Wednesday, 8 August 2018

riverdale: a pop opera

Amongst the enlightened, those who have their so-called 'third eye' of astonishingly camp teen drama open, there is an awareness that the CW's hit series Riverdale is simply a long ploy by the show's chief creative officer Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa to familiarise the populous at large with the concept of a gay Archie Andrews.
       Allow me to elaborate.

Riverdale is not Roberto's first encounter with Archie comics: in 2003 his play was set to debut in Atlanta. Titled Archie's Weird Fantasy - a play on the recently airing TV series Archie's Weird Mysteries - this was to examine the life of Archie Andrews following his coming out and moving to New York. The suggestion of an American icon embodying anything other than blatant heterosexuality didn't sit well with Archie comics; parody laws were not on the side of Sacasca and co, thus, by way of a cease and desist letter, the play was shut down. This was not the end for Roberto's Riverdale adventures, as Archie's Weird Fantasy traversed other iterations, before eventually gaining the official, slightly-more copyright-friendly title of The Golden Age. No characters bore explicit likenesses to certain Riverdale residents, yet its safe to say, given reviews at the time, that 'Buddy Baxter' is a rather unusable expy of one Archie Andrews. [Jughead's Golden Age counterpart is 'Tapeworm Smith', this, whilst not super relevant to the issue at hand, is impossible to overlook. CW overlords, I for one keenly implore you to look at integrating this name in some fashion- perhaps as Jughead's 'dark Betty' counterpart? Please ensure to discuss this at your next meeting, and commit to some swift season 3 rewrites.]

The play certainly existed in the realm of parody: there is an undeniably subversive nature any deviation from the endlessly adolescent, anachronistic world of Archie et al, especially when such changes seemingly 'corrupt' the timeless nightmare-heterosexuality of perhaps the most iconic love triangle in existence.

Whilst, alas, information on the play's exact contents remains ambiguous, there are certain details we do know. Interestingly enough, a return to Riverdale's equivalent ('Rockville') was repeatedly presented by the play as a metaphor for returning to the closet, embodying the all-American ideal that a pop cultural icon 'should'. The same Riverdale for which Sacasa's secondary foray into Archie comics was named. New York, presents an alternative: a place of forward-motion, progressing, rather than stagnating in the 50s as his hometown does. Now, there is a limit on what I can say of Archie's Weird Fantasy given that its only performance occurred when I was otherwise busy being 3 years old, but its mere existence is worth reflecting on, as we see the routes Riverdale is taking with its much-beloved characters.

Riverdale, in much the same vein as Weird Fantasy, seeks to subvert expectations, defiling the purity of the down, and cutting down to the corruption lying underneath its polished facade. There is ongoing concious effort to cut beneath the facade of all-American wholesomeness, often firing in any and all directions to do so. It's 'darker and edgier' intentions clear from the outset, with the first series structured around the disappearance of a teenager, verging firmly into Twin Peaks-esque territories (even if by way Gossip Girl).

The cultural landscape has evolved since 2003, and the thought of presenting characters of varying sexualities, even those originating from children's media, is no longer unthinkable. It's worth noting that outside of our core trio, the classic ABV dynamic, there are no prominent straight couplings. Secondary to 'Varchie' and 'Bughead' we have Toni and Cheryl, and Moose and Kevin (Kevin's mere existence as an explicitly gay character in the comics themselves signifying a key change in the ethos of the company). Cheryl Blossom is not suggested to be anything other than heterosexual in the original comics, yet has been explicitly labelled as a lesbian by actress and showrunners alike: the sexualities of Archie comics characters are not so set in stone as they once were. Of course, Riverdale is a creation associated with Archie comics, a company tragically not titled Cheryl, (though, what a world that would be) she is not it's figurehead, static in a moving culture.

 Yet, here we are some 14 years later, with the very same man who offended the sensibilities (and potentially trod on some toes regarding fair use, in all fairness) of Archie comics, at the helm of the series responsible for redefining the character's existence in the general consciousness. They're cool now. They wear short black wigs and murder one another!

