nineteen seventy three


“I didn’t really get into [voice work] until the early nineties. I did something when I was a teenager, the animated version of ‘I Dream of Jeannie’, in the Larry Hagman role. […] That would’ve been like [nineteen] seventy-two or three, and I didn’t work again in voice-over…by the time I did it again, it was the Joker. I didn’t know about voice-over agents, specialized just in that; I got 'Jeannie’ through my theatrical agent. When I went to do my first voice-over jobs, I knew who Rob Paulsen was, I knew who Jeff Bennett was, I knew Tress MacNeille, Maurice LaMarche, Frank Welker, [etc.]. I’m a huge animation fan, I’ve been all my life, and I would tape these things on Saturday morning, I’d watch with the boys and my daughter as they were growing up. But I would freeze-frame on the end credits because I wanted to know who played all these characters! I think they were flattered that I knew who they were. I still remember seeing that episode of 'The Walt Disney Show’ where they showed Clarence Nash doing Donald Duck. It was the first time, I was maybe six or seven, where I go, 'Oh wait a minute, yeah; there are actors that go in and voice cartoons!’

Happy Birthday Mark Hamill! (September 25, 1951)


White flags in the air

Cease-fire, War’s done,

The war was now lost

All battles were won.


Fifty-eight thousand

Men killed in vain,

An ungrateful nation

Spit with disdain.


Our nation’s most brave

Placed under ground,

Taps in the graveyard

Deaths only sound.


Medals of valor

These men in their prime,

Flag draped closed coffins

Frozen in time.


Bloody stripes red

White blue divine,

Our wars share so much

Mine yours-Nam mine.


Sacred name’s known

Carved deep to the bone,

In smooth granite stone

Forever now shown.


The wall symbolizes

Entering night,

Once you come out

You then see the light.



To seventy-three,

Eight years yes plenty

To inspire me.


Ask any troop

Ask all infantry.


It’s each of you

Each of us

Do strive to be.


The picture “Reflections”

I’ve had since age nine,

You I would be one day

Your valor mine.


A war against terror

Eight years Iraq,

Support from our nation

We too did lack.


Go to the Wall

Walk into Nam’s night,

Iraq Vets will be there

To welcome you right.


We will take point

Lead you to light,

We will stand by you

With you we’ll fight.


© Copyright-Gregory J. Fino

•US Marine Corps (0311)

•PurpleHeartPoetry (Iraq 2005)

homura and kaworu talking about how long they’ve been looping. homura can’t believe kaworu has been looping since 1996, it must be very hard… kaworu solemnly nods.

ryo fumes in the corner half-drunk. he waits until it’s quiet for a few minutes before yelling “NINETEEN SEVENTY FUCKING THREE”

#29 - You're Studying Too Much

Liam: You rub your eyes and take another sip of your now stone-cold coffee, staring at the math practice sheet in front of you. Your hands are trembling with the caffeine and your mind is working faster than your body can keep up with, so you feel sluggish and stiff. The clock at the other end of your kitchen table beeps - it’s now exactly four am.

You place your pencil back onto the blank piece of paper and begin mumbling to yourself as you work through the problem, “Write out a proportion. There we go, okay. Okay, so now cross multiply. Write that there… No. Crap. Okay, try again. Breathe, (Y/N), Fourteen x minus twenty-one is equal to one-hundred and five so all we do now is…” You pause, your pencil hovering over the paper. This is easy math, you know it’s easy math, yet the figures are blurring in front of you. You know it’s probably from exhaustion, but you refuse to stop studying.

“(Y/N)? You’re still up?” You hear Liam’s sleepy voice from behind you and drop your pencil in shock.

“Yeah… just trying to finish studying.” You try to sound chirpy but the six cups of black coffee are making your voice tremble.

“Babe, you need to stop.” Liam gently pushes your papers and books aside and wraps his arms around your waist, his chin rested on your shoulder, “You’re driving yourself insane.”

“But I’ll fail…” You whine, reaching for your books. But Liam moves them further away.

