At work
Sitting at my desk
Dripping
Ooooooooooh
Reminiscing
Uuuuuuhhhhhhh
When I snapped a piece
Of the kitchen counter
Grrrrrrrrrrrr
As the length of you
Slid into my ass
Mmmmmmmmm
Welcomed
Aaaahhhhhh
Like the prodigal son
Gratefully
Returning home
Yessssss
I fell in adoration of the good old fashioned villain, and a deplorable level of respectful lust for the virgin. I fell just as hard for the doctor not of this earth as I had for that ranger who would be king from Middle Earth. And goodness knows a certain Sassenach of the 1940s would totally understand -well not really- that am I, a woman of the 2010s, would go BAMF for JAMMF of the 1740s – Je suis Prest indeed! I follow the Tumblr posts, the Facebook pages, subscribe to YouTube Channels of my faves, “Tried It!” in Pinterest and yes, as much as most fanfic has me rolling my eyes, crying with laughter, the few magnificent pearls found amongst the swill of the swine, makes the dumpster diving worth it. I know this because…
I am a grown woman and I am a fangirl.
I am fully aware I am not the demographic that come to mind when one thinks of fangirls. Girls is a misnomer. For I am here to tell you, honestly, there is no demographic. Yes, some ages cater to certain shows or characters than others, but across the board, it is the shared love and adoration we feel about the chosen characters to bind us. Like everything else in life there are levels, I prefer to think I am a fangirl based somewhat in reality.
I fall in love with the characters, how they behave, how they feel, how they make me feel. However, I do not confuse the character with the actor. We all understand that actors, especially method actors, must have at least a trace characteristic of each part played in order to portray them so well. But having a trace of a characteristic in an actor’s real life, is not the same as having the whole of the personality presented. Even when they purposely blend the two.
When watching “Iron Man” we know the egotistical, but likable genius, multi-millionaire, manufacturer of various technology, decadent playboy, and philanthropist Anthony Stark is not the actor Robert Downey Jr. However, RDJ the multi-millionaire, actor, happily married man, father and philanthropist has wonderfully gleaned from the reckless cockiness of his youth as a Brat Packer to give snark and charisma to the character. Yet because it is a small part of him, he plays the part of likeable scoundrel off well to his adoring public. (PS: And not that he is ever going to read this, but all these years later I want give a most sincere Thank You to Elton John — those of you that know what I’m talking about, know what I’m talking about.) I know this because…
I am a grown woman and I am a fangirl.
When it comes to, say, BBC’s “Sherlock”, I adore the Gatiss/Moffat modern interpretation of the classic Arthur Conan Doyle stories. Not even gonna lie, I, like so many millions of others, put myself in Molly Hooper’s place for the five seconds of a most crashing Holmes kiss. However, once the show fades to black, those feelings I have for William Sherlock Scott Holmes do not transfer to Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch. While I feel I “know” this Sherlock, well – as well as anyone can know a fictional high-functioning sociopath that is, I do not pretend to know Benedict Cumberbatch. Do I admire his incredible acting talent? Oh hell yes. His talent and that damned voice, a weapon which he wields with utmost pervection (that is not a misspell – think about it), as Sherlock, it is used to even more deadly effect in the character of Khan Noonien Singh in “Star Trek: Into Darkness”. Most of us know of the now infamous Cumberbatch photobombing of U2 at the 2014 Oscars, it is a pure Benedict being random and having fun moment; it is something neither Sherlock, nor Khan would ever deign to do. I know this because…
I am a grown woman and I am a fangirl.
Fans of the “A Songs of Ice and Fire” series of novels by George R. R. Martin, know the character of Tyrion Lannister is a physically repulsive character, we adored him nonetheless. The adoration of Tyrion increased a thousand fold once it became known by the moniker of the HBO TV series “Game of Thrones” where the character was graced by the incomparable talents of Peter Dinklage.
In the Marvel Cinematic Universe of “The Avengers”, the wicked Loki of Asgard, is portrayed by Tom Hiddleston. Fangirls find Loki beautiful in spite of the evil he’s done because of Tom Hiddleston gives the character depth that transcends his physical space.
With a nod to Capaldi who has had the role since 2013, but there are fangirls to this day who argue heatedly over Tenant versus Smith as the better Doctor.
It is easy to why Sam Heughan raises heart rates as Jamie Fraser in Starz “Outlander”, the deities have given us most delectable eye candy in him. That he is an excellent actor, playing Diana Gabaldon’s well developed dimensioned male protagonist is icing on an already very delicious cake.