What this is all leading to, the singular possible conclusion, is that with season 3 approaching, it's high time to consolidate Sacasa's two ventures into Archie and pals into one, by allowing Archie a plotline in which he explores his sexuality. With references to Weird Mysteries arguably existing within the show's canon, how far off is it to suggest that similar ground can be covered by the show itself? For god's sake, the wrestling episode was directed by Greg Araki of all people.

For any CW higher-ups that happen upon this, I have composed some suggestions for how to incorporate the aforementioned hijinks into your masterpiece of a show:
  1. Following the masterpiece which was Riverdale's Carrie, it only makes sense to continue in the grand tradition of early 2000s rock operas dealing with coming of age and alienation. Thus I present to you: Riverdale High does bare: a pop opera. Given the town's blatant roots in scientology, some alterations would need to be made to the heavily Catholic overtones of the original musical; the fact remains that its simply too easy to milk the conflicted closeted-jock angst for all its worth in the casting of Archie as Jason (no, not that one). Beyond this, there is ample opportunity for reintroduction of the jingle-jangle plotline as Riverdale swiftly tackles both gay rights and teenage drug use in just 30 minutes, near-reinventing the medium of television. 
  2. An episode following Archie as his involvement in Hiram's devious plans prompt an impromptu trip to New York to confer with 'Papa Poutine(!)'s' men, allowing Archie to continue occupying his role as a minor Sopranos character. A minor Sopranos character going through a character arc that miraculously resembles his in Archie's Weird Fantasy. I think this melding of concepts is guaranteed to work. 
  3. Please subscribe [hire me] to access more exclusive content in which I write Riverdale's greatest episodes.
If any readers are interested in further reading on the oddly undiscussed origins of Riverdale, I recommend the articles linked below as Archie's Weird Fantasy is a truly intriguing an off little play; one that seems tragically overlooked and otherwise lost to time, simply with regard to its concept and its relevance to fan works, and the appropriation of characters, on the whole.

For the purposes of complete disclosure further appreciation must go to Tumblr user theocseason4, whose earnest musings on Riverdale, and teen dramas on the whole, have been hugely validating in allowing myself to overthink dumb CW shows. Follow ya dreams kids. Even if not now, one day all shall know the truth of all that Riverdale could be.

- Flora

Monday, 14 May 2018

formative teen flicks: ranked

 As a wave of deep-seated unease washes over me I wonder in what aspect of my life it is that I lack. Then it hit: this, this is the grand contribution that I am required to make; the people must know.
Please be aware that universal criticism of any film I watched between the ages of 5-14 is fundamentally impossible, so even films at the bottom of this list have made an impact (for better or for worse).

Chalet Girl

To say I 'like' this film would be a blatant falsehood. To say that I gain even the slightest pleasure from this film's existence is pushing it. Yet here we are, and here I am, having watched chalet girl upwards of five times. Isn't life a funny thing?

Ten Things I Hate About You

EDIT 2019: I take it all back, this is the pinnacle and invention of romance. I was horrifically misguided prior to this realisation.

Donnie Darko

 Is this a teen film? The angst radar suggests a strong yes. this was vital to my growth in many ways- Jake Gyllenhall, gothhood, edgy quotes aplenty to superimpose upon American Horror Story screencaps, an affection for plots that upon any consideration make no sense but you just have to go with, Jake Gyllenhall, 80s synth pop.


Listen. Listen, without going through a phase in which you earnestly wished to become a mermaid, and earnestly positioned this as your plans for the distant future, how you could achieve any level of personal development is beyond me. The starfish earrings whisper into her ears!! Whimsy!! Whimsy for which I will be generous enough to overlook the presence of Emma Roberts.

Wild Child

Once more with Emma Roberts- surely a qualifying factor in the worthiness of any teenager drama of this particular era. I'm not fully confident in what this film actually is, and which bits of my perception are spliced with memories of St. Trinians, but am fairly certain in my preference for this. There is certainly a charity shop montage with awful clothes and worse music- representation is so important!


