasnt easy and it wasnt painless -- particularly as the band lost favor in the gospel industry and struggled for traction on the secular side. Hes similarly upfront about the setbacks along the way: Expensive divorces, the destruction of his home by a tornado, and other mishaps that show stardom doesnt guarantee a perpetual ride on easy street.

But even with our gold and platinum records and every kind of award, I am still not all that impressed with myself, he writes near the end. Thats why it took me so long to be talked into doing this book.

Behind the Beard is just that direct and is tinged throughout with the same self-deprecating humor. As he says right up front:

When you write your life story, and you decide to bare everything, its kind of scary. It feels a lot like getting naked in front of the entire world. Now that Ive committed to it, there is one thing going through my mind if I was going to get naked in front of everyone, I probably shouldnt have waited until I was 82 years old!

If nothing else, we can thank William Lee Golden for putting that image in our heads.

Behind the Beard can be ordered at http://www.williamleegoldenbook.com. The Oak Ridge Boys release their newest album, Front Porch Singin, on June 11.

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Oak Ridge Boy William Lee Golden tells his story in Behind the Beard - AL.com

DRIVE 2020: DRIVE: Buff pickups from hell to get your through it – Dallas Voice

Ram 1500 TRXOh, sweet devil! This is what happens when you ram the Hellcats engine into a pickup. It looks like molten sex with its composite fender flares, hood scoops and 18-inch wheels. Hand-wrapped leather, flat-bottom steering wheel and 900w Harman Kardon audio dress up interiors. Nice, but its release is the 6.2-liter supercharged V8 that conjures 702 horsepower and 0-60 mph in 4.5 seconds. The adaptive suspension tames balls-out Baja runs. Base price: $71,690

CASEY WILLIAMS | Auto Reviewerautocasey@aol.com

Think of these trucks as muscled super men dressed in spandex devil suits. That bulging fantasy may get you all revved up, but hopefully Mr. Man is also capable of doing real work. Almost nobody needs the capability of these debonair trucks, but a little hedonism never hurts whether picking up cargo or your buff date. These will get you through it.

Chevy Silverado Trail BossChanneling an Eagle Scout, the Trail Boss is prepared to hike with off-road shocks, skid plates, push button 44 and meaty tires. Note the sinister black trim, dual exhaust outlets and Camaro-inspired air blades up front. Heave inside to enjoy heated seats, freezing air-conditioning, Bose audio and navigation. Rear passengers stretch out. Get it with the 420 horsepower 6.2-liter V8. Prepare for the worst, look your best. Base price: $55,040

Ford F-150The worlds best-selling truck is reborn with refined exterior, tablet-style touchscreen, 180-degree reclining front seats and integrated work surface. Fuel economy should reach 30 MPG as a hybrid, but a full range of turbo-V6, V8 and diesel powertrains shall also appear. Hybrids offer an on-board generator to power tools and toys. A pickup first, the truck can be driven hands-free on 100,000 miles of compatible highways. Base price: $30,000

GMC Canyon AT4Kiss the pretty boy who likes to camp. Canyon is more urban-sized, but AT4 editions hit trails with four-wheel-drive, off-road suspension, aggressive tread and underbody skid plates. Even in the wilderness, it looks debonair, with dark chrome finishes, larger grille and red tow hooks. Interiors are lavished with available heated seats, Wi-Fi, and wireless phone charging. A 308 horsepower V6 pumps the calves. Base price: $38,200

Jeep Gladiator MoabBred to span deserts quickly, the Moab has a reinforced frame, skid plates, increased ground clearance and 285 horsepower V6 connected to a 6-speed manual or 8-speed auto transmission. One button configures the powertrain for sand, rock crawling or proper streets. Bolstered seats with orange accent stitching caress passengers. Of course, the roof and doors come off for adventures and a good hosing when finished. Base price: $43,875

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Earth911 Podcast: Thinking Through Post-Growth Living With Philosopher Kate Soper | Earth 911 – Earth911.com

Arguments against embracing sustainable choices often suggest life will be less prosperous. Philosopher Kate Soper argues that the first step toward a sustainable lifestyle is changing the things we appreciate. Modern life has made us frantic and despite technical advances, people work more than ever, particularly in the United States. Sopers new book, Post-Growth Living: For an Alternative Hedonism, suggest that consumerism has many downsides that, if recognized, will allow people to rethink how they value free time, work-life balance, and the avalanche of choices that define modern life. We can find new joys in more time, slower travel, and lower levels of anxiety. Soper, who is emerita professor of philosophy at London Metropolitan University, is known worldwide for her analysis of needs and consumption, and she has turned to examine humanitys relationship with nature in recent years.

Sopers idea is to embrace an alternative hedonism, a different approach to values than consumerism encourages. Less stuff doesnt mean one is impoverished because it takes so much work to earn enough to keep up. For example, by the end of the 20th century, Americans were spending twice to support their lifestyles as in 1948. As inequality has increased, people have pursued more to support the illusion they are keeping up with the wealthy, who are held out as examples of success because they can buy more than other people. But consumer success is not the only possible definition of success, Soper argues. After COVID-19, our normal expectations have been disrupted. Low-wage workers have been deemed essential while others were allowed to stay at home, safe from contact with the virus. Supplies of food and luxury goods have been interrupted, changing how people spend and save their money.

Can we use the lessons of the last year to begin a transition to a new set of values? Soper suggests that a culture war aimed at the absurd suggestions advertising promotes can help break the spell of more stuff for stuffs sake. She advocates people making free choices based on scientific information with less emphasis on consumer success. Stories and advertising that express the value of using less, reusing more, and enjoying a slower pace can help to reshape peoples expectations. She discusses the role of government, how to uncouple progress from prosperity, and the challenge of organizing socially and politically to make changes that lead to a sustainable economy. Post-Growth Living: For an Alternative Hedonism will be released on November 10, 2020, and is available now on Amazon.

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Earth911 Podcast: Thinking Through Post-Growth Living With Philosopher Kate Soper | Earth 911 - Earth911.com

10 Warhammer 40,000 Factions That Still Need Proper Armies – TheGamer

Warhammer 40,000isone of the most populartabletop war games, and is a game with some of the most over the top lore in the history of gaming. To say thatWarhammeris a game characterized by excess would be a dramatic understatement.