With the exception of Heughan and by extrapolation Jaime, part of what makes these specific characters of interest is that they are portrayed by actors who do not fit the “convention” of what is considered heart throb material. Sticking with Sherlock for a moment, the character’s purple shirt of sex, notwithstanding – Cumberbatch himself is quoted at not understanding the hullabaloo over his looks. When asked what does he most dislike about his appearance, his responds with “The size and shape of my head. I’ve been likened to Sid from Ice Age.” “BuzzFeed.com” agrees with both his sex symbol status in 25 Things That Prove Benedict Cumberbatch Is The Perfect Man and with a very uncomplimentary list of 13 Things Benedict Cumberbatch Looks Like. I know this because…
I am a grown woman and I am a fangirl.
So what is it? What pulls us in and then straps us down? Easy answer: the character of the character. Even when the character is considered outside of what society considers normal – Sherlock, Loki, James Moriarty, Khan, The Doctor – can we understand them? Can we understand it, even when we acknowledge that what they are doing is a bit not good? Sherlock is considered to be asexual with Asperger’s or autism depending on whom is asked, whose social skills are considerably lacking to say the least. Loki, in his mind at least, feels he has always been slighted and slotted a life as second best living in the shadow of his brother Thor. “Sherlock”’s Moriarty, played beautifully psychotic in the hands of Andrew Scott, has a genius intellect comparable to Sherlock – that’s bored. Sherlock shoots walls when bored – we all can complete the phrase an idle mind is… Moriarty’s workshop is doing triple overtime simultaneously to keep from being bored, and if people die in the process well, “That’s what people DO!” Kahn, methods leave a lot to be desired, but he just wants to save those he considers his family. Well at least until we find out otherwise. The Doctor, that last of his kind, an alien by our standards, is a man alone, not just in the world, but in the universe, yet he is the most human of us all. Protagonist or antagonist, can they make us feel for them? It’s no different than the adoration of a sports figure, other than our characters are mostly fictional.
I have encountered actors from various shows I’ve been enamored of over the years, and not once did I lose my mind in those moments. I had my internal five seconds, Isn’t that? Wait – that’s! OMG that’s! for I am sort of human (except for when I must return to my gelatinous form to rest or forever lose my ability to shapeshift ß bonus points to those who get the reference), but again, that’s internal. Once I get those five seconds out the way, outwardly I’m good. Depending on where we are, I may or may not nod in acknowledge of their existence and keep it moving. I presume, like me, they are trying to get from Point A to Point B with as little distraction as possible. Maybe it comes with being born and raised in New York City. Maybe it’s my natural personality, but Toodles RDJ, Laterz Cumberbatch, grown woman here, I got things to do. Who attend 2016’s Tartan Day Parade in the rain because Sam Heughan was the Grand Marshall? This fangirl right here raises her hand high.
Did I get up at 3 in the morning to be downtown by four in the morning to stand in line, to be hopefully be up to stand around outside for a chance to see Robert Downey Jr at 7 in the morning for a news show? Uh, no. There are limits to my fandom. Am I in the process of watching all six seasons of “Game of Thrones” again, because I know Season 7 starts Sunday, July 16? Yep. Have I intermittently re-watched favored episodes of “Sherlock” because I still can’t believe the series might be over – forever? Yes. Have I watched “Captain America: Civil War” again? Yes, because it’s a damned good movie and I am ready to comply. Do I have a OTP in any of my fandoms? God no, but do I “ship” aw hell yeah. Why? I do this because…
I am a grown woman and I am a fangirl.
If they can make us think, if they can make us smile or laugh, if they can make us feel. They’ve got us. And just like Ross eventually won Rachel in “Friends”. They get inside our heads first, making themselves at home in our lives, and before we know it our hearts. When what’s inside them calls to us what’s inside us, we see beyond their physical and all of them becomes something beautiful in our hearts. Once they have taken up residence there, telling us it’s just a television show, is akin to the athletically challenged spouse telling their sports oriented significant other, it’s just a game. We know this, I know this. I did not let my love of “Game of Thrones” and “Outlander” interfere with my trip to Toronto. Hello? That is what DVRs are for. Priorities! The antics of Jon Snow and James Alexander Malcolm McKenzie Fraser were the last things on my mind from the moment I locked my front door to the moment I opened it once again. However, fifteen minutes after I walked in the house I had the remote in my hand. I do this because …
I am a grown woman and I am a fangirl.