Someone has got to say it, heavy be the head that bears the... Twilight apologism? Sans the superiority complex held by a ten year old this franchise only improves upon rewatch. Of course, its impossible to discount the inherent unhealthiness of nearly every single relationship presented; but we were given so much- sparkly vampires, 'erotic' (??) chess playing, demon children, werewolves who had everything figured out, we were given so much and yet we were ungrateful. Hell, the concept of vampires having to play baseball under cover of thunderstorms due to the sound caused by their intense strength? Incredible.

Legally Blonde

 Now this far surpasses the labeling of 'teen movie' at all, instead serving as a seminal piece of feminist filmaking. In times of utter laziness Elle Woods comes to me and is far more inspiring than any stem lecturer could dream of being. This, alongside the social network, forms the canon of havard-set coming of age tales and constitute the only two things I need in my life to be fulfilled.
Legally Blonde's downfall comes in the blandest package imaginable: a love interest who i truly cannot see doing anything for Elle. Musical!Emmet? Sure, I can vaguely get behind that and may even go so far as to describe Elle and Emmet as... cute. But as this movie stands? How does she not she end up with Vivian? You Cowards.


Picture watching this weekly for two months. Picture falling in love with a two hour stretch of 80s black comedy featuring Winona Ryder and Christian Slater at their finest, imagine all of this and then the crushing disappointment to be found when looking for amongst the director's other filmography. Truly heartbreaking. Heathers itself however is essentially the pinnacle of all that is right- a script that's quotable to a nightmarish extent, beautifully shot, romantic in an awful way, and makes appropriately copious use of shoulder pads.

Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging

 Picture: me pinching the bridge of my nose and sighing to myself 'poetic cinema' as I wax lyrical about how nothing has obtained, or will surpass, this films success in accurately depicting southern English teenhood. The opening sequence? Instantly iconic. Reinvented cinema.
If you are able to hear the opening chords of 'she's so lovely' without a sudden preoccupation with paper-mache canapes you are missing a trick. The dialogue here shaped me intrinsically as a human being. The delivery alone of "I fought yu waz dif'rent Georgia"? Pulitzer worthy.

Saturday, 6 January 2018

best of 2017

well, some of them

The process of catching up on the pop-cultural events of the year prior is still undergoing, so my opinions in this are by no means definitive, and are guaranteed to change five minutes from publication. Also, I have the foresight to predict this shall be slightly end-heavy, as media released later in the year is obviously going to be more recently filed away in my brain- be aware of that skew, take this with a pinch of salt.


I was meant to be viewing this in a certifiably trendy seafront cinema on a day soon after this film's release with one of my favourite people in this world. Unfortunately- due to privatised rail companies' villainy, and the general awfulness of poorly scheduled busses- this event did not occur.  So it was not until the very end of December, months later, having painfully been exposed to the hype that only continued to build (alongside the controversy, which clearly only piqued my interest), I was able to finally see what it was all about. From the get-go, the film was getting some form respect from me due to my blatant bias towards worshipping the ground that Sufjan Stevens walks on; I had already heard his stunning musical contributions to the soundtrack, and was eager to see how they would play into the central romance. After a couple of highly emotional hours, the outcome could not have been greater. Its the kind of film that makes one appreciate the pure beauty of perfectly conveyed sensory experience, with the beauty of the heavy Italian summer draped over the gorgeous setting of earthy fabrics of the villa, serene pools, and ripe fruit, being as present in the story as the relationship between the two men. A careful exploration of first love, leading to the slowest of burns; a careful dance between our protagonists, each unsure what to make of the other, leading to an end that is inevitable from the offset, yet still holds incredible poignancy.

Is their any need whatsoever for this film to be further hyped? No.
Am I going to do so anyway? Well, evidently.
My main piece criteria in assessing most things in life can be boiled down to: well, yeah, but is it fun? In this case, Edgar Wright hits that most vital piece of criteria I am willing to forgive this movie of any and all other sins it may have. In my heart of hearts all I desire is a 'killer [sound]track' (ay), and some incredibly choreographed gun fights and car chases and I, as a human being, am truly complete and content.


