The Two Queens of the Chessboard that is Jaws. Although these Queens don’t exactly move the playing field very far. They’re still influential to me.
Let’s just get into it. It’s 10 pm and I’m an hour past my bed time trying to power through the hellscape of life.
In this corner we have…this guy! Probably has a name! But he asks the questions we’re all, and I mean ALL wondering. He’s succinct. He’s got flair. He code switches from butch to femme like a boss. It’s: him!
Seriously, listen to him the rest of the scene I think. This line delivery is an out of left field revelation, pointing to a much denser layered and honest character under the surface.
Anyways. Get it girl.
because in this corner, we have a champion. And if anyone read my Hallowqueen post, you know I have a type. And boy oh girl does this one fit the bill. The lewk. The glasses. The vibe. The vocals. Good luck first queen, because the second Queen is ready to rock. Our. World.
its Mrs Taft.
Effortless line reading.
Asking more hard hitting questions. And she’s sharp as a tack. The first one to react, with absolute drama, to the nails on a chalkboard literally sequence.
here she is boys!
This is how you make a feast out of a meal. Watch an learn.
heres the part where I would share the clip. But. I don’t like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. So. Pass.
All Hail Taft! And Whatsisname! The only way I’m making it through the helliday!
I have a lot of thoughts and a basket case of mental disorders that make it difficult to formulate them into anything other than gibberish.
So I decided to use pictures. Specifically pictures of Jenna Maroney. For who better encapsulates the concept of “me” than Jenna Maroney?
(Although if she calls out sick, her understudies are warmed up and ready)
Expect lots of pictures. A hint of bitterness. Fury Rock (this Fall on NBC). Captions. And theatre references (if you don’t have a throughline of theatre running twixt those veins I shall will myself to reincarnate as you next time ’round the sun).
Now, let’s begin.
This is us. Sort of. For we are simply Chicago sixes thinking we’re a New York ten. When our singing style is throaty and pitchy but we tell ourselves it’s “character” (or as one of my high schooler’s once told me not unkindly but not complimentarily, mine was “unique“). We come into the room loud and confident, having done minimal work (a thrice a year voice lesson and the ability to hit a muddy double when the situation is ripe for it) but gotten cast by life in the guppy pool. A burden This is who we really are. For we chose theatre as a career. Or a hobby. It’s not necessarily an insult, because what we’ve done with those arts and crafts supplies jammed inside our carcasses is neigh near astronomical.Speaking of astronomical, that sure does give us a Chip on our shoulder. Sometimes you use AI. to make an Instagram trend of your face as a Disney character like Chip from BATB.
It happens. Just…try to stop, because the world is burning and AI is definitely assisting it. https://www.unep.org/news-and-stories/story/ai-has-environmental-problem-heres-what-world-can-do-aboutThis image will make many an appearance. A mantra, a motif, a theme. This is basically what we think a Republican is. A Republican is someone who will either vote for Kamala Harris as if it’s their deepest darkest secret or someone who’ll vote for Trump and probably still says the n word which, it’s 2024, my white relative in Christ, please know that makes you racist, especially in the rather derogatory way you say it.. Really, they’re just a reflective scapegoat for us to sit comfortably on a garbage heap of confusion on a throne made of ironies on a cushion made of privilege on a-She’s back, and so soon.Anyways, time to talk about genocide. We’re complicit! All of us! Because tax dollars and dulled empathy. But somehow we’re putting that to the side and playing “DW ignoring the sign because she can’t read.” Or saying things like “they’ve been fighting for years why should I care now?”This is what we look like rebranding the genocide happening overseas as a “wait til November and then we’ll fix it. For now, let’s just say it’s everyone’s right to their side of the story!”Life is just a series of power moves. And some of it is social righteousness. I fall for it all the time. This is what I look like trying to be cool to my high schoolers, not realizing I’ve aged from “cool older brother” to “tolerable step-uncle” in their eyes. It’s also what we think of our parasocial relationships with figures such as celebrities, singers, politicians, and queer characters played by straight allies on Marvel shows. I have no idea if this gif will gif, so we’ll see. But many of us do not have a high level of real time traumas going on in our lives, so we glom onto others. Basically, the most accessible trauma is ours too! Listen. We all do it. But sometimes we do it in a way that’s gross, excessive, and way too “the country doing the massive annihilating bombing is the real victim, I can play both sides if I want, that makes me a moral American and anyone different than me is a slut.” What if the theme was “not shaming people who hate what our country has become and are disenfranchised by the system of mess we have in place?”