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Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 Challenge – Week 22
A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.
A couple of weekends ago, many fans of the rock band Avenged Sevenfold were really upset when the band did not appear to open for Metallica in Philadelphia. The band was forced to cancel when guitarist Synyster Gates’ wife went into labor and he flew home to be present for the birth of their first child. I can only imagine how much worse the discord would have been had it been a member of Metallica.
Coach Sarunas Jasikevicius, a former NBA player with the Indiana Pacers and current head coach for Žalgiris Kaunas of the Lithuanian League was being questioned by a reporter for allowing one of his players to leave, during the midst of his team’s semi-finals games nonetheless, to attend the birth of his first child. Firstly, Jasikevicius’ initial expression was priceless. You could all but hear him think Did that asshole really just ask me this bullshit? His spoken response was condescending to the reporter, but frankly he had it coming. It was a stupid question, clearly intended to start some drama, that backfired and the reporter ended up getting schooled as the kids say.
Life happened, literally.
Granted, musicians only tour every few years as new music drops. Concert fans can pay a lot of money to view their favorites bands live, still it was a concert.
Sports fans have more potential for access to their favorite players and when it’s crunch time I understand fans want the best players front and center, still it was a game.
This is playing a semi-final game or performing at a concert compared to bringing new life into the world for the first time. I might have more sympathy to those upset by this were it the third, fourth, fifth baby. Clearly you get how it works by then, but the for first time. If the partner has the chance to be there, and s/he wants to be there, then s/he should be there – period.
I would have liked to hope that even most those who choose not to have children, or those who have been there done that, can at least have some empathy, but as always, social media snatched the rose-colored glasses off of that fantasy — quick. That this is even a question for some people as to why at least a first time-parent would want to drop everything and be there, honestly kind of appalls me.
Kudos to the fans in Philly who were understandably disappointed, but took it in stride. Kudos to Jasikevicius who understands that a player’s personal needs will sometimes trump his professional ones.
Priorities:
— Some people have them.
— Some people at least understand them.
— Some people really need to seriously get theirs in order.
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Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 Challenge – Week 21
A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.
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It’s Slice of Life Tuesday – let’s see how others are slicing it up:
Let’s see who among you have been paying attention: Who is my favorite band?
Happy Mother’s Day to me! Metallica stage at MetLife Stadium 05/14/17
And who is in the tri-state area this week? Yup, Metallica! Being the hard rocking mama I am, of course I saw them this weekend as the played Mother’s Day; VIP section naturally. Oh, how I love those guys! So worth the temporary tinnitus!
At some point in the concert James (Hetfield co-founder, lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist for the band — for those who don’t know), asks the audience who wants to here some old school Metallica from the early 80’s. A friend seated next to me promptly announced that she had not been born yet.
A woman sitting on the other side of my friend appalled by her relative youth visibly cringed “God I feel old.”
I laughed, rolled my eyes at my friend and told her to shush, reminding her that she was younger than my children. Granted, it is only by a couple of years, but technically years younger.
“You can’t be that old stop it. I know, because I’m pretty up there.” She shrugged clearly thinking herself the matron among the three of us.
I took a good look at her, figuring she was in her very late 30s and grinned “I guarantee you, I am older than you.”
Numbers were shared and as I figured, not only was I older than she, but by nearly a decade (I am a month younger than James Hetfield – for comparison). She was gobsmacked to say the least.
I grinned whipping my purple curls around as the opening notes of “Whiplash” sounded.
“Hey, this just means we have plenty of years left to rock out and we’ll look damn good doing it!”
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Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 Challenge – Week 20
A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.
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It’s Slice of Life Tuesday – let’s see how other’s are cutting it up:
We are in Week 19 of the year 2017 and in that time twelve transpersons of color has been murdered in the United States.
Last Thursday Brenda Bostick, a 59-year-old Black transgender woman, died from an attack on Tuesday April 25th in Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood. She is at least the twelfth trans person murdered this year in this country alone – all of them women of color, one Native and eleven Black. The others are Mesha Caldwell, Jamie Lee Wounded Arrow, JoJo Striker, Tiara Richmond, Keke Collier, Chyna Gibson, Ciara McElveen, Jaquarrius Holland, Alphonza Watson, Symone Marie Jones and Chayviss Reed.