2017 was a pretty zaggy year, as predicted by the brother's genii. Perhaps the biggest shocker of all was a Miss Charli XCX releasing a mixtape that succeeded in its goal (at least through my own musically uneducated eyes). Pop 2 truly is an ode to PC music, running the risk of coming across as exploitative of a musical niche, but through cleverly chosen features, and a geniune love for the genre that comes through in every track, this is not the case. Standout tracks for me include 'I Got It'- with such a list of collaborators as Brooke Candy, cupcakKe and Pabllo Vittar something magical is bound to happen, and I'm so impressed with how each artist was able to shine in their respective style, whilst still building towards a coherent song that ultimately slaps, linked by a chanting chorus by Charli herself, and an increasingly industrial, frantic instrumental. Against these angry cuts lie some true pop gems, only made more special by their burial within odd tracks- the bridge of 'Delicious' leading to me catching my breath, only to hack up a lung on a crowded train. Now isn't that the experience artists should aim to provide with their projects?

If you have spent five minutes online in any musically-inclined spheres it's doubtful the name Brockhampton isn't already engraved onto your conscious, whether you've listened to them or not. Within the past year the group have grown from relative obscurity, sneaking to record their music videos in the halls of supermarkets, to redefining the word 'boyband' for a generation of young adults. Upon listening to any of their projects, I feel so incredibly blessed to be existing at the same time as such musical innovation: this is that kind of group. The knowledge that a group of self-made Kanye stans, through sheer will, hard work and raw talent, have carved out a unique sound that even within such a short time scale is only improving, is incredibly inspiring. Everytime slacking seems attractive, I reccomend questioning WWKAD (what would Kevin Abstract do, clearly)- for clarification the answer is to make oneself an icon and find some pals to create world altering music with. Every single member brings a different angle to the group, allowing for the constant evolution of their songs, even to their last album of the Saturation trilogy throwing a curveball in the form of BOOGIE.
I implore you, love yourself, and discover three albums of wall-to-wall excellent music.


It's impossible to overstate the joy that this collaborative effort brings me on days where I have truly had it. Featuring articles by a central collective of five writers, whose topics are unlikely to be covered anywhere else, the tonal stylings of each contributor are hugely inspiring to me, as a writer still nervous to write 'weirdly'- its an impossibility for me to structure my sentences like a real English-speaking human being. This site inspires me to be inspired. Listicles- straddling the boundary of the jeeringly ironic, yet with a rarely-seen core of sincerity of appreciation and nostalgia for cultural knick-knacks.


Monday, 1 January 2018

'resolutions' seem grotesque but hey look here we are

twenty eighteen, 2018, toofosandnateeen
it's here folks.

this is the year
- I will consume more content: the more widely-read and watched one becomes, the more well-rounded they will grow as a person, as a lil bit of every piece of media will rub and flake off upon your person. There is a tendency within me to only have contact with any given piece of content for approximately five minutes, before my attention span of a bratty five year old rears its head, and I instead turn to other's opinions on said content. That is not conductive to creativity nor independance of thought, so its probably best to fix that now.
(this presents the slightest of oppertunities for me to point y'alls in the direction of my letterbox'd account, which is looking to be the site of my most manic ramblings:

- I will forgive myself: of course I have the goal of being the fittest, most congenial, most measured gal on the planet, as those aspirations-although loftily bland- are seemingly universal amongst the demographic to which I happen to belong. But beyond this, I want to, more ambitiously, want to be ok when I don't consistently achieve these things. Even when eating bread torn from its loaf, dressed in a stained cat onzie, with water only being consumed via the medium of black coffee: even then I will remain a perfectly valid excuse for a human being, and the world will keep rolling. Accepting these inevitabilities is a must.

- Learn to drive, for mum.

- CREATE. For God's sake. I need to learn to balance my academic life with literally anything else. Unfortunately my broad attitude towards most things in this life is one of all or nothing, 0 to 100, i.e. if I don't make my chemistry notes for today's lesson I will literally die. It therefore follows that once those goals have been missed for even one day I lack the motivation to even continue to try, throwing my into a vicious cycle that is a struggle to get out of. As important as I know college to be, my independant thoughts and growth also hold value, and I know for a fact that experimental stagnancy, in the long term, will do me far more harm than a B ever would.