…Or sluts. That’s a good theme too. With a splash of corporate shilling for good measure.I think that one person on twitter who’s freaked out that “Sabrina Carpenter’s music is too sexual for kids” wouldn’t last a day in Jenna’s thought tapes. Also I’m pretty sure most of my high schoolers are embarrassed that we of a certain ‘ennial listen to Sabrina Carpenter and sing her lyrics at the top of our lungs like our situationship is in anyway groundbreaking (***** if you’re reading this, heartbreak is one thing my ego’s another I beg you don’t embarrass m-)There’s our girl.Fascinating how quickly I went from “genocide is wrong stop both-sidesing it you absolute idiot” to “wah wah a person doesn’t like me.” I feel like an Instagram story during a tragic circumstance (the whipash is real, but we’ve all done it).Wow, spouting rage on a website that is canonically unread, go me I guess?Ultimately it’s us. We should be smarter than this. But most of us are theatre majors or pacifists who have, and please let me know if you follow this analogy, been “cast by life in the guppy pool.”
And that’s a very low-level of informational intelligence and high level of overly emotional intelligence (and an inability to spell, look at my drafts for further evidence).
Factual Intelligence- the US is funding a genocide and pretending they will stop it any day now. They promised! And the US always does what they promise for the American people, ri- *gets tackled by every nihilistic tweeter in town*
Emotional Intelligence- a specific niche knowledge of Patti LuPone’s beef with Madonna, and doing nothing other than yas queening omg-ing her. Heyinternalized homophobia, when did you get here! Sigh. Can’t even stick the landing without that trauma making an appearance.There was a question? There’s a viable answer? Is it Two state? Two party? Two Toed Tom from Abarat, a book series Clive Barker started but seems to have abandoned after destroying the world in Book Three and now we’re left with the ruins of a potentially beautiful world behind us and a blank canvas before us…oh. The only constant is that our world is a blank canvas full of potential. We have a beautiful set of brushes. The issue is the store that sells them is gatekeepingly manipulative like me when my childhood acquaintances wanted to play anything other than what I played but I’m pretty sure their mom said “let him play stuffed animal Pokemon, he has no other friends” and that’s how we ended up playing stuffed animal Pokemon, which theoretically sounds fun but actually just created a bigger mess…Every institution is gatekeeping but it’s up to us to…stop them? I guess? By not giving them our business but there are only two stores so now we have to pick the store that doesn’t want me to be head bulleted by a Bullet Bill of straightness but I still have to pick the one that doesn’t care if I get head bulleted by a Bullet Bill of straightness unless it seems like everyone has an issue with that so if the numbers poll in my favor…oops. I made it about me. We’ve all been there. I’m clearly guilty of it. Another white person with the bare minimum of societal-danger-drama against him projecting onto the situation.And my electrolytes could do with a jolt. Here’s another jolt- trans people and enby people have uteruses, and de rigueur par for the course a la carte bonjour (white woman will post about women losing reproductive care and if I lightly mention “and trans people!” it’s as if I said “women deserve death” ok Jo Row[redacted] there’s a place for everyone, someone getting rights doesn’t mean you lose ’em. Let the Hufflepuffs get a few house points in this overstretched analogy).Back to my cave of depression where I don’t post on instagram because it makes me feel both vistavision saturated in competitiveness and smaller than I am.
Cathy Brenner : Well, Mom, he’s the first to admit it. He spends half his day in the detention cells at the Hall of Justice.