RELATED: 10 Things We Wish We Knew Before Starting Warhammer 40K

This is a game featuring magical psychic space orks, and technologically advanced hedonistic elves, and a cult that worships technology on Mars. Between the vast array of ludicrous factions inWarhammer,there are still many existing factions in the game's lore and smaller sub-factions that still cannot be played as full armies. So we're going to take a deep dive into the lore ofWarhammer 40,000and see ten under-appreciated factions that still need proper armies.

The Ynnari are an interesting case.Technicallyplayable, these Eldar worship the god of death, Ynnead. To date, there are an entire three Ynnari units, all of which are HQs. While they can borrow and run both Craftword Eldar and Drukhari forces when constructing an army, many a player would recommend simply deploying the Ynnari as an allied detachment. This is quite unfortunate, as at that moment in the lore, the Ynnari are among the most important Eldar around, with many notable Eldar from other factions defecting to their cause.

The fact that Squats are currently not their own playable faction inWarhammer 40,000, truly boggles the mind.ThoughWarhammeris indeed a sci-figame, it features the likes of fantasy staples such as elves and orks, repurposed for a futuristic flavor. While the Eldar and Orks are each staples to the game, Squats have seen no such luck.

RELATED: The 15 Most Underrated Tabletop Games

Squats are for all intents and purposes, Dwarves in space. Despite their simplicity, they are among the most obscure races in the franchise, and can't even be run as a sub-faction in the manner of the Kroot.

Warhammerlore and flavor can get pretty over the top, and some character designs can most definitely back this up. Despite this, Zoats remainwith no faction to call their own. Zoats are essentially massive, green-skinned cyborg-centaurs that have massive guns for hands. As strange as they are awesome, Zoats recently received their first model in years as a part ofBlackstone Fortress,yet still remain unplayable, as they function as a universal enemy to all players.

A race with a great deal of history, the Eldar come in numerous distinct forms such as the tech-savvy Craftworld Eldar, the sadistic Drukhari, and the Harlequins. However, there is another notable sub-faction of Eldar that remains unplayable: the Exodites.

RELATED: 10 Tabletop Games That Are More Fun In Small Groups

The Exodites are Eldar who have disavowed their kind's hedonism, and have founded colonies on remote planets... where they ride dinosaurs. Yes, that's right, there is a faction inWarhammer 40,000that is comprised of dinosaur-riding space elves, yet it still remains unsupported.

The Imperium of Man is one of the most central over-arching organizations inWarhammer, serving as an umbrella group that houses some of the most iconic factions in the game. Within the Imperium, no organization holds more political and military power than the Inquisition. An organization with absurd amounts of authority, the Inquisition can notoriously deem planets "unlivable" and order them to be completely destroyed. While the Inquisition encompasses the excessive nature of the game, they are designed as allies that are meant to be taken sparingly alongside another more established faction.

Like the Ynnari, Gretchin is a faction that is technically playable, but not on their own. Gretchin areWarhammer's version of Goblins, and tend to serve as cannon fodder for Orks. Despite this, in the lore, there is in fact a faction of Gretchin that stand on their own without Orks: TheGretchin Revolutionary Committee. These are Gretchin that have decided to rebel from the Orks and attempt to stand on their own two legs.

When it comes to technologically advanced factions inWarhammer, few are as iconic as the Adeptus Mechanicus. The Adeptus Mechanicus is an organization within the Imperium that worships technology with religious zeal.

However, there is a similar faction within Chaos that remains unplayable. The Dark Mechanicum are fundamentally quite similar to the Adeptus Mechanicus, but work in the name of the gods of Chaos. While they were quite prominent in the Horus Heracy, their numbers have dwindled greatly in the presence of the lore (though they are still around).

As the name would suggest, the Rogue Traders are incredibly powerful independent individuals that explore the outermost expanses of the universe. They have a noteworthy focus on the individual, and no two groups of traders are the same, making the faction quite distinct. While they were made playable inWarhammer'sKill Teamformatin the form of the Elucidian Starstriders, they remain unusable in the standard version of the game.

Like the Elucidian Starstriders, the Gellerpox Infected are a faction that was made playable inKill Team, remaining largely absent from the core game. The Gellerpox Infected is a bizarre twist on classic Nurgle units, having a great deal of emphasis on pestilent. However, the Gellerpox Infected bring a unique flavor to the table, tying in themes of technology, as numerous units at their disposal are essentially cyborg zombies and cyborg daemons.

For those looking for a deep cut, and a faction unlike anything completely playable in the game, the Hrud might be the non-faction of your dreams. Abominable subterranean horrors, these creatures can rapidly age those they come in contact with. Due to their unique aesthetic and distinct ability, the Hrud could easily serve as a new faction to provide the game with additional flavor.

NEXT: 19 Best Games To Play on Steam's Tabletop Simulator

Next The 5 Best Designed Game Controllers Ever (And 5 That Just Don't Make Sense)

Staff Writer, Paul DiSalvo is a writer, comic creator, animation lover, and game design enthusiast currently residing in Boston, Massachusetts. He has studied creative writing at The New Hampshire Institute of Art and Otis College of Art and Design, and currently writes for CBR, ScreenRant, GameRant, and TheGamer. In addition to writing, he directs and produces the podcast, "How Ya Dyin'?"He enjoys collecting comics, records, and wins in Samurai Shodown.

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10 Warhammer 40,000 Factions That Still Need Proper Armies - TheGamer

12 Classic Songs That Happened By Accident Kerrang! – Kerrang!

Recently, Mark Hoppus revealed how it was an unlikely source of inspiration that helped him create the opening riff on blink-182s classic single Whats My Age Again?. Speaking to Chris DeMakes on the Less Than Jake mans podcast he explained how it was a failed attempt at playing the lesser-known Green Day song J.A.R. that inadvertently led to the golden sequence of notes that would help him form the basis for one of his own bands biggesthits.

Its a happy accident that a lot of bands and artists can relate to, with rock history being littered with huge tunes coming to life as a result of some convenient quirks of fate. Here we look back on some of the best known examples of when lady luck has intervened, lending a helpinghand

Guns N' Roses Sweet Child O' Mine

Some people spend their whole lives trying to write the perfect song. For others, sometimes the magic happens to them. That was the case for this iconic hit from rock miscreants Guns N Roses, when that unforgettable opening riff came to Slash during a string skipping exercise in the summer of 1986 at the bands notorious Hellhouse digs on the Sunset Strip. I was fucking around with this stupid little riff, the guitarist recalled, Axl said, Hold the fucking phone! Thats amazing! and from there the song sprouted wings, despite the rest of the band initially dismissing its potential. History would of course prove Axlright.