Think about it: That is roughly every 10 days. Let me repeat that – Every. 10. Days. We are not even at the halfway point of this year. What does that portend?
According to the Human Rights Campaign there were at least 21 deaths in 2015 and 27 deaths in 2016 of transgender people due to fatal violence. Bostwick was attacked on April 25th, today is May 9th, fifteen days. By this unfortunate barometer, someone has been attacked – the question is how soon will we be reading – watching – hearing about the murder of yet another transperson of color?
Please note the use of “at least” in all of the numbers given, for they only represent the murders against transpersons that we know of for a certainty. Only the heavens know how many other murders, which have slipped under the radar, have actually occurred.
The victims of this violence are overwhelmingly transgender women of color, who live at the dangerous crossroads of transphobia, racism and sexism which often lead to high rates of poverty, unemployment, and homelessness. And some of these homicides have not yet been identified as hate crimes due to lack of information about the perpetrators or motives.
It has been reported that LGBT+ people are more likely to be targets of hate crimes than any other minority group, and within that group the percentage of these crimes of misogyny, racism and LGBT+ against trans-people are higher and rising.
It is an ironic dichotomy that while this country has becomes more openly accepting, it has undeniably also become more openly hateful and worse more openly violent in its hate.
Are crimes against people of color, women, gays and/or trans new? Of course not. What is news is even with the documented increase of violence against transgender people at an all-time high and potentially rising, national media coverage is severely lacking. I’m minded of the song “Small Circle of Friends”.
“Oh look outside the window, there’s a woman being grabbed
They’ve dragged her to the bushes and now she’s being stabbed
Maybe we should call the cops and try to stop the pain
But Monopoly is so much fun, I’d hate to blow the game
And I’m sure it wouldn’t interest anybody
Outside of a small circle of friends”
While the protest song covered several events as commentary on human apathy, it song was inspired by the case of a woman who was stabbed to death outside her home in Queens, New York, while dozens of her neighbors reportedly ignored her cries for help. That the woman then was presumably CIS and the women now are trans make no damn difference.
The point of it being if it’s not in our own back yard many don’t want/care/are afraid to acknowledge it. I live in NYC, where there is a heavy LGBT+ influence. These deaths were of note here before Brenda Bostick’s murder in Chelsea, a neighborhood of New York City, placed her in our proverbial, if not literal, backyard. That these murders happen anywhere is horrific enough, having one happen here in the city of The Stone Wall Riots, a place pretty much considered the birthplace of gay liberation and LGBT+ rights, it seems especially galling.
In a sequitur/non-sequitur Sunday was the MTV Movie & TV Awards. In an unprecedented move MTV removed genders from all of their categories. Men, Women and Non-Binaries competed against each other for the honors. I’m waiting for the day when the news reports on a male, female or non-binary event it will be reported without the “trans” modifier. Not because I do not want to talk about transgender, but because what happens to a man, a woman, or a non-binary, that the person is also transgender should not matter.
It is an unfortunate fact that stigma based on sexual orientation is still widespread. I know there are documents, commentary etc. covering the myriad psychologies of those who commit these types of crimes. None of it excuses it. Preaching to the choir, hiding it from the news, not talking about it and/or outright dismissing it, will make these murders go away. Public education, policy change and community efforts are needed to address this. Overcoming these prejudices will take a lot of work. A LOT of work.
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Let’s see how others are slicing it up this week:
Slice of Life Writing Tuesday Challenge – Two Writing Teachers
Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 19
A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.
Was speaking with a friend regarding how I like going to galleries to see all the different kinds of art out there and how much I wish I had the funds to purchase some. The discussion eventually lead to the following question —
Do you need to agree with an artist’s lifestyle or politics to appreciate their art? To spend money on it?
No, I do not have to agree with an artist’s personal views to appreciate the art. What’s the joke…? I don’t know what art is, but I know what I like. Often times I see/hear/read the art long before I know the views/lifestyle of the artist anyway and have made my own opinion of the art. The last time I checked, artists are people and definitely have their own opinions and theories on any variety of subjects, as I have mine. There are going to be differences of opinion. Little of which has bearing on whether how I will perceive the person’s respective arts. If it moves me, it moves me.