- Read the news again, 2017 was certainly a year I spent with my head down, sand in my ears (arguably, in my defense, as a single method to keep going through a year where all efforts on a wider scale seemed futile.) But this year its time to be plugged back in- surely reluctance to engage or accept responsibility for our current situations is what got us here in the first place.

this will be the year we all do it.
-whatever your 'it' may be-
good luck xo

Wednesday, 27 December 2017

it's been a minute

The beautiful thing about an indefinite hiatus is surely its indefinite status.

For over two years, consciously or not, writing purely for my own enjoyment has been on the back burner, as life has jostled other shenanigans to the forefront- I have viewed the 'blogging me' with a sense of far-off amusement and vague judgement.
Since abandoning this hole into which I occasionally yelled, many things have changed, nearly entirely for the better.
At the very least I can wear a badge of honour that I'm less willing to display open snobbery and a superiority complex as I did age 12- rereading certain posts has been a ride. 
Yet despite all of this self-induced bullying, there is a certain sense of pride in having a concrete chronological record of my growth as a human being, even if that record is through some distorted, put-on lens.

To entirely put aside and ignore that waffle, making its existence entirely superfluous, let us move on. To rant and rave about albums that have touched me personally, that are not Little Mix's DNA; to advertise the awful clothes I wear now- too much orange and brown- than then- too much general astounding awfulness. 

More than ever, I am incited to write like a maniac, as I truly believe it may be my calling in life (even if for a few years I has been forced to specialise in bad Romantic literature), even if its awful. If I have some words to vomit up (loads) I'd rather look back on those mistakes as something solid, at least vaguely productive, rather than being forever lost to the vacuums of iPhone notes and late night snapchat rants. So here it goes again.

U w me???


Tuesday, 20 October 2015


Choosing to do this has been weighing on my mind a fair bit these past few months: my life has gotten so cluttered with other obligations that I feel any content recently uploaded to my blog is not at all what I wish it was. Currently I'm not certain I can be the blogger to suit Pretty Little Things; since starting it back in 2011 (which was a dark time for writing/ skill in general that we shall not speak of) I am very much changed as a person.
 That's not to say I'm abandoning this corner where I can spew my thoughts, and for some reason a few choose to listen. This blog is too important to me, and feels a vital component of who I am- I've put in so much work over the past few years, to take off would be a shame.

Instead, to counterbalance the guilt recently weighing on my conscious, about how I should be writing a post, I'm going to officially take a breather from blogging. I highly doubt it will last an insane amount of time, just however long it takes to churn a couple of other projects out and perhaps catch up to obligatory life. With my erratic schedule, it shall be hard to notice a difference, in all honesty. The last thing I want to do is have this become a chore. I adore writing, and the small community this has built for me means the world. Because of this, I would much rather have the time to show the content that's more genuine; more 'me'.

If you want to find me other places online during this interlude I will still be thoroughly working and ignoring my homework of various social media platforms:
(also here's my myanimelist for those interested. nerds.)
Other secret content can (probably) be unlocked by searching autolysissy on various platforms. Happy stalking I guess

Will certainly speak again in PLT_2.0
Flo xo

Monday, 31 August 2015

REVIEW:: i'll give you the sun - jandy nelson

As promised in my last post, this incredible book has gotten a review post of it's own. Books are something that I tend to be very black or white with, not necessarily with considerations of aspects and issues addressed, but in whether I plough on through them, or they lie half-finished for months. This belongs to the former category- thanks to train journeys this novel got finished in a day: both a blessing and a curse. Sadly all good things must come to an end.

 GOODREADS SUMMARY: Jude and her twin brother, Noah, are incredibly close. At thirteen, isolated Noah draws constantly and is falling in love with the charismatic boy next door, while daredevil Jude cliff-dives and wears red-red lipstick and does the talking for both of them. But three years later, Jude and Noah are barely speaking. Something has happened to wreck the twins in different and dramatic ways . . . until Jude meets a cocky, broken, beautiful boy, as well as someone else—an even more unpredictable new force in her life. The early years are Noah's story to tell. The later years are Jude's. What the twins don't realize is that they each have only half the story, and if they could just find their way back to one another, they’d have a chance to remake their world.