Metallica Nothing Else Matters

In 1990, while Metallica were busy preparing for the album that would cement their place as worldwide metal superstars, lovestruck frontman James Hetfield was missing his then-girlfriend. So he called her up and idly plucked out some notes on his guitar. Those notes became the starting point for Black albums monster ballad Nothing Else Matters, but only later when drummer Lars Ulrich heard them and insisted the frontman was onto something. The relationship that inspired it might have been fleeting, but the song remains a staple of Metallica setlists, now dedicated to the bands fans.

Red Hot Chili Peppers Under The Bridge

One of the Red Hot Chili Peppers greatest songs almost never was. The world has producer Rick Rubins, shall we say inquisitive nature, to thank. To begin with, Under The Bridge was a poem, written by vocalist Anthony Keidis at his lowest ebb, coming off the back of debilitating drug addition and years of hedonism. While flicking through Keidis personal notebooks in the process of making the bands 1991 record Blood Sugar Sex Magik, Rick found the words written down and sensed there was some songwriting gold in them. Despite the bands reluctance to stray far from their party funk sound with something inherently maudlin, it would ultimately prove to be a masterstroke and became one of their biggest hits. Being nosey pays offsometimes

Nirvana Smells Like Teen Spirit

This song has fate sewn into its DNA seemingly. In late 1990 while out shopping for groceries, Bikini Kills Kathleen Hanna and Toby Vail spotted a deodorant named Teen Spirit, an idea they found so hilarious that it became an in-joke between the two. Later that night, the pair were hanging out with Nirvanas Kurt Cobain and Dave Grohl and as they all got raucously drunk, Kathleen wrote Kurt smells like Teen Spirit in Sharpie on the wall. The next day, oblivious to the body spray brand, Kurt saw the slogan and assumed it meant something deeper. The song soon came to life and rock history was alteredforever.

Black Sabbath Paranoid

Most bands throwaway songs are deserving of the term. This one is a major exception to the rule. And it all came about thanks to a few pints down the local boozer and some strong-arm tactics on the part of the record label, who wanted a short, radio-friendly single from the Brummie legends. In the time it wouldve taken to down another round of drinks, Black Sabbath duly bashed out one of metals most distinctive anthems and the whole thing was done in 20 minutes, with Tony Iommi instinctively summoning that iconic intro riff from the ether and the rest of the band following his lead. Sometimes leaving the pub early is a goodidea.

Van Halen I Cant Drive 55

The opening track on Van Halens eighth album VOA came to then-vocalist Sammy Hagar while he was pulled over by a cop on a late-night drive. The story goes that Sammy had just gotten off a flight after a three-month safari in Africa, and hired a rental car at the airport to get to his place in Albany, New York, but at 2am he was stopped for doing 62 miles an hour, breaking the 55 miles an hour speed limit. While the police officer was writing the ticket, the frazzled, jet-lagged frontman grabbed a pen as inspiration hit. I swear the guy was writing the ticket and I was writing the lyrics. I got to Lake Placid, I had a guitar set-up there and I wrote that song on the spot.Burnt.

Led Zeppelin Rock And Roll

This one came from another loose rehearsal jam, while the legendary Brit quartet were struggling to finish up the writing of Four Sticks. Holed up in the rented Headley Grange mansion in Hampshire, drummer John Bonham bashed out the the intro to Little Richards Keep-A-Knockin to lift the mood, which sparked guitarist Jimmy Page into life, adding a riff he thought sounded like something Chuck Berry might play. As luck would have it the jam was being recorded and incredibly, Rock And Roll was nailed inside 15 minutes.

Deftones Back To School (Mini Maggit)

Frontman Chino Moreno has actually gone on record as calling this song a mistake. Famously railing against being erroneously lumped in with the nu-metal crowd at the time, Deftones third album White Pony was a far more artistic, ambitious effort that sought to separate the band from that association once and for all. When the label wanted a marketable single however, the band decided to show those fuckers how easy it is and created this blistering track in under a half anhour.

Pearl Jam Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town

Picture the scene: Eddie Vedder is sitting in a San Fran outhouse the size of a small bathroom where he slept during the making of Pearl Jams 1993 second album Vs., humming and strumming some chords and words he cobbled together in a matter of minutes, trying to shake off the songwriting cobwebs. It was never intended to be anything more. Luckily, guitarist Stone Gossard was sitting outside reading the newspaper when he overheard everything and rightly impressed insisted the song was perfect for the band. To this day, it still gets aired at almost every show the Seattle bandplay.

Blur Song 2

We wouldnt usually pay attention to Blur on Kerrang! but in this instance they merit a mention, not least because theres a school of thought that says the Britpop band wrote 1997 megahit Song 2 as a parody of grunge and it was only ever supposed to be a private joke. According to guitarist Graham Coxon, however, it was meant more as two fingers up at their record label, hence the deliberately simplistic, almost sarcastic delivery and minimalistic detail. But the last laugh appears to be on Blur, as despite three decades worth of work and many other hit singles, theyll forever be known to many people around the world simply as that woo-hooband.

Beastie Boys (You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!)

Another song misunderstood by many, the Beasties actually penned this 1987 superhit as a reaction to hair-rock bands writing songs that celebrated the sleazy, morally dubious side of rocknroll. There were tons of guys singing along who were oblivious to the fact it was a total goof on them, Mike D later lamented. The song was never meant to be anything other than a throwaway bit of fun, but it would ultimately help launch the hip-hop trio to superstardom. Luckily, they had more aces up their sleeves, unlike this nextlot

Warrant Cherry Pie

You have to feel for Warrant. All that most people know them for is this one song and although it became an internationally loved track, it completely overshadowed the bands entire career and became something of an albatross. And again, it would be some classic record label interference prompting the initial idea. With Aerosmiths Love In An Elevator riding high at the time, Columbia Records wanted their new charges to try their hand at something similar. Incensed, Warrant frontman Jani Lane disdainfully scribbled some lyrics on a takeaway pizza box and inside 15 minutes Cherry Pie was written. The label got what they wanted, though, and suddenly the bands 1990 album was named after the song, the subsequent tour was renamed and arguably, the way that history views the Hollywood rockers was changedforever.

