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I want to see Greek gods in the modern era.

I want to see Zeus in a tailored suit and shaggy beard, a walking disparity of the loud, brash, post-graduate frat boy variety who can’t pass a woman on the street without catcalls, who has more one-night stands than he could possibly keep in his head, for whom adultery comes as naturally as the weather he predicts on the Channel 4 News—with startlingly accuracy, and an endless wealth of charisma.

I want to see Hera walking tall, six-inch heels and not a wrinkle in her skirt, knowing her boyfriend is cheating, and knowing with equal certainty that she is better, stronger, fiercer than he will ever be, a wedding planner with an eye of steel, spotting vulnerability, slicing it open, teaching every woman who crosses her path to value themselves over any mistake made in the name of men and love.

I want to see Poseidon in Olympic prime, a gym rat who skives off class to shatter backstroke records, who spends his summers lifeguarding at the city pool, who keeps an ever-expanding aquarium in his bedroom and coaxes all the pretty girls up to visit his fish, his charm as impressive as the earth-rending temper he generally uses to fuel his competitive nature.

I want to see Hades, big, hulking, quieter than his brothers would ever think to be, who dresses in neat dark clothes, and polishes his boots, and spends more time reading than fighting, who debates eventuality and ethics, who stoically reminds everyone how enormous, how terrifying, how inescapable a thing like silent inevitability can be.

I want to see Hermes in a beanie, with watercolor splashes of tattoo crawling up his arms and holes in his Chucks, a bike messenger with no helmet, no regard for the rules of the road, all cataclysmic laughter, lock-pick tricks passed along to every kid who thinks to ask, thumbing through his iPhone without a care in the world.

I want to see Athena with reading glasses pushed high on her head, six books in her bag and a switchblade in her back pocket, her clothing as neatly ordered as her mind is feverish, brilliance and temper clashing and blending, doing her best to look dignified—even when her brain chemistry rockets ahead of her well-intentioned plans.

I want to see Apollo splattered with acrylics, board shorts and Monster headphones and a beautiful classic car, busking on street corners, not because he has no choice, but because the sunlight catching on a sticker-patterned acoustic is summer incarnate, because music is blood, because the act of creation is the ultimate in sublime.

I want to see Artemis in ripped jeans and haphazard topknot, star of the soccer team, the track team, the archery team, who rides a motorcycle, and keeps a tribe of girls around her at all times, and does not care for men, for expectation, for anything but volunteer hours down at the local animal shelter and falling asleep under the stars.

I want to see Aphrodite in sundress and scarf, homemade jewelry and lavish amounts of bright red lipstick, who is excellent at public speaking, at theater auditions, at soothing bruised egos and sparking epic fights, who kisses as easily as she breathes and scrawls poetry onto bathroom stalls.

I want to see Ares all but living in the boxing ring, cutoff shirts and sweats, red-faced under a crew cut as he punches, punches, punches until the noise in his head dims, a warrior with no war, all crude jokes and blind fury, totally incapable of understanding what it is to sit, think, plan before running screaming into the fray.

I want to see Demeter with the best garden you’ve seen in your life, with a lawn care business she runs out of her garage, a teenage prodigy grown into a joint-custody single mother, who teaches her carefree daughter all she knows while scaring off the hopeful neighborhood boys with the pet python draped across her shoulders.

I want to see Dionysus with a joint in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, baggy hoodies and three-week-old jeans, who brews his own beer in his basement and greets all visitors with a fresh pack of Oreos and half-stoned theories of the universe, of birth and death and partying mid-week, because why not, man?

I want to see Hephaestus with a workshop taking up the majority of his house, whose kitchen is overrun with blowtorches, whose bathrooms are home to all manner of hodge-podge invention, who walks with a cane and forgets his laundry for weeks at a time, and strings together the most beautiful steampunk costumes at any convention at the drop of a hat.

I want to see wood nymphs fighting against climate change, waving their signs and pushing for scientific progress. I want to see epic heroes sitting down to Magic: The Gathering tournaments, poker brawls, Call of Duty all-nighters with beer and snapbacks. I want to see Medusa working a women’s shelter, want to see Achilles training for deployment, want to see Prometheus serving endless community service stints for what he calls providing necessary welfare with stolen goods.

Give me modern mythology. I could play for hours in that sandbox.


Lauren on Channel 4 News tonight. 


Do you remember the video of Jon Snow visiting Gaza last year after the horrendous attacks, well he’s back a year onward to see the progress or lack there of.

Children of Gaza: Jon Snow returns to meet victims of war 
Jon Snow returns to Gaza to find the girl with “panda eyes” whose image defined a summer of suffering. Last year 3,446 children were injured.