“No, you’re coming to bed now, okay? You’re exhausted.” He kisses your cheek softly, “You’ve studied for nine hours straight, (Y/N). That’s enough.” You sigh as you get up from the stool and suddenly get a head rush after sitting in the same position for so long. Your legs shake as you nearly fall back, but Liam catches you and laughs, “What would you do without me?”

“I wonder.” You giggle.

Niall: "Ugh!“ You groan, pounding your head onto your textbooks, "I don’t get this!” You straighten up and reread the information on the pages, but you can’t absorb any of it. The setting sun makes the whole room glow in a pinky-orange light. You hear Niall open the bathroom door and emerge in a blue button up shirt and dress pants. 

“(Y/N), aren’t you going to get ready for the party?” Niall asks, sitting on the chair opposite you.

“Niall, I don’t think I can go.” You sigh as you scrape your hair back into a bun, “I have this exam next week and I can’t remember anything and…”

“What’s Newton’s first law?” Niall interrupts you.

“An object in motion must stay in motion unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. An object at rest must stay at rest unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. What’s the point of this?” You roll your eyes.

“Newton’s second law?” Niall continues without explanation.

“F=ma.” You answer.

“And third?” Niall is smiling slightly at this point.

“Every action has an opposite and equal reaction.” You reply.

“There. You’ve studied.” Niall grins and shuts your text book triumphantly.

“There’s a whole lot more to College Physics than just Newton’s Laws.” You reopen the text book to resume studying.

“And there’s a whole lot more to a weekend than studying Physics for eight hour stretches. Come on, (Y/N), you’ve studied all weekend.” He takes your hand as he re-closes the book, “Please, come as my plus one? You know I hate these party things if you’re not there with me.”

“Fine.” You mutter and close the book, “But we leave after two hours, max. Deal?”

“Deal.” Niall grins and kisses you softly, “Thanks, babe. You won’t regret it.”

Louis: "(Y/N), when did you wake up?“ A sleepy Louis wanders into the kitchen, hair ruffled and eyes sleepy.

"I don’t know, like five?” You shrug, not tearing your eyes away from your computer. You turn back to your notecards and scribble something down, frowning as you take another note.

“Love, have you eaten breakfast?” He asks, rummaging around the kitchen.“

"No… no time.” You point at the glass of water next to your laptop, “I’m drinking water, see?”

“Water isn’t breakfast.” You hear Louis pouring you a bowl of cereal and you sigh, beginning to mumble to yourself. Okay, maybe you’d been awake till three last night. And maybe you’d only slept restlessly for the two hours of sleep you had gotten. But you needed to study, so sleep and food were on the back burner.

“Nineteen seventy-three…” You mutter, “What happened in nineteen seventy-three?”

“You started studying.” Louis chuckles at his own joke and you shoot him a death glare, “Oh come on, babe, you’re driving yourself insane!”

You sigh and continue rummaging through your note cards, looking for the date in your messy handwriting. Louis slaps a note card onto the table in front of you with nineteen seventy-three printed on it, and the answer to your question underneath it. You try to smile at him gratefully but your smile shakes and flops back into a frown, “I’m so going to fail this test.”

“Stop studying, (Y/N).” Louis pulls the notecards from your hands on closes your computer, “You look like a panda. A very cute panda, but pretty girls shouldn’t look like pandas. Go sleep, and we’ll go out tonight.. Yeah?”

“But, Louis…” You whine, but he pulls you to your feet and kisses your forehead.

“Sleep, love. Please.” He sighs and you smile, giving in to your exhaustion and slumping off to your bedroom.

Zayn: You turn the page, not absorbing any of the information on the page and mumbling the Spanish words as you read. You can say them, sure, but you can’t understand them. And this test is both an oral and a comprehension. So, in essence, you’re screwed.

It’s just gone three in the afternoon and Zayn had a recording session. After banning you from studying all weekend, you decided to cram as much in as you could for the six hours he’d be gone. You had studied all week, but nothing was sticking.