So many people liked Tom Cruise’s body work until he became outspoken on Scientology (and the infamous couch jump on Oprah). Okay, he was (is still?) an ass personally. The backlash was odd and misplaced. So many could not separate the man from the various movie characters. It is interesting now that his personal life is such horrid gossip fodder, the general opinion on his acting ability seems to be rising again. It is/was the same with Mel Gibson and Clint Eastwood. Providing Gibson can keep his rants to minimum, and Eastwood sticks to being a rambling curmudgeon only between “Action!” and “Cut!”, that is. I suspect the same will happen with them as well, as people tend to forget/stop caring quickly enough if you let them. That’s not to say given their respective faux pas, I would never see a movie either are in again because of it. I know I would simply because I respect their work as actors, if not necessarily the current state of who each is as a person right now.
To spend money on it, though? Well, that has a caveat or few.
I have a friend who will not purchase anything from a particular band because he despises the lead singer’s political views. My friend loved the band’s music, all the way until he learned of the singer’s view. Now it is all about how the band sucks. He can’t bring himself to separate the art from the artist. Now, I agreed the artist is a jerk, however, this artist continually has songs that impressed me in spite of my opinion of him personally. As long as that continues, I can support his artistic work. If it moves me, it moves me.
As a woman of color in America, should I discover that a sculpture I simply adored and am seriously considering its purchase was created by a staunch, outspoken member and defender of the Ku Klux Klan, it would certainly give me pause. As I stated before, it would not stop me from appreciating the beauty of the art, but I cannot knowingly aid someone in a cause I am solemnly against. If I have already purchased the item before I made the discovery, I would not return it. I would not be happy for quite the while of my accidental contribution to the cause, but I’d eventually get over it. And knowing me I’d likely have an anecdote along the lines “it’s amazing how could someone so ugly could create something of such beauty”.
After all, if it moves me, it moves me.
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Let’s see how others are slicing it up this week:
Slice of Life Writing Tuesday Challenge – Two Writing Teachers
Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 17
A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.
Beep
Balloon bubble shimmers green,
On cue – jarred springs twist,
Spark, curl
Beep
Lulled shadow clouds melt,
Leaving scars that dance, skip,
Journey on breezes
Beep
Drizzling grins
Don’t spill
in open giggles
Beep
Dawn rose in ghost whispers
To breathe still
but I
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…
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Today at dVerse we’re asked by Grace to write a Quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words – not including the title, and to keep it still. “Still” being the word that must be used in the poem. I went for the ultimate stillness.
As an added bonus this is also with all the words. The word list so far:
dance, lull, bubble, grin, melt, shimmer, twist, skip, green, breeze, spill, rose, journey, jar, leaves, open, shadow, cloud, spark, cue, breath(e), scar, curl, whisper, dawn, ghost, giggle, spring, balloon, drizzle, still
dVerse ~Poets Pub | Quadrille # 31
I see a guy I know speaking with a mutual friend. Everyone knows we have a ridiculous, but fun flirtationship. I walk up to him as the friend, who did not see me – because she surely would have stayed, is walking away and stop inches in front of him, my face deadpan. He shakes his head and waits. I say nothing, sip coffee and wait.
Guy (knowingly): Can I do something for you?
Me (still deadpan – sips coffee): No. You’re still standing.
Guy (shakes head): If I thought you were serious I’d run.
Me (arching brow): Were I serious you wouldn’t be standing.
Guy (grinning): What would I be doing?
Me (smirking): Calling your Lord’s name.
Guy (curiously): In fear, pain or pleasure?
Me (nonchalantly): If you’re calling His name?-In the fear of pain. If you’re calling Mine?-in the pleasure of fear.
Guy (blinks rapidly): uh…
** I grin, take another sip and start to walk away **
Guy (shakes his head reverently): I’ll be damned.
Me (sashaying away): You’ve met me; you already are.
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We’ve reached past the halfway point of National Poetry Writing Month, Week 1 of 52 Essays 2017 and my email inbox has days’ worth of writing prompts from the several groups I am a part of. Yet, I have posted nothing since last Tuesday. From February 28th to April 10th I posted something everyday single day. There were also days where I posted multiple times, such as April 4th, where I posted thrice in a 24-hour span. Yet for the past seven days, I’ve posted nothing. Maybe it is something of a burnout, I don’t know. What I do know is that it is not writer’s block.
There are 28 items sitting in draft mode. Some are partially done poems needing tweaking, some essay ideas to be fleshed out, three are nothing more than a couple of lines of an idea I want to work with at some point. Thus, I know it is not because I do not have anything to say. Maybe it’s because I have so much to say and it’s all bottle-necked. Still, with the exception of my Verbal Diarrhea Diaries, I have humbly learned that every emotion that emits or bon mot that bubbles from my lips is not necessarily something that I want put to print or pixel; this is especially true with essays.