I must confess to being skeptical prior to starting this book, despite being drawn to it with beautiful sounding quotes, it was possible that it would be nothing more than a shallow, vapid book (not that there's anything wrong with that occasionally) putting on a fake deep facade. Thankfully, this was not the case at all. The formatting of this book is essentially two stories in one, interwoven together, each dropping hints to the other. Every other chapter you are presented with a different twins point of view, at a different stage in their life, Noah at 13/14 and Jude at 16. Like so many that read this book, it appears, Noah's POV was much more engaging for me- not because I wasn't a fan of Jude: in fact she was one of the more relatable and three dimensional female characters I've read. However her section was dampened by the only character in the book who appeared to fall victim to being a checklist of tropes. The love interest is the most stereotypical bad boy one can fathom. In no way am I denying that she wouldn't fall for him, more questioning the fact that anyone like him can exist. Perhaps the liberties taken with reality, pushing Jude's section into the supernatural, extended to the guys. Though, I must again say, Jude's character development, and the contrast between her inner functions and how she presented herself, as a form of preservation, was splendidly done.

One feature in this book which succeeded in breaking my fragile heart was Noah's change/ persona he managed to construct for himself during the timeskip. Noah is (/was?) a genuinely lovely character; the author ensured the reader formed a connection with him by the time his apparent personality changed = READER HEARTACHE ENSUES!!!

I've read criticism of this book which basically complains about how overtly purple the writing style is; that fact is pretty hard to deny, but the story being told is the right one for that prose. At no point did it feel like serious things were being brushed over in favour of it sounding poetic- gritty moments were gritty, upsetting things were dealt with in a realistic way. When aiming to capture raw human emotions during the worst of times, some poeticism is realistic. Naysayers may complain but, like it or not, it's fair to say people on the whole are melodramatic when facing horrors. After that, possibly unnecessary and whingey, divergence, back to my point: read this book if you love to suffer. But also read this book if you love satisfying conclusions.

Read this book if you like to read; if you don't. I implore you. (Don't think I'm overselling it, right?)

If anymore motivation is required- read this book before the inevitable subpar film adaption. Warner Brothers already have the rights. Get scared.


'till next time
flo xo

Sunday, 16 August 2015

summer favourites

Do not be fooled by the title- I am by no means planning a series (this is more down to superstition than anything else, has any scheduled posting structure worked well on this blog?). In this I want to have the opportunity to speak about things I like, and perhaps force them onto you, dear reader, so we can discuss them excessively. As there is nothing I adore more than over analyzing everything and talking about them excitedly. These aren't necessarily new 'things' to have come out, more things that I have recently discovered- or even rediscovered- and am currently very into.

Generally, I'm not much of a film person. Despite my ability to watch many 20 minute episodes back to back, sitting down and watching a film feels too much of a commitment. On one hand, it's too long, and the single main plot spans a whole two hours, whilst on the other, you don't have long enough to form the connections you make to characters from TV shows. However, there is one exception- children's films! If media is largely provided for escapism, things primarily targeted toward younger viewers is awesome. So- in all, yes- I shall be added onto the list raving about Inside Out. Obviously, I must admit it hardly eclipses Big Hero 6 in terms of my affection, but the latter is one of my favourite films in existence. Ever. Inside out has a central character who is likable (rejoice!) : despite not being alike, her motivations and feelings all seemed understandable, it was easy to empathise.