Posted on November 6th 2020, 12:47pm

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12 Classic Songs That Happened By Accident Kerrang! - Kerrang!

Partying Like Its 1925 as Londons Theaters Go Dark (Again) – The New York Times

LONDON The theater scene here has long been celebrated for offering food for thought, but recently its also been likely to offer actual food. Or, at the very least, a cocktail to get the evening off to a spirited start.

The evening belongs to either of two well-established pieces of immersive entertainment in the capital. Both The Murdr Express and The Great Gatsby are theatrical confections dating back several years, and they recently reopened as part of the citys gradual return to live performance. Those runs have now been put on hold by a second English lockdown expected to last through Dec. 2, after which both ventures say they will be back: The Murdr Express is then scheduled to play at its out-of-the-way east London location through Jan. 31, while Gatsby has extended its run at its three-floor perch in Mayfair, minutes away from busy Oxford Street, through Feb. 28. Clearly no pandemic can be allowed to get in the way of a party.

Of the two ventures, The Murdr Express an acute accent has been added to pay comical reference to an imagined French location is by some distance the less lofty. While Gatsby, from the adapter and director Alexander Wright, nods directly toward the classic F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, The Murdr Express conjoins the thinnest of plots with a (very good) meal that surpasses what you might expect from this sort of experience. It says something about the priorities of the occasion that the menus chef, Louisa Ellis, a 2017 finalist on the BBC series MasterChef, gets credit in the publicity material, while no writer or director does. (For the record, the co-writers were Bobby Lee Darby and Craig Wilkinson, and Wilkinson co-directed with Victor Correria.)

The venue can be found on a mostly deserted back street in the Shoreditch district, within a former warehouse that has been got up to resemble a railway station. (Usefully, the locations Pedley Street address happens to be not far from two actual Overground stations within the London rail network.)

In keeping with the exigencies of our times, attendance per show has been capped at 32, with patrons separated into socially distanced booths, and any good-natured mingling that might once have been encouraged between the audience and the cast of six is off the menu. Theres a virus plaguing the world, or so were informed by the newsreel footage at the beginning of the evening, even as were alerted upon arrival at the platforms Seven Sins bar to a Covid-secure electronic internet beverage ordering platform whatever that means.

Very much on the menu, at least one recent midweek evening, was a four-course meal of celeriac soup, beetroot salad, braised beef and a lively buttermilk panna cotta. Potentially disruptive to the digestion is breaking news that a murderer is in our midst. The killer could be any of a motley array that includes a briskly no-nonsense conductor (Ingrid Miller), a Southern-accented collector of artifacts (Colin Hubbard) and a vampy dowager (Derek Elwood), who speaks at top volume and has eyes capable of making an onlooker quake with fear.

Memorable acting isnt really the intended takeaway from a breezy conceit for which patrons are encouraged to show up in period garb, ready to add to the 1920s sense of occasion. I felt sorry for the murder victim, not least because he was especially chatty in the bar beforehand, and if the revelation of the killer comes as something of an anticlimax, well, much the same could be said about The Mousetrap and thats been running in the West End (apart from during Covid, obviously) for nearly 70 years.

The Immersive Everywhere take on Gatsby boasts its own cocktail menu and also encourages those so inclined to arrive in period regalia, ready to Charleston the night away (or as much of the night as possible given the 10 p.m. curfew that was in effect immediately before the renewed lockdown).

The challenge here is to marry the devil-may-care hedonism of one of Jay Gatsbys parties with anything approaching the resonance of Fitzgeralds wounding 1925 study in self-aggrandizement and spiritual depletion, which continues, for whatever reason, to exert a grip on the British imagination: In 2012 alone, there were two separate versions of the novel off West End, while in 2013 the Northern Ballet company opened a dance adaptation that remains in the companys repertory.

To my mind, the current London production succeeds best when it lets Fitzgerald do the talking, which is to say when James Lawrences immediately commanding Nick Carraway, the novels narrator, is allowed to take charge of the play as well, often by co-opting Fitzgeralds language. Lawrence is also among the few within a tireless ensemble who seems on top of his American accent. Too many of his castmates inexplicably lapse into Brooklynese.

In a show marked by breakaway sections when various portions of the audience are siphoned off to observe events happening in rooms tucked away elsewhere, I was impressed by the emotional intimacy achieved by Lucinda Turners Daisy Buchanan as she allowed four of us to bear witness to a tear-stained confession steeped in self-reproach. (Craig Hamiltons saturnine, sunken-cheeked Gatsby isnt nearly as compelling a presence.)

Not for the first time with stage (or, for that matter, screen) reckonings with Gatsby, there is a palpable disconnect between the forced jollity of the gathering as a whole and the abiding wistfulness of a book whose plaintiveness in some fundamental way remains forever out of reach. On the other hand, you can hardly blame Wright during this of all years for wanting to bring 120 people per show to their feet to join in the merriment of a song like Aint We Got Fun. Mirth has been in short supply during 2020, and under the circumstances, a shot of faux-1920s adrenaline will more than do.

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Partying Like Its 1925 as Londons Theaters Go Dark (Again) - The New York Times

A psychologist explains how Trump’s own words reveal the traits that make him unfit for office – AlterNet

This continues the series, "The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump Revisited: Mental Health Experts on the Devastating Mishandling of a Pandemic." Whereas we could not have predicted a pandemic three-and-a-half years ago, the authors of The Dangerous Case of Donald Trump: 37 Psychiatrists and Mental Health Experts Assess a President anticipated how the president would respond, should there be a crisis. We tried to warn the public of the very consequences that are unfolding today: abuse of power, incompetence, loss of lives and livelihoods of many Americans, and increasing violence.

Philip Zimbardo, Ph.D., professor emeritus at Stanford University, is a scholar, educator, and researcher. Zimbardo is perhaps best known for his landmark Stanford prison study. Among his more than five hundred publications are the best seller The Lucifer Effect and such notable psychology textbooks as Psychology: Core Concepts, 8th edition, and Psychology and Life, now in its 20th edition. He is founder and president of the Heroic Imagination Project (heroicimagination.org), a worldwide nonprofit teaching people of all ages how to take wise and effective action in challenging situations. He continues to research the effects of time perspectives and time perspective therapy.