CHANNEL 4 announces new comedy starring Olivia Colman and Julian Barratt titled Flowers

Channel 4 today confirmed the commission of a darkly comedic new six-part series written and directed by BAFTA nominated writer and director Will Sharpe, starring Olivia Colman (Peep Show, Broadchurch, Rev) and Julian Barratt (The Mighty Boosh, Nathan Barley, A Field in England). Flowers is produced by Kudos (Utopia, Humans, Broadchurch, The Hour, Life on Mars, Spooks) and is to be made in association with NBCU’s new comedy focused subscription VOD platform.

Keep reading


Kit Harington + meeting famous people:
[To Channel 4 News broadcaster, Jon Snow]: “You won’t remember this, but this was one of the most embarrassing moments of my young life. I was working for an events company and I was dressed in this terrible, terrible hotel porter’s outfit with a top hat and I looked like a leprechaun. And then you came along and I said,“John Simpson!” And you said very kindly, “No, it’s Jon Snow.”

Channel 4 to broadcast footage of 9/11 New York attacks filmed from space

Video footage of the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks on New York filmed from space is to be broadcast in full on British TV for the first time by Channel 4 later this month.

The footage, in which a huge plume of smoke is seen stretching from the site of the devastated World Trade Centre towers, was captured from the International Space Station by astronaut Frank Culbertson. Read more

Photograph: Allan Tannenbaum


Watch this weatherman nail the pronunciation of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, a town in northwest Wales.

Chvrches’ Lauren Mayberry speaks out about misogynist trolls

Unfortunately, dealing with online trolls spewing violence and misogyny is commonplace for many women these days. Chvrches singer Lauren Mayberry has been vocal about the problem for some time, calling attention time and again to an online climate in which men feel comfortable subjecting women to the kind of abuse that would constitute an actionable offense in person. And now, the musician has granted an interview to Channel 4 News in response to a new wave of abusive comments in the wake of the band’s video for new song “Leave A Trace.”

Saying, “Ignoring it doesn’t make a difference,” Mayberry outlines a lucid and empathetic response to all the online viciousness, explaining why it was important for her to speak out about this issue:

This happens to women all the time anyway, and I hate the idea that young girls who follow our band deal with stuff like that. I don’t want them to feel isolated, I don’t want them to feel like it is just happening to them, because it happens everywhere.

We won’t cite any examples of the sorts of appalling threats Mayberry has received online, because they’re exactly as bad as you might imagine. Mayberry lists just one example, and it’s sadly on the milder end, to give you a sense of these guys and their mentality:

Somebody tweeted me the other day, ‘If you can’t learn to deal with this sort of shit, stick a gun in your mouth before the record even comes out. I have one and I’ll give it to you.’ Personally, that’s horrifying. If somebody put that through your door, you would go to the police with that.


For the past year - since the day we first were mentioned by Polygon and Kotaku - we’ve been trying to get in contact with Atlus.  We knew that fan-projects like ours walk a very fine line, and we figured that, if we were going to be taken down, it would be better to suffer it sooner rather than later. So, we tried.  We emailed.  We hunted down contacts.  We received no response.

After a certain point, we decided to simply keep moving forward.  Our name was getting bigger, and we decided that, if we were causing Atlus any problems, they would let us know. Around the time of the read-through, a loyal fan and friend shared with us a few personal contact emails for PR representatives at Atlus, and we decided to give it one more shot.  We reached out and received favorable feedback, which is why we felt comfortable announcing the performance in June. Unfortunately, the kind responses from Atlus were a stalling tactic that allowed them to put together a cease and desist without drawing our attention.  As of today, we are required to take down all materials related to P4M and Midnight Channel: The Musical and cancel all performances. I must say that I am…disappointed.  Probably not for the reason that you think.

We have been religious in our attempts to work with Atlus.  We understand - we have always understood - why they might not want us to exist, but I am disappointed with the way that they handled this.  I am disappointed with the way they ignored our efforts to reach out.  I am disappointed in the fact that they refused to talk with us during their consideration process despite our continued attempts.  I am disappointed with the extremity of their backlash. I am disappointed that they could not tell us this when we first arrived on their doorstep, begging for consideration.  I am disappointed that they waited until the very last minute to shut us down. I am disappointed that those of you who were dedicated enough to travel to GEORGIA to see this show will not have a reason to make the journey.  I am disappointed that the Atlanta theater scene, who has been so brave and so forward-thinking, will be punished for their faith.  I am disappointed that something new - because a show of this scale written by amateurs (and a high-schooler at that!  You are so, SO amazing Jake) IS new - will not get to live up to its potential.

As I say, I am disappointed.

Thank you - all of you - for everything that you have done.  Thank you for your time, your support, your loyalty.  Thank you for being the very best part of what made Persona 4 so special. Thank you for teaching me what we can be capable of.  This has been a magical experience for me, and I don’t regret a minute of it - even this minute.

I love you guys.