I'll give you the sun- hooo boy this book. To supply some context, I first heard about this book on tumblr; there was a quote credited to the book :
“I love you,” I say to him, only it comes out, “Hey.”
“So damn much,” he says back, only it comes out, “Dude.”
He still won’t meet my eyes.” 
This alone made me realise I needed to find this novel. If someone can write angst that well, it's guaranteed I'm going to love it. With the book itself- I don't want to go into too much detail, as it deserves a review of it's own at a later date. What I will say though, is I do not understand some people's problem with how 'purple' the writing style was. I drank it up. Honestly, this is the book I would want to write, though perhaps more about Noah. Jude herself was a interesting character, but her love interest was a checklist of bad boy tropes, which was out of place in a book about characters that felt so real.
Aside from that, I finally got around to reading some Stephen King, which I adored. Again, a writing style I wish I could emulate... Thinner was the book I started with, and it had me well and truly hooked. At some points, I was slightly concerned with the villainisation of gypsies, however by the conclusion a more grey morality had been formed, which felt more fair.

Anime hell!!!!!
My cousin has succeeded in dragging me down with her, and has gotten me hooked on a few series. Nothing more than Tokyo Ghoul (and :root A, which isn't to the same standard, but still made me sob so I'm not too mad) . As already stated in this post, there is nothing I love more than angst and tragedy happening to good people, and the aftermath it causes (in fiction of course...) Kaneki, whose presence in the fandom is basically followed with 'did nothing wrong' is one of those people. In an alternate universe- where humans are not just the hunters, but the hunted, by a stronger species known as ghouls who appear as human, but need to eat them to survive- Kaneki is a bookworm college student, who live vicariously through fictional universes. Through deeply unlucky circumstances he becomes part ghoul and gets dragged into their often violent world. (There is nothing I despise more than summarising stuff, so I apoligise if that was astoundingly awful and incoherent. Check Wikipedia or something). This series is rather intense. By that I mean, the highlight of the initial series was the final episode which basically consists of a torture scene where centipedes get put into ears. Not pleasant, but incredibly captivating and well done. There are many, many characters I have succeeded in getting overly attached to, primarily Juuzou, Shinohara, and (despite his limited screen time) Hide. Basically: horrible things happening to good people, and a lot of emotion and gore. :) I've also started the manga, which is visually incredible, and has subtly better characterisation. ((promo for my MyAnimeList, if you want to see what else I've been watching!)

I've known about The Front Bottoms for a good couple of years now, but have never listened to one of their albums back to back. I wish I had sooner. I'm a sucker for wonderful lyrics, and they supply generously. Musically, they're rather laid back, but with yearning, sometimes unhappy lyrics. More folky than what I usually go for, but it's pulled off so well it's no issue. It would be too easy to write them off as another generic pop punk band (which I find mind numbingly dull); that they are not. They have nailed a sound specific to them and it's addictive.
Today's song of the post is anything by them. I implore you to at least give them a try (my personal favourite is father).

Should be back sooner than usual...
Flo xo

Wednesday, 15 July 2015

a sense of self

original images from tumblr.

NOTE: this is what happens when I start writing at 2am and keep goin and see where it takes me. Have fun translating this into a legible language of any kind.

I have an obsession with personality quizzes.

Somehow I feel that by finding out which 80s teen film I am will help me get closer to discovering my true self. Therefore things such as MBTI tests, and Jung's theory are a type of utopia for me- indulging my basic narcissism with an actual undertone of scientific proof? Well, personally there's no objections from me there. Once I start reading articles about my supposed personality type, I've largely entered a labyrinth from which there is no escaping for the foreseeable future, seriously: last year I spent a solid four months hooked on the personality cafe forums. In a way there is something therapeutic about feeling part of a group with your less-desirable quirks. For the record I'm an INFJ (aka the 'special snowflake' one, because of course).

Then you have the recent renewal in interest with astrology- even if only in the ironic tumblr sense, where you can find which signs belong to the no sleep squad etc. Ok, guys, before you run away into the vortex of literally any other part of the internet, let me clarify. I do not give horoscopes any weight in the real world- I'm perfectly aware that they simply apply to the lowest common denominator, that are applicable to pretty much any individual. Honestly though, does that change the fact that it's awesome to hear vaguely relatable statements about yourself? For me it sure as hell doesn't. Perhaps I am as self-centred as I joke I am, yet that in itself is quite a basic human emotion. 


Flo xo