Lydia Brenner : In a democracy, Cathy, everyone is entitled to a fair trial. Your brother’s practice…
Cathy Brenner : Aw, Mom, please. I know all that democracy jazz. They’re still hoods….He has a client now who shot his wife in the head six times. Six times! Can you imagine it? I mean, even twice would be overdoing it, don’t you think?
Human darkness, my friends. The Birds are secondary to the sociopath that will grow up to haunt that coastal town.
2.) The Tension Between Melanie and Annie…
Annie is a straight up downstage left bitter brunette drunk before her time.
Who then has to help host an 11 year-olds birthday party. For the man she loves but can never have.
While tri-multaneously being the only one to suggest “let’s get the children in the house before this bird attack gets worse.”
3.) Melanie’s Outfit/Wool(?) is Aromatically Held On For Dear Life
She wears it for days. Covered in coastwater, sweat, stress, bird feathers, cigarette smoke, and a prayer.
4.) The Sheriff Is About As Good As We Can Imagine.
smallest pic in town
“The birds attacked us at my sister’s birthday party–“
“How old?” He asks, neglecting to gather any further information about the seagulls.
5.) Lydia Does Not Mention the Bird-ssacre’d Body While Fleeing the Scene of the Crime
She had a lot going on, what with judging the romantic liaisons of her adult son and the chickens not eating and the Jessica Tandy of it all.
~In which I revel in a specific type of character I greatly admire in Halloween movies.~
I have a type of character I gravitate towards. Rarely the main character. No, this character helps the plot but isn’t the hero-heroine we root for. No, this is…the older-ish woman who contributed something, and I mean *something* to the plot.
They make me feel safe. Maybe it’s their character actor energy. Maybe it’s their wacky presence. Or maybe it’s their familiarity to a specific dance teacher at Columbia College Chicago.
Whatever it is…they should be celebrated. Let’s celebrate ’em.
1.) The Realtor from Amityville Horror
I mean how absolutely DARE no one tell me about her earlier in life? Yes, she sells an iconic haunted house to a couple leading them to utter ruin, but, like…I’d let her. She’s wacky. She’s kooky. She rocks a statement scarf (blouse?) and pair of glasses. She’s Mrs. Townsend.
2.) Laurie Metcalf
I’m not going to share her role in the movie beyond saying it’s Laurie Metcalf. And her pantsuit is, and I cannot overstate this, rocking.
^^agreed? Agreed.
3.) The mystery woman from Friday the 13th yes I know who she is but I detest spoilers
Shes the definition of spry. And for reasons I won’t disclose, she can take a dang punch. Plus her sweater game is on (needle) point.
4.) The Pediatrician from The Shining who looks a lot like my professors from college
Columni, discuss.
5.) Tan-freaking-Gina Barron’s
Never have I loved a character upon sight as much as Zelda Rubenstein’s Tangina. And I doubt I ever will. In a movie full of Poltergeisting horrors and wet whispers, she stands strong. And these lines are iconic, you can’t deny it.
I have a firm credo. You may think you’d survive a situation in a film because you are “built differently.” But you would not be able to survive a situation. I’m
Maybe it’s just me and my limitations. Maybe it’s Maybelline. Who knows. But I have absolute doubts about your survival skills in a horror movie. I mean come on. We’re all on death’s door the moment our allergies kick in (or is that just me?). And go catatonic once we hear the phone ring (again, me?).
But some situations are hyper specific. Sometimes you end up in a Hitchcockian (say it. Out loud) situation that feels very 60s and 70s coded. Perhaps it’s a murder plot. Or a freak attack of nature.
I was curious how I would fare in some HC based plots. Maybe me, going through this self-aware journey, will lead you to evaluate your own journey. Maybe it’ll make you chuckle. Maybe it’ll inspire a serial killer to find and stalk me (and fall in love with me? Blade-fingers crossed, people).
Let’s find out. Mild spoilers ahead.
1.) Psycho
Would I be uncomfortably seduced by Anthony Perkins, putting down my guard and ending up a victim of shower-based violence?
You bet your bottom dollar I would. Have you *seen* Anthony Perkins? No, I mean, have you seen him in the black sweater he wears during act 2 of the movie?