“Las peliculas de Espana son muy…” You freeze, squinting at the next word. But it’s blurring. The letters start to mix themselves up and you rub your eyes to try and get your vision back, but it remains blurred. You feel your heart rate start to speed up. Why can’t you read the words? Why are they all blending together?

You blink several times, trying to clear your vision. But to no avail; you still can’t read the article and you’re giving yourself a headache. You know you should get up, even just for a thirty second break for a glass of water. But you can’t stop studying, or you’ll fail. You still have a whole thirty minutes before Zayn gets home.

Or, at least, you thought you did.

“(Y/N), is that a textbook I see?” You hear the door click shut and Zayn walks in. He stands behind you, “I told you not to study this weekend, babe.”

“I know, but I’ll fail the bloody test if I don’t and not graduate college!” You sigh, exasperated, “We can’t all be bloody popstars, Zayn.”

“I know,” He nods, “I know that. But, (Y/N), you’ve been taking Spanish for eight years now. Give yourself some credit. I’m sure you know more than you think you do.”

“But I don’t, Zayn! The words are all blurring and I have a headache because I’m thick and…” You trail off.

“You’re not thick, (Y/N). You’re unbelievably smart. Look at you, already halfway through college with straight A’s. You wouldn’t have made it this far if you were stupid.” He rubs your shoulder and places one hand over your trembling one, “If you’ve been studying since I left, that makes it about six hours. Do you not realise how insane that is?”

“It’s different, Zayn. I have to pass this test or-”

“Or what? You’ll fail? It’s not your final, (Y/N). It’s one test. Don’t study so hard or you’ll stop absorbing information, like you are now. Let’s go out for a movie. Just us two, okay? You need a break.”

“But Zayn,” You hesitate. Even though Spanish is mind-numbingly boring and you’d rather go watch Frozen for the fiftieth time with Zayn and huge tubs of popcorn, you’re also tempted to keep studying. But Zayn is right, maybe a break would do you good, “Fine. Just one movie.”

Harry: You stand up straight and close your eyes, rereading your monologue one more time.. You have a recitation tomorrow and you’ve always struggled with memorisation, so this is exceptionally difficult for you.

“To be, or not to be. That is the question.” You repeat out loud, “Whether tis nobler in the mind to… uh…” you sigh deeply. This isn’t working. You pick up the piece of paper and scan over it again.

“To be, or not to be. That is the question. Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the bows and arrows of misfortune…” You pause, “That’s not quite right.”

“Love, haven’t you been doing this for six hours?” Harry walks into your study room, concern all over his face.

“Well, Harry, this is difficult.” You huff, “And I have to memorise it.”

“But why? Isn’t your class on Friday?” He asks, sitting in the spinning chair at your desk and facing you, “That gives you six days, (Y/N), and plus, you look exhausted.”

“I’m fine.” You snap, but you’re really not. He’s right. Well, almost. You’ve actually been doing it for nine hours, but Harry was asleep for the first three. You know you’d rather stop now and continue practicing another day, but you’re far too stubborn. So you begin again, ignoring Harry entirely.

“To be, or not to be. That is the question. Whether tis stronger-”

“Nobler.” Harry corrects.

“Nobler in the brain-” You continue, shooting Harry a dirty look.

“Mind.” Harry corrects again.

“Nobler in the mind to endure-”

“Suffer, babe. It’s suffer.” He corrects for a third time and you sigh.

“It's you, Harry. You’re distracting me.” You glare at him accusingly.

“Well, then let me distract you some more.” He waggles his eyebrows and you laugh, even though you feel like crying, “She laughs?! Shocker!”

“Shuttup, Haz.” You laugh harder.

“There’s my beautiful, smiley girl.” He stands up and kisses you softly, “Wanna go to sleep?”

“But, Harry…” You frown, looking back down at your monologue paper.

“No buts, (Y/N). It was a rhetorical question.” He picks you up and slings you over one shoulder, making you drop your paper. And, despite everything, you don’t bother picking it back up.