It would be much too easy for me to become one of those writers who quickly spouts off on all the many events that happen- the tragedies, the scandals, the oh so many injustices in the world, with commentary from the hip. I admire the writers who can regularly, and seemingly within a mere few hours of an event, publish intelligently heartfelt, or uproariously satirical content. I even admire the tweeters can who evoke the right contextual chord in 140 characters or less within minutes of an event. I do consider myself a decent story-teller, and am humbled when someone messages me wanting to know if I am going to comment on some event or another. Yes, it pleases me that some want to hear/read what I have to say whether in poem, prose, essay or my Verbal Diarrhea Diaries, but I also feel something of a responsibility to that which will remain behind in these pixels long after I am gone.
The permanency of the Internet certainly makes me think more carefully about what I say, and when and how I want to say it, because I do not want my contributions to be little more than mindless chatter in the white noise of the Internet. It is that responsibility, in the week or so before April tenth, where I have increasingly found myself thinking of better ways to express a thought coherently only after I hit ‘publish’, which has me galled to no end. That lexical lethargy had become increasingly worrisome and seemed to hit its head last week where the first time ever I trashed something I wrote. I did not return it to draft mode to be reworked – I trashed it. I can all but hear certain writer friends of mine gasp in the horror at this cardinal writing sin – I know, I KNOW, I sincerely apologize to you and to myself for that as well. So in the midst of what should have been another busy week of words, I chose to pause, to step back, to wait.
And in that pause instead of writing, I went back to reading. I have found one writer’s adage to be true – the best way to learn to write is to read. I like to read, or reread, the words of others who have inspired me to write. Read those writers whose voices, have helped me to discover my own. After all, we learn to read before we learn to write, so it makes sense in a way. I read some for pleasure and some for research of the ideas pieces in draft mentioned above. Twice I found myself donating a couple of hours to Wiki Walking. And I say donate as opposed to lost as most of the information accidentally gained was worth the time spent.
I want to feel comfortable in what I write, that I have something to say that makes sense. Sometimes I need to write because I feel confident that what I say that will inform or entertain others and sometimes I need to read so that I can be better informed and entertained myself. What I will always need regardless, are times like week -when no matter what is going on and as I pick up my pen again this week – is to know which to choose and when.
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Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 16
A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.
I was asked if Metallica and Linkin Park had new releases and were touring around the same year, which caused them to have concerts on the same day which band would I chose.
The reality is I am surrounded by so many venues and both bands always play multiple days in a given arena, that this conflict would never really be an issue. The question would be which one would I want to see first? And that is a damned good question.
Ask anyone who knows me about my favorite band and all will unequivocally tell you Metallica. It’s hard to even write their name without wanting to scream it out loud, immediately follow by an expletive, at least one. My love for Metallica has been unflinching since the first chords of “Master of Puppets” entered my pysche. No, I was not there from the very beginning of their career, but I have been a loyal acolyte to the altar of James, Lars, Kirk and Robert (with nods to Jason, Dave, Ron and a RIP to Cliff, of course). However, those who know me really well know I also have a thisclose second musical love and that is Linkin Park.
My adoration for Joe, Dave, Brad, Mike, Rob and Chester runs deep. They remain the only other band, besides Metallica, whose music I will preorder notes unheard simply on the faith of who they are.
When this began…
It was 3am and I was in the midst of a three day insomnia run. I had given up the ghost of pretending I was going to sleep and turned on the TV. I was flipping through channels when I came across MTV’s Insomniac Theater, or something like that. One would think with a title as such it would be something sedate right? But this is MTV, it was playing rock, hard rock, thrash rock, loud rock and I hit the channel just as one video was fading out and what faded in was the sound of water draining. Huh? My head popped up, and some of you LP fans reading this may have already known from that small descriptor the song was Crawling.
I can’t seem to find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence)
(I’m convinced that there’s)
(Just too much pressure to take)
I’ve felt this way before so insecure
These lyrics described exactly how I was feeling about myself in the world at that time. It was a whole new thing for me, a place where I can find, or is that lose?, myself in.