Perkins was the blueprint for Hot Priest. Not that he played a priest (although repressed, dresses up, has stifling values, maybe Norman just needed a different calling?). But I digress. One look into that kind resourceful face and I’d be a puddle. Only one thing could save me…
…Asking him to run away with me to Vermont. My “Too much too soon ‘Hey I Just Met You and This Is Crazy’” personality would scare even Norman Bates away. My fate would be A-Bated for another day.
2.) Rear Window
Would I go along with Grace Kelly’s conspiratorial schemes involving spying on/breaking and entering a nefarious neighbors house?
Honey. She was the Princess of Monaco. Plus, this shot from the film single handedly reminds me that I’m a bi guy.
Like when I saw this in high school I was like “Well I must be straight.” Although when I saw Psycho I also thought “Yeah I want to look like Norman Bates. And that’s it just look like him and nothing else.”
Wrong Jake. You wanted Norman Bates to look at you.
Anyways. Grace Kelly could tell me to kick an election official and I’d do it.
3.) North by Northwest
Would I get lost and realize I’m afraid of planes?
Yes. And I am. Minorly. Like I don’t *need* a drink on a plane. But it helps. Sadly I can’t outrun a crop duster plane. So death shall come to me once again.
4.) Vertigo
Would I change my identity for a man and let my fear of heights lead to death?
Oh honey. It reads like an autobiography. Of course I’d change for a man. Of course I’m afraid of heights. It’s the perfect crime. And I’d go right along with it.
5.) The Birds
Would I be killed by birds trying to rescue children from their feathery maws?
Absolutely not. For once I’d live. The children have to learn how to manage on their own. Please. What is education if not furthering the future?
See this hero? This looks like a WW4 ad (fight the birds save the children etc). This ain’t me.
Hopefully this has given you the opportunity to explore who you are as a person. Let me know if you think you’d make it through any of these films. And if so … *How*?!
This is a short but meaningful list. No it will not include Wendy’s running, because she is going through TRAUMA (pronounced Trowma by JLC) at the time. Both Wendy and Shelley tbh.
Also I think I wrote an article last iteration of this site, and if I’m correct it was very good.
Anyways. Here are a few moments. Let’s party like it’s 1920s.
This ash line^^^
Wendy asking, unprompted, if the mountain range they’re driving through is the one the Donner Party initiated.
Wendy asking the progressive childhood doctor if she wants a smoke and getting turned down.
The woman blinking in the final photograph
Wendy taking a relatable and stressed out power nap while Danny is going full REDRUM
This guy
Wendy and Jack giving voice to my two inner monologue paraphrases
The lack of acknowledgement for Halloran’s taste in artwork
And Jack’s reaction (which is also mine to many of you on this app lately)
“Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him.” ~ Dostoevsky
White Christmas is a Holiday classic. It’s positive, colorful, catchy, and fun. The conflict is light and uncomplicated, the plot pleasant. How does one go through life without such resistance?
That’s the question. And the answer.
There are villains in White Christmas. They lurk, and they boldly appear. Some are small, and some are powerhouses. Together, they all come as one to create a hero’s narrative, one of pro- and antagonists.
Who among them are said heroes and villains? Let us find out the darkness that lies at the heart of…White Christmas. Let us find out…
Who is the true villain of White Christmas?
John (John Brascia) – Some might call him a handsome devil, implying villainy. But come on, look at that face. Those moves! No way no how. He’s the true hero, working hard on all of the choreography to make the others shine.
Doris Lenz (Barrie Chase) – Doris can do no wrong. She’s pure and simple, and doesn’t have a villainous, manipulative, or inquisitive bone in her body.
Literally no questions.
Rita (Lorinne Crawford) – Only slightly higher up for putting her friend Doris in harms way via a set-up.
Susan Waverly (Anne Whitfield) – Not a villain. Just another pawn in a villain’s game.
Bob Wallace (Bing Crosby) – Points docked for being in The Minstrel Number, but ultimately a good hearted soul trying to do right by some less-than-good-hearted characters.
