the bright young people

The Dragon Angus Theory

I don’t know how many people know about this particular TAZ Theory but I discovered it last night in the TAZ Subreddit. There are thread discussions about this here and here. There could be more but these were the two I found.

In summary, the theory in general pertains to the fact that Angus might not be all that he seems, and that he might be a dragon in disguise. Specifically a Silver Dragon. Under the cut because this came out really long! (Don’t worry there’s a tldr at the bottom)

Keep reading

Les Misérables (1862) but if Lemony Snicket was the author

to Enjolras–darling, dearest, dead.

Chapter One

If you’re seeking a story whose tragic beginning is followed by a less-tragic middle and an inevitably uplifting denouement, this book should be avoided at all costs. The approximately six hundred and fifty-five thousand words that are about to follow contain the tales of several bright and brave young people who each meet an unfortunate end and several less-bright, less-young people, including myself, who unfortunately survive to recount the events. “Unfortunate” is a word which here means “luckless” and “miserable”, the latter definition having been used for the title of this novel, designed to dissuade you, the misguided reader, from continuing past the cover page.

There are other techniques I have employed in this book that are designed to stop you from yourself becoming miserable by reading this story in its entirety. Firstly, the physical novel, which as you may notice shares the same dimensions and weight as a standard housing brick, for the utmost inconvenience. Secondly, I have included several hundred pages of information which are both uninteresting and have little bearing on the grander story in the meager hope that you will come to your senses and place this novel back on your shelf or better, in a lit fireplace, where I solemnly believe it belongs. 

For example, the use of candlesticks. The word “candlestick” is derived from the purpose of the item itself, that is an object, most often metal, commonly silver, in which one can stick a candle. Many dictionaries define “candlestick” as  “an often ornamental holder for securing a candle or candles”. “Candleholder” is another, less commonly used word for “candlestick”. Candlesticks come in a variety of forms and sizes, and can contain a variety of numbers of candles often demarcated by their names-a “trikirion” contains three candles and a “menorah” contains seven. If you have had the fortitude-a word which here means “strength of mind”-to make it this far through this dull paragraph, it may be of some note to say that the candlesticks with which we concern ourselves in this story are single candlesticks, that may each contain one candle. 

Thirdly, not only have I named the main character in a redundant manner-Jean Valjean-I have decided to tell you here that Jean Valjean perishes on the final page of this novel. That is my story’s conclusion.

With all this information in mind, and having the ending already known, I now give you my final warning and pleading suggestion to forget about this book. Put it down. Hide it away. Bury it in a cemetery late at night with the assistance of a man named Fauchelevant. Forget it ever existed. For now the story must begin.

It begins in a town called Digne, on a grey and dreary night under the roof of a very kind but elderly and poor man, the bishop of the town, whose name was Myriel.

The Bright Young People

The Bright Young People were consisted by young aristocrats and socialites of the 1920’s in London. They were the first that refused to adopt the lifestyle of their parents and their contemporaries.  So all they did was partying dressed in extravagant outfits. They didn’t want people to take them seriously and they certainly didn’t. People considered their lifestyle decadent. Although homosexuality was illegal in the 1920s, gay and lesbian affairs were very common among them. So, organizing theme parties was a good excuse for men to put make up and dress up. Men used to dress like women and women as men. Having such an excessive lifestyle, they became a brand. Newspapers loved them and included them very often in their pages. People were amused by them. They were the celebrities of their time.

Outstanding figure of the Bright Young People was Stephen Tennant. He was a young aristocrat and the “the most androgynous man of his generation”. He was seen as an “artificial creation”. Nowadays people think of him as “the Bowie of his age”. He is also known  for spending most of his life in bed.

In 2003 The Bright Young Things came out, a movie dedicated to them. -I don’t have an opinion as I haven’t watched it yet.

All this interesting information came to my attention through BBC’s documentary series Glamour’s Golden Age. Click on the first image to watch the episode. 

This took the form of a very expensive looking oblong parcel which in its glossy splendour made one suppose that it must contain something of the highest value. When my aunt opened it she found two pieces of bark from a tree which where, according to Tennant, of the most exquisite and subtle beauty. Virginia didn’t agree and was rather cross.
—  Quentin Bell, on a hostess gift from Stephen Tennant to Virginia Woolf

The Bright Young Things, 1920s

“What about the attention to… well, young people always pay attention to their appearance but it seemed to be, not excessive but they had a lot fun with it didn’t they?”