The song hit hard and unapologetic. Chester Bennington, lead vocalist for Linkin Park, was unforgiving as he growled his way into my id, fucking trashed it like a drugged out rocker’s hotel room and by God I wanted more! When the video ended I immediately turned off the television hyperventilating, not knowing what the fuck hit me, but I remember I finally fell asleep and felt so much better upon waking. I could barely contain myself after work long enough to get to the record store, buy the CD, get home and blast it. The CD? Hybrid Theory. And thus a new love was borne.
Hybrid Theory stayed in my portable CD player for at least, at least, two solid months. I mean I am pretty sure I listened to nothing else, but Lincoln Park for a solid two months. Even now when I hear certain songs from that album, my mind automatically starts playing the opening notes of the next track in album order. Play One Step Closer and my mind segues into With You; A Cure For The Itch will fade into Pushing Me Away. If you have the extended version which I did, you also got to hear My December and that remains in my mental rotation as well.
But wait…
As happily stunned as I was by Hybrid Theory, the group’s next release Meteora simply floored me. You know how for many bands the sophomore release can be meh? Well, Linkin Park clearly did not get that memo. Musically, it follows a similar vein as Hybrid Theory, but lyrically it hits the emotions harder.
Depression –
Can’t you see that you’re smothering me?
Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control
‘Cause everything that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you
Anger –
Time won’t heal this damage anymore
Don’t turn your back on me I won’t be ignored!
Recovery –
I want to heal,
I want to feel,
What I thought was never real
I want to let go of the pain I felt so long
(Erase all the pain ’til it’s gone)
I’ve quoted lyrics from Numb, Faint, and Somewhere I Belong respectively here, but really the entire album simply works for me. There is a reason it remains their highest grossing studio release. Chester’s voice combined with Mike Shinoda’s rap, and Joe Hahn’s sampling/mixing was a heady combination. If The Devil Went Down To Georgia were rock/rap based, Meteora would have been the din that did Mephistopheles in. And they didn’t stop there…
Their next album, Minutes to Midnight was released ten years ago – yet…
Meanwhile, the leader just talks away
Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay
And the rest of the world watching at the end of the day
Both scared and angry like “What did he say?”
Now, replace “nightly news” with “Twitter tweets”. Sounds familiar? It’s their third album in and they are still speaking what’s inside my head, then and now.
A Thousand Suns
God save us everyone,
Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?
For the sins of our hands,
The sins of our tongues,
The sins of our fathers,
The sins of our young.
No!
Living Things
No, you can tell ’em all now
I don’t back up, I don’t back down
I don’t fold up, and I don’t bow
I don’t roll over, don’t know how
The Hunting Party
You’re guilty all the same
Too sick to be ashamed
You want to point your finger
But there’s no one else to blame
The Hunting Party marks something of a departure for LP in that it is their first album to bring in guest appearances with other artists to collaborate.
Now include their one off singles like New Divide (from Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen – Movie Soundtrack) and the hits keep coming. Another standout for me was Chester’s cover of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep that he performed live during a concert. In the clear opposite of the style that is the earmark of his general singing with Linkin Park, here it is stripped down and one of the times you get to hear him just sing. It is an almost acapella cover that showcases the strength and beauty of the man’s voice. There is a reason he did a short tour on lead vocals with Stone Temple Pilots – the man can sing.
Now, I am eagerly awaiting their seventh studio release – One More Light set to be released May 19th. In the interim I am enjoying the first single released, Heavy, featuring Kiiara. Heavy marks another first for Linkin Park with this song being the first studio release for them with a female vocalist. It’s a little pop-ish to me, but I like it. And there is the recently released Battle Symphony, lyrically more along the Linkin Park I know and love.
For all the brouhaha of the negatives some speak of rock and rap music, one would think that a band who has successfully, and consistently, done both well would be a monster. And yes they are, believe you me, but they are my kind of monster. These savage beasts sooth this beauty. I continue to listen to them, especially when seeking a way to ease my anger, or when I feel the stress about to overwhelm. All I have to do is put in my earbuds, or if home turn up the volume, and let myself drown in their music. To quote One Republic here – everything that drowns me, makes me want to fly. When I need to immerse myself in their music, they are my CPR and I am always resurrected in a better mood.
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Slice of Life Writing Challenge – Two Writing Teachers
Writing Our Lives #52essays2017 challenge – Week 15
A year-long weekly personal essay/memoir/creative nonfiction writing challenge. To learn more about this challenge or to participate, check out Vanessa Martir’s website and learn about it.
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