Betty Haynes (Rosemary Clooney) – Vulnerable. A lack of communication does not warrant villainy, but simply asking Bob “What the heck’s going on?” would’ve solved plenty of problems. Not to mention, her Understudy was probably more than ready to perform in the big show on Christmas Eve, until Betty Haynes rolls up at the last possible second. A little villainous.
Major General Waverly (Dean Jagger) – Sunk all of his money into remodeling an inn without taking into consideration the off-the-beaten-path nature of its location, leading a professional touring performance troupe to put on a dang show in his honor, leading to romantic and professional miscommunication along the way. Absolutely a complex, complicated character.
Phil Davis (Danny Kaye) – Not as villainous as Judy, but he still went along with her plan. And the amount of times he used his injured arm as a bartering chip. Plus he, also, featured in The Minstrel Number. There’s some dastard in that man yet.
Judy Haynes (Vera-Ellen) – Manipulative. Machiavellian. The best dancer in a sea of hoofers. She gets points for not being in in the Minstrel Number (she is instead in Part 2, Mandy). But she still played a dastardly game of emotions. Such a Queen.
Emma Allen (Mary Wickes) – “In the age of information, ignorance is a choice” – Donald Miller. Had she simply taken in the proper information and processed properly, we would never have a multi-day chaotic mess. Emma played with fire, and everyone got burned. She never apologized, instead she simply sobbed crocodile tears into a kerchief and led the Busybody Club. Emma is the true villain.
In which we figure out which resource is best suited to help me in impossible kitchen missions.
Ethan Hunt?
Or Hunt’s Ketchup?
Let’s face it. Life is hard. Living solo isn’t what we were meant to do. We all need a little help from our friends. And sometime our friends are secret agents hell bent on saving the world. Or Ethan Hunt.
I’m talking about Hunt’s Ketchup. A strong flavored but ultimately harmless condiment. OR IS IT? Perhaps this ketchup is exactly what we the people need to help us accomplish dangerous kitchen missions.
Let’s investigate and find out just how much help these two resource can be- one an international spy, the other an international(?) food enhancer.
Mission: Accepted.
1.) Teaching Me How to Mince Garlic
Without spoiling anything, in the latest Mission Impossible (Dead Reckoning, rated 3 1/2 stars out of 5 by my dad) Ethan’s lack of a syllabus on training his team in knifework has consequences. In theory, he would be the weakest.
However, Hunt’s Ketchup is a blunt object. All it can do is mash garlic. Crushed garlic is not minced garlic. I’m sorry Hunt’s. Ethan takes the win here.
2.) Helping Me Not Panic When a Recipe Goes Horribly South
Ethan is surprisingly not the most level-headed in a crisis. To his credit he can accomplish a lot of seemingly impossible things. But he’s usually yelling at Benji, Luthor, and [insert rotating fourth member of team here]. I don’t do well when I get yelled at. Heck, I don’t do well when someone has a slight tone. Heck, I don’t do well when someone says something in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice.
Hunt’s gets the upper hand here. It’s calming, quiet, consistent, and won’t yell at me in the midst of a crisis of my own poor time management devising.
3.) Defusing a Bomb
Has Ethan defused a bomb? I don’t remember. Have I? No, I’m acutely afraid of cutting wires. Anyways, Ethan usually has an accomplice doing the defusing. So this might be his grey area. Hunt’s ketchup, though, is acidic. And acid can melt things. Now I was in remedial Chemistry (called Chem in Society, and the teacher was not happy to be teaching it), so I could be wrong, but if Hunt’s Ketchup is given a little encouragement, I firmly believe it would melt the bomb, defusing it of any violent tendencies.
4.) Infusing a Bombe
A Bombe is a multi-layer ice cream treat. Infusion is the process by which flavor is incorporated into it. I don’t know if I”ve seen Ethan eat in the series (my lack of research is astounding sometimes), but you know what does have flavor? Hunt’s Ketchup. Now, before everyone get’s up in arms, I never said the Bombe infusion had to be a good flavor. Hunt’s is just working with the materials it was given.