Lee: Your lifetime work in social psychology and more recently on time perception have guided me and others for a long time, but especially since the beginning of our publicly speaking up. What are your current observations on Donald Trump?

Zimbardo: Our president has two new distinctions: first the analog of the worst prison guards of the Stanford prison experiment; and secondly, he is the most extreme present hedonist in the universe. Two quotes that exemplify part of my presentation that will follow are, first, Trump's desire for dominance over everyone can be fully realized as his new role as the mean prison guard who rules over all citizens as his imaginary prisoners. And secondly, as an extreme present hedonist, Trump makes important national and international decisions, as we just heard from the previous speaker, without ever thinking about the future consequences. He also becomes addicted to any activity that is novel and readily accessible, notably Trump's Twitter mania.

How have you come to these conclusions?

First, Trump as domineering prison guard. I often analogize between Donald Trump and the worst prison guard in my Stanford prison experiment. That student, who by chance was assigned to play a prison guard, soon internalized that role in the extreme. He reported later that he felt as if he were a puppeteer, and the prisoners, who were other students, were his puppets. That he could make them do anything by pulling their strings. This total dehumanization of others is like a dictatorial mindset that characterizes much of Trump's treatment of everyone, starting with his personal staff, his appointed team, extending to women, American minorities, immigrants, climate scientists, victims of extreme natural disasters, and all political opponents. Power is Trump's aphrodisiac. And then I want to add another of his mindless addictions. Virtually everything he has done publicly since becoming president of the United States is part of his addiction.

Secondly, Trump's previous manifestation of sexual addiction pales in comparison to his recent Twitter over-the-top addiction. In the past three years he has made almost 22,000 "tweets." His "tweets" have been regularly increasing: 6.5 daily in 2017, eight daily in 2018, almost ten daily in 2019, and, so far, more than 34 daily in 2020! As he becomes more manic, his Twitter explosion has been as high as 200 "tweets" on one day and night in June 2020. Some are totally incoherent as if he were publicly revealing he is mentally unraveling. Many of these "tweets" reflect his egocentric megalomania and extreme grandiosity, as Trump is praising himself as brilliant: "I'm a stable genius." Even more self-aggrandizing assertions such as being able to achieve anything he wants to that no other American president in all of history has ever been able to do, and that he deserves the Nobel Peace Prize.

You have described since the beginning what people find to be the most compelling characteristic about him: his present hedonism. Would you explain what that is?

As an extreme present hedonist, Trump lives in the moment without any concern for the validity or prior foundation of any of his assertions. Since becoming president, Donald Trump has made over 20,000 lies, more for misleading claims, many of them repeated hundreds of times, and have been rising exponentially over the years. These conclusions are based on decades of scientific research on the psychology of time perspective. I developed a scale called "the Zimbardo Time Perspective Inventory," and we studied people around the world, and to be a present hedonist means you live in the moment, you seek novelty, you live only for enjoyment, you never think about the future, you never link what you are doing now to its future consequences. My inventory is the most reliable and valid measure of individual differences in time perspective, and many researchers and businesspeople around the world are using it.

Is there anything else you would like to add?

He is also an extreme narcissist. Everything is about I, he, and me. We saw this in the first debate where he was uncontainable. They could not hold him down, he was oozing all over the place! In the second debate where they had a mute, he was contained, but two interesting things. The moderator asked Joe Biden and Donald Trump: "Imagine you are elected as president in the next election, what would your acceptance speech be to the nation?" And Biden said, this means you have to imagine, something that is going to happen next month, and Biden accepted that and simply said, "My fellow Americans, as your president, I will do the following three things." When it was Trump's turnthis is his most fervent desire, to be the presidenthe could not do that. He could not project himself into that future, and he kept complaining about what he had been talking about earlier, that people do not appreciate what he has done, he is under-appreciated. So, that is one instance.

Recently, he has been going around the nation. He actually loves being up on the stage. He loves these things. Recently, he was going on and on about how washing machines and showers waste water. But not just mentioning it, taking five to ten minutes to this audience, what this was, he was following up on Biden's sense at that, he is not interested in conservations. He is not interested that we have to do to conserve our resources, given the climate change. His inability to project what is needed by America to go from where we are to where we should be, and also what it means to be a present hedonist is, you seek novelty. You are bored by sameness. And he has virtually said this: "The problem with COVID-19 is it keeps coming on, it is on and on. It is boring." Waving his hand, he said: "Let us get past it, let us get by it, let us get on." So, these are the traits that make him totally unfit to be a president, make him unfit to be anything, and continues to be a danger. One thing that can happen is, we vote him out of office.

Read previous interviews with Dr. Robert Jay Lifton, Dr. Judith Herman, Dr. James Gilligan, and Drs. Dee Mosbacher and Nanette Gartrell.

Follow Dr. Lee at bandylee.com.

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A psychologist explains how Trump's own words reveal the traits that make him unfit for office - AlterNet

Stream These 15 Titles Before They Leave Netflix in November – The New York Times

Fans of Brad Pitt and Jake Gyllenhaal will be disappointed to learn that Netflix is losing not one, but two vehicles for each star in November (and more than that for Pitt if you count all the Oceans movies that are leaving, at least temporarily). Elsewhere, we have cop movies, a Broadway musical, a musical documentary (?), indies aplenty and Oscar nominees galore. (Dates identify the last day a title will be available.)

Young filmmakers are often told to write what they know, and Trey Edward Shults certainly took that advice to heart: His 2016 debut feature is based on the struggles and conflicts of his family, many of whom appear in the film as versions of themselves. (He also shot the film in his family home.) It sounds like a formula for microbudget navel-gazing, but quite the contrary. Shults proximity to the material gives it an uncommon intimacy, and while his distinctive style using a visual and aural aesthetic closer to that of horror cinema than of domestic drama renders this an especially unnerving viewing experience.

Stream it here.

Do you think your pop culture obsession is niche? If so, seek out this delightful documentary, chronicling the archival exploits of one Steve Young. A longtime writer for David Letterman, Youngs record store crate digging led him to the world of industrial musicals: full-scale Broadway-style productions created specifically for corporate conventions, often providing a nice paycheck for up-and-coming musicians, lyricists and performers. Their recordings first strike Young as amusing curios, but the more he learns about this little-known sub-scene, the more fascinated he becomes. The director Dava Whisenant shares Youngs interest and enthusiasm while subtly posing questions about what separates art from commerce, and about who makes that distinction.

Stream it here.

A struggling punk band gets a gig that sounds too good to be true and proves to be in this claustrophobic, white-knuckle thriller from the writer and director Jeremy Saulnier. Booked at the last minute at an off-the-map roadhouse, the bandmates are horrified to discover that theyre playing for a white supremacist gang, and when theyre unlucky enough to witness a backstage murder, things really start to get ugly. Saulnier plays up the claustrophobia of the location as the savage skinheads descend on his protagonists, building tension and suspense sequences with skill and ingenuity. But his secret weapon is the great Patrick Stewart, cast against type as the menacing father figure of their tormentors.

Stream it here.

The late 1980s and early 1990s were the salad days of adapting classic television series into films, with diminishing results; for every The Fugitive, there were three or four Car 54, Where Are You?s. But one of the rare artistic successes was this 1991 dark comedy from the director Barry Sonnenfeld, which aped the spirit of both the supernatural sitcom and the Charles Addams cartoons that inspired it. Raul Julia and Anjelica Huston are magnificent as the heads of the title family, finding a perfect note of lustful abandon and dark domestic bliss, while Christina Ricci shines as little Wednesday Addams, sporting the best cinematic deadpan this side of Buster Keaton.

Stream it here.

Hes known only as the Driver, and all he does is drive stunt cars by day for the movies, getaway cars at night for criminals. Ryan Gosling resists the urge to over-explain this enigmatic young man, instead embracing his mystery and effortless cool in this moody, violent neo-noir thriller from the director Nicolas Winding Refn. Carey Mulligan co-stars as the friendly neighbor who garners his sympathy and trust (and perhaps more), leading him into a job that goes very wrong, very fast. Top-notch supporting performances abound from Bryan Cranston, Christina Hendricks, Osar Issac and especially Albert Brooks, unexpectedly effective as a ruthless crime boss.

Stream it here.

Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Pea star as two Los Angeles cops working the street gang beat in this action drama from the writer and director David Ayer (Training Day). Hes dealing with material that is, to put it mildly, not exactly fresh: the buddy cop dynamic, rival gang wars, the difficulty of honest policing. But he takes a novel approach, framing the picture in a pseudo-documentary format, using personal videos, dash cam footage and the like. And he wisely keeps the focus on the byplay between Gyllenhaal and Pea, who invest their characters with enough depth and genuine affection to keep the film from surrendering to formula.

Stream it here.

The directors Jonathan Milott and Cary Murnion adopt a similarly stylish approach for this 2017 indie action movie, which unfolds as a series of long, seemingly unbroken takes, shot with a relentlessly prowling camera. The unnerving (and not altogether far-fetched) narrative has the citizens of Brooklyn under attack from a nationalist militia, with gunfights and hand-to-hand combat among the brownstones. But the biggest draw is Dave Bautista, who summons just the right mixture of offhand skill and muted reluctance as a former military man who must fight his own demons while fighting for his life.

Stream it here.

Matthew McConaughey got his big break playing a lawyer (in the 1996 film A Time to Kill), so it made sense that when he needed to revive his flagging career, he would play one again. This 2011 adaptation of the Michael Connelly novel casts McConaughey as Mickey Haller, a slick criminal defense lawyer who runs his practice from inside his snazzy Lincoln Town Car. Its a perfect role for McConaughey, who captures the characters sleazy charisma while making his inevitable personal growth seem organic. And the director Brad Furman knows exactly the kind of movie hes making: the sort of trashy airport-novel adaptation thats not going to win awards but proves an amiable way to pass a lazy afternoon.

Stream it here.

It wasnt so unusual, once upon a time, for genre movies to come loaded with social commentary and pointed subtext which is perhaps why this 2008 thriller from the director Neil LaBute makes such an impact. Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington star as a newlywed couple whose big move into their dream home is disrupted by their neighbor (Samuel L. Jackson), an Los Angeles police officer who seems more than a little unstable. The basic premise mirrors such cop-harassment tales as Unlawful Entry, but the smart screenplay by David Loughery and Howard Korder wrestles with questions of race, class and police brutality, turning what could have been a common suspense flick into a thoughtful potboiler.

Stream it here.

It would seem impossible to craft an entertaining film adaptation of Michael Lewiss dense nonfiction account of number-crunching in baseball much less to make one as breezy and engaging as this one. But the screenplay by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin finds the proper balance of egghead theory and character development, Bennett Millers direction is fleet-footed without being lightweight, Brad Pitts restless charisma has rarely found a more appropriate showcase, and the supporting cast (including Jonah Hill, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Robin Wright and Chris Pratt) is, well, an all-star team.

Stream it here.

Oceans Eleven (Nov. 30)

Pitt is similarly terrific charming, funny and cool in Steven Soderberghs star-studded adaptation of the 1960 Rat Pack-centered heist picture. George Clooney stars as Danny Ocean, a con man (and ex-con) hellbent on ripping off a Las Vegas casino magnate (Andy Garcia) who also happens to be the paramour of Dannys ex-wife (Julia Roberts). The supporting players (including Matt Damon, Carl Reiner, Bernie Mac, Elliott Gould and Don Cheadle) crackle and pop, while Ted Griffins clever screenplay runs with the precision of a Swiss watch. (Its two sequels, Oceans Twelve and Oceans Thirteen, also leave Netflix this month and are also worth your time.)

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Edward James Olmos nabbed an Oscar nomination for his eccentric, funny and heartfelt performance as the high school teacher Jaime Escalante in this true story from the director Ramn Menndez. Escalante was sent into the math classes of his East Los Angeles school with only a faint hope of raising the schools dismal test scores; instead, he coaching them not only to acquire basic math skills but also to take and ace the A.P. calculus exam. Menndez ticks the boxes of the inspirational teacher narrative without surrendering to clich, detailing how Escalante used his quirky personality and unwavering faith to push his students to thrive.

Stream it here.

Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim and Arthur Laurentss ingenious musical adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, which updated its setting and story to the streets and gangs of New York, remains one of the towering achievements of the Broadway stage. So its no surprise that it spawned one of the great movie musicals. The original stage director and choreographer Jerome Robbins and the filmmaker Robert Wise shared directorial duties, thrillingly placing the shows songs and dances on the real streets of New York City while using the proximity and intimacy of the camera to render the longing and loss of the story even more poignant. Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer perform admirably in the leads, but Rita Moreno and George Chakiris steal the show in support and won Oscars for their efforts, two of the films astonishing ten-statue haul, which included prizes for best picture and best director.