5.) Dodging a bullet
Alas, Hunt’s ketchup cannot speak. It can act as a shield, and a few squirts of the bottle could give the illusion I was shot, but the act of dodging a bullet? I believe Ethan takes the cake.
6.) Dodging a Magic Bullet Thrown Near My Head By an Enraged Gordon Ramsey
Ethan, at best, would yell “duck!” to me as said Magic Bullet was chucked by Gordon Ramsey because no one taught me how to properly mince garlic. Then make some quip like “Smooth(ie) move, operator,” as I’m staggering towards a concussion.
You know what I could use to evade the blender? Swinging my friend Hunt’s ketchup like a baseball bat to bat away the missile. Then I could show the overly processed condiment to Gordon Ramsey, and he would be so enraged he’d basically explode.
Victory to Hunt’s Ketchup.
And the winner is?
Well, it wasn’t too close. But Hunt’s Ketchup has proven to be the real victor in Impossible Kitchen Missions. Condiments win this round!
You ever just…run out of money and forget to pause your website, leading to the total annihilation of all the content you created? Gems such as “Which Human From Twilight is Most Likely to Be A Serial Killer,” (prescient, come see Twihard), “How Well Would Each MLB Mascot Protect Me in the Battle Against The White Witch of Narnia,” (precious), and, the one that began it all, “Assigning the Members of New Directions to Their Proper SATB Vocal Parts.”
And next thing you know, you end up in a job that laserbeams your mental health into smithereens, doing Outpatient Therapy (Sam if you’re reading this I miss our sessions and I’m doing fine*), and taking a brand new regime of medication, all while fighting the urge to not fall into your same nonromantic patterns despite your best attempts at water-sign sabotage (more on that later, Jake make sure to link it to that article when you write it).
And then you get some money and buy your website back, only instead it now costs 4,000 dollars and the person on the phone is like “so you’re good to buy it right?” And you’re like “maybe? I mean no, that’d be crazy right? Sorry, I know we’re not supposed to describe things as crazy, but if I’m certifiably crazy can I say it?” And the person on the phone is all “please just buy this website.” And you’re like “can you recover it?” And they say “yes, for the low low price of $400,” which to some of you is pocket change (I run in very fancy circles, as you can tell by my general appearance and communication styles), but to me is, well, an organ.
So instead you buy a new website, adding the word “The” to the front of the old name and running back to the world of run-on sentences read by your mom, brother, and occasional bored coworker (for those who read my articles and took my quizzes know that I love you eternally). I know, run-on sentences are either too ironic or too internet-speak, but here I am doing neither irony or hip-speak (typing all the while like I’m in A Clockwork Orange minus the sex and plus the milk (I drink milk, ok? Sue me. It goes good with cereal and cookies, don’t pretend almond milk is tasty, I’ve had it and I know you’re lying to yourself. You don’t have to like milk, but you need to be real with yourself)).
So now you’re editing (barely) this post, embracing the chaos that is your brain and dancing from one topic to the next. The old website never got me a job, boyfriend, or sponsorship. Will this one? Maybe a writing job, if the writing community suddenly gets super into mad ramblings (I know, mad is an antiquated term for people with barely-functioning mental illness that kept them locked in a sanatorium, and I’m…oh wait, sounds familiar, one ticket to a sanatorium pleas!). Maybe a boyfriend, if I learn to stop having a type (not interested in me). Maybe a sponsorship (probably something problematic. But the radio station I worked for was/is sponsored by Chik-fil-a and once in a while right-wing political ads, so the bar is v low).
But what this new website will get me is…well, let’s find out together. Hands in team. We can do this. We may not win, we may not do well, but we’ll do something. Let’s do something!
So with a revamped logo, new design, a small but mighty crew of friends, a select set of skills that Liam Neeson would say “oh crap” to if I offered them up in Taken, and a raconteur’s rambling sense of prose, we dive into the sea feet first (I never understood diving head first. Still can’t do it. My brain may be my weakest link but it’s also my strongest weapon, so feet first it is). Enjoy the current. Maybe curse and say “should’ve brought a floaty.” And come along for the ride.
Onward and upwards. 