Stream it here.

This 2001 road movie from Alfonso Cuarn marked his true breakthrough as an international filmmaking force and it remains one of his best films, funny and evocative and unapologetically sexy. Diego Luna and Gael Garca Bernal (both unknowns at the time) star as teenage best buddies who convince a sensuous older woman (Maribel Verd) to join them on a road trip to an exotic beach. They think theyre in for a weekend of hedonism, but she has other ideas as the three embark on a journey of surprising tenderness and emotional reckoning.

Stream it here.

With David Finchers new made-for-Netflix feature, Mank, on the runway for a December streaming debut, it seems odd that the service is pulling his best picture to date, this 2007 examination of the crimes, investigation and ultimate mystery of the Zodiac killer. Jake Gyllenhaal is a newspaper cartoonist whose casual interest in the case becomes an obsession; Robert Downey Jr. is his columnist colleague whose own obsession rounds the corner into near-madness. Mark Ruffalo rounds out the cast as the San Francisco police detective who keeps hitting brick walls himself.

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Stream These 15 Titles Before They Leave Netflix in November - The New York Times

If any institution can inspire the Maltese nation to do good, it’s Serkin. In a divided nation, the pastizz unites all – MaltaToday

What are we skinning? The forced closure of the Crystal Palace (aka Serkin) pastizzerija in Rabat due to complications arising out of new COVID-19 restrictions.

Why are we skinning it? Because Serkin is about as beloved as local institutions can get, and bears the reputation of having the best pastizzi on the island, and therefore the planet.

But everyone needs to make compromises during a pandemic. We can just get our pastizzi elsewhere. But they wont be Serkin pastizzi. Closing down Serkin is like closing down church.

Why were they closed down, anyway? They classify as a snack bar, surely? Well funny you should say that.

Huh? Turns out they were registered as a bar back in 1981, and will therefore have to close by law since the new restrictions apply to bars across the board.

But thats ridiculous. Why would Serkin register itself as a bar? Youll have to ask them. Convenience? Less bureaucracy? A reminder that things were done differently back then...?

Not that they could exactly predict a global pandemic would be affecting them in this way. And lets face it, there is something appropriate about such a perennially Maltese institution adopting a perennially Maltese - read: embarrassingly lax - approach to licensing their operation.

Serkin is an historical place though. We cannot really judge its bureaucratic make-up by contemporary standards though, can we?I guess we cant. But what does that say about us as a country?

That weve normalised lax approaches to licensing and other procedures for far too long? Thats one, for sure.

Though you could also say that the Maltese will let many things slide if a good pastizz is at the end of it. That sounds obscene, but I take your meaning.

I see that even Economy Minister Silvio Schembri has weighed in on the matter. Yes, hes low-key chided Serkin for never updating their license.

Though to be fair, a Serkin that opens up only until 11pm - as snack bars are now allowed to do - can no longer cater to the soon-to-be-hungover drunken reveller crowd. Well, clubs are closed too

Youre right. COVID-19 has made Maltas hedonism chain collapse like a house of cards.

So what happens now? A little birdie tells me that Serkin appears to have struck a deal with the establishment next door to distribute their iconic pastizzi (and other treats) from that venue.

The solution appears to be understanding, mutual collaboration and inventiveness. Its an inspiring thought, to be sure.

If any institution can inspire the Maltese nation to do good, its Serkin. In a divided nation, the pastizz unites all.

Do say: The nationwide shock that comes with Serkins closure may be a heartwarming reminder that we still hold such historic institutions close to our hearts, but it also encourages us to consider the negative side-effects of our countrys lax approach to bureaucracy, pastizzi or no pastizzi.

Dont say: If you take Serkin away you may as well burn the flag, to be honest.

Excerpt from:

If any institution can inspire the Maltese nation to do good, it's Serkin. In a divided nation, the pastizz unites all - MaltaToday

Why Trump is so obsessed with ‘Y.M.C.A.’ – SFGate

When you think about songs associated with the LGBTQrights movement, the same dozen cliches come up again and again: Gloria Gaynors I Will Survive, Madonnas Vogue, Lady Gagas Born This Way. Theyre defiant assertions of identity or anthems about resilience in the face of adversity. Same goes for pretty much all of Chers hits, too.

Then theres Y.M.C.A. by the Village People, which is very different: several verses and a punchy chorus's worth of encouragement from an experienced, mildly predatory man eyeing up a new arrival in town and giving him some pointers for where he can meet the boys.

Lyrically, its a vision of a pre-AIDS, pre-internet sexual innocence, both in terms of the young mans naivete as well as the wider societys ignorance that gay sex was taking place in a gym thats ostensibly for devout followers of Christ.

And yet Y.M.C.A. is also a staple of Donald Trumps campaign rallies. He gyrates to it seemingly everywhere he goes, on elevated platforms or in front of Air Force One, for fans who cant get enough of the only single from the 1978 Village People record "Cruisin'."

On Monday, in one of its final pre-Election Day pushes, the Trump campaign released a video of the presidents metronome-like torso oscillating to it for a full two minutes. Few among us have the attention span for a two-minute commercial for anything, let alone a supercut with no narrative arc or variation that isnt edited tightly enough to keep Trumps fists-and-knees dance moves on the beat, but it went viral. Mystified, the U.K. LGBTQ outlet PinkNews tartly referred to it as a song thats definitely, definitely not about gay sex.

Except actually, its not that simple. Victor Willis, the Village People frontman hes also the nightstick-wielding cop as well as the one who wrote the song is an out-and-out heterosexual, and he said as recently as September of this year that hell sue anyone who suggests that "Y.M.C.A." is about sweaty man-on-man lovin at the gym.

So the line You can do whatever you feel is meant to be taken at face value, and a man whose uniform consists of a MAGA hat and an ill-fitting suit would be at ease dancing next to a cowboy and a construction worker, all of them totally straight.

If Willis is uncomfortable with his songs universally understood message of giving someone directions to a good shower to have sex in, hes also uncomfortable with the Trump campaigns use of it. Like Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty and countless other liberal-leaning musicians who see their work used by politicians and causes they dont agree with, he asked them to stop. But as Pitchfork notes, most licensing deals go through publishers like ASCAP, not with the artists themselves. In October, "SNLs" "Weekend Update" spoofed this entire episode, too shrewd not to capitalize on any opportunity to have five members of the cast play the Village People.

Irresistible though it is, Y.M.C.A. also sucks as a disco track, which is why most gay people groan when they hear it. Musically, its closer to the Chicken Dance than the binary-annihilating hedonism of Sylvester. (And, like the Chicken Dance, its played at bad weddings and comes with its own built-in moves, a cheering-squad spelling-out of its letters that Trump never seems to do.)

It also feels utterly out of sync with all the other hyperaggressive tropes of Trump fandom, from drunken boat parades and crude chanting to lock people up but then again, the masculinity that Donald Trump projects has always been a bizarre pastiche of the hypermanly and the unmanly, bragging and self-pity, fast food and bronzer.

Well, a lot of gay men also embody those very contradictions. Still, its a puzzle why Trumps fans, whose musical tastes otherwise run to Lee Greenwood and Kid Rock, would thrill to a heavyset septuagenarian grooving arhythmically along with the Village People. Y.M.C.A is, in fact, the exact type of record that would have been burned in effigy at Chicagos infamous Disco Demolition Night, that 1979 White Sox game that functioned like a proto-Trump rally and supposedly spurred the genres death. (Chics Nile Rodgers once compared it to a Nazi book-burning.)And if baseball games are our barometer, well, Queens medley We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions has had a long history blasting out of stadium loudspeakers, Freddie Mercurys outrageous queerness be damned.

So maybe Y.M.C.A. is just too catchy and too ridiculous for its smoldering homoerotic gaze to do anything but disappear in the sludge of Boomer nostalgia, just as Sweet Home Alabama has become a symbol of generic Southern pride and no longer a specific eff-you to Neil Young for Southern Man.

Does Trump just remember Y.M.C.A. fondly? It was released when he was 32 and newly married to Ivana, with Don Jr. barely an infant. Already rich by then, Trump was a local nuisance, the Manhattan real-estate equivalent of an obnoxious bro from Queens trying to cut the line at Studio 54. The decades that followed brought him billions of dollars, TV shows, branded steaks and the U.S. presidency, largely on the strength of sheer bluster and swagger.

It should be noted that Trump also really likes Macho Man.

Peter Lawrence Kane is communications manager for SF Pride and a former editor of SF Weekly.

Continue reading here:

Why Trump is so obsessed with 'Y.M.C.A.' - SFGate

Good use of that Christmas party budget – RollOnFriday

Crack it open for a good cause.

The pandemic has turned out not to be as bad as expected for some City law firms profits, as evidenced by some hefty pay rises or bonuses and firms even repaying furlough money to the Government.

Most have weathered the storm well, certainly in comparison to their high street colleagues.

In normal years, outcomes exceeding mid-year expectations would be cause for the firms to reward the successful departments with lavish Christmas parties.

Some City law firm Christmas parties have been legendary; A few even notorious, and what they have in common is that they are nearly all expensive.

This year, the pandemic lookscertain to prevent any substantial partying from happening at all.

So what is a law firm to do with the extensive funds it will unwillingly save on abandoned festivities?

Well. while somelarge firms have weathered the COVID 19 storm well, legal advice charities have been suffering badly. The need for help with benefits, housing, debt, employment and community care has risen dramatically. Simultaneously the income agencies gain from charity events such as the London Marathon and the London Legal Walk has dropped equally rapidly and agencies such as Law Centres that rely on Legal Aid for much of their income have been very hard hit.

So what a great thing it would be if firms redirected their annual bash funds to bolstering the charities that help people in need.

A quick swap of hedonism for altruism wouldnt go amiss in this yearand would be a wonderful way to celebrate Christmas.

The London Legal Support Trust (LLST) giving appeal is being launched to support 100 legal advice charities in and around London this Christmas.

If you suggest it to your firm and they like the idea of spreading Christmas cheer, then they can simply send the funds they would have spent on parties to London Legal Support Trust:

CAF Bank

Sort code 40-52-40

Account number 00011860

Reference: RoFXmas.

Visit link:

Good use of that Christmas party budget - RollOnFriday

Exclusive news and research on the wine, spirits and beer business – Shanken News Daily

October 19, 2020

Diageo has launched a new ad campaign for Don Julio, honoring brand founder Don Julio Gonzlez. The new initiative, titled A Life Devoted to Tequila Making, launched in the U.S. last week and will expand globally in the future. The campaign was created by Anomaly New York and features videos and stills across social and digital platforms, including Hulu and YouTube. To celebrate the launch of the campaign, Don Julio is donating $25,000 in Gonzlezs honor to the Restaurant Workers Community Fund. Last year, Don Julio crossed 900,000 cases in the U.S., according to Impact Databank.

Compass Box has announced the Peat Monster Arcana, the latest whisky celebrating the companys 20th anniversary. The 46% abv whisky is made from a base of cask strength Peat Monster that aged for an additional two years before blending with malt whiskies from the Talisker, Miltonduff, and Ardbeg distilleries. The Peat Monster Arcana is rolling out this month in limited quantities across the U.S.; only 3,900 bottles will be available for a suggested price of $95 a 750-ml. This is the third celebratory whisky the company has released for its 20th anniversary, following Hedonism Felicitas and Rogues Banquet.

Elenita, a new brand of sparkling mezcal cocktails, is debuting across California. The 5% abv range includes Cucumber Lime Basil and Pineapple Jalapeno offerings and retails at $36 an eight-pack of 12-ounce cans on the companys website. In addition to online, Elenita is available at select Total Wine and BevMo outlets among other on- and off-premise locations. The brands mezcal base is made from 100%-Espadin agave and distilled in Oaxaca.

Amber Beverage Group is launching Kah Tequila in Canada. Produced Ambers Fabrica de Tequilas Finos distillery in Jalisco, Mexico, Kah is named after an ancient Mayan language word for life. The product range features three expressionsBlanco, Reposado, and Aejoall of which are made from 100% hand-selected blue agave. Mark Anthony Group will distribute Kah Tequila in Canada.

Tagged : Compass Box, Don Julio, Elenita, Kah

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Exclusive news and research on the wine, spirits and beer business - Shanken News Daily