“Oh absolutely and there’s certainly a sense that girls were dressing as boys, boys were dressing as girls. There was a massive influence of Hollywood, so everyone slicks their hair down like Rudolph Valentino.”

- Reel History of Britain

palmtop-mn-co  asked:

Simce you answered a question about getting into the animation industry, do you have any advice who wants to do art but not be destuted while doing it? Basically a 'Do Art and Not Die: Guide of Passion and Paying Bills.'

hahaha, interesting question. the art industry varies a lot in what sort of money you can expect to make, but since i only have experience in animation, a little in gaming, and a little bit in print i’ll speak to those.

so the first thing you should know is that a full time job in an animation studio is a steady and comfortable place to be. most major studios are in the union (the animation guild) and have to adhere to certain wage standards. you can view them here (you can get more info or find this page again by googling “animation guild wage survey”). most positions are hourly, meaning you get paid for overtime, while higher up positions are salaried and you don’t always get compensation for overtime. 

even if you work for a studio not in the union (most of the major ones are), you can use the wage survey as leverage when negotiating wages.

if you don’t want to work at a studio and would rather do freelance, that’s gonna be a hard road to travel. freelance for animation is weird and challenging and you usually get underpaid (look at the wage survey for the minimum price for a background design. $100 per piece??? ridiculous). most people in the industry supplement their full time position with freelance, i don’t think it’s possible to survive on just freelance haha.

so bottom line in animation: a full time position is comfy and good. you prob can’t survive on just freelance.

in gaming idk, i’ve worked at a studio and i’ve done freelance. i was an intern at the studio and made pennies. they don’t have a union afaik so i couldn’t really do much. freelance, i just charge the rate at what i make at my full time job. because there are so many indie developers out there, they’re more willing to work with you. that’s been my experience. i have heard that people who have really cushy full time positions at big gaming studios make hella bank tho, but freelance in gaming isn’t so bad.

i’ve only worked on one print project that unfortunately got cancelled, but in print you generally charge by piece, not hourly like in animation and gaming. if you can sleuth out a lot of jobs, that sort of money really adds up fast considering how quick it can be to turn out one illustration. if you really have a freelancer’s heart, i’d consider pursuing print rather than animation or gaming. i don’t really know how to get into print though hahaha.

prob the most lucrative way tho is to cash in on royalties. like if you publish a book or put out designs or patterns, things that can be sold or used over and over again. i know even less about this field but i know there’s $$$$ in it.

i guess overall, know that full time positions are pretty lucrative, and freelance can pay big but it’s not guaranteed work. if you land a union job, they can help with any sort of wage disputes, even with freelance, which is nice. when you’re on your own, it’s so important to be firm with your rates. don’t let people walk all over you, don’t fall for the exposure myth, if they want to pay you less then ask for some other form of compensation in addition to the lower rate. if a job doesn’t pay well, don’t take it, even if you think you need the money. you have a reputation in the industry, and if you get the reputation of someone who will work for cheap, that will stick with you. and it lowers the market value for other artists, which is a huge problem in the industry. it’s hard to get higher wages because there are so many bright eyed young people who will work for close to nothing to get their foot in the door. don’t be that person. art is just like any other professional industry, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

i hope this was helpful, i am not sure i have enough experience yet to really say a ton about the long term money game in art (●´ω`●)ゞ so this is just from my personal experience

anonymous asked:

Do u think the justice league put bets on Batman's identity?

not the big seven obviously because even on non-secured intercoms they call each other by their first names, but like… the smaller heroes? the newer groups? absolutely. it’s the first thing they try to find out after initiation, it’s become like… a sorority thing. every time a bunch of new heroes get into the justice league, there’s this thing hal someone coordinates. “try to shadow him and follow his every move until you find out where he lives. that’s what makes you an actual, real justice leaguer”. and it sounds so much like bait material, these are capable, young, bright, absolutely not foolhardy people who made it into the big leagues because they can get the job done, but then you think about how the flash or wonder woman had to do it too or something and it gives you a sense of honor. so you do it. and hal laughs

and the best part is i imagine bruce letting them tag along during his gotham patrol, pretending he didn’t detect them five milliseconds after they got on his tail, and just blatantly leading them to some forested grounds outside the city at dawn or something and reaching a tree, right? just getting near a tree and not moving for the rest of the day. he’s just standing there for at least seven hours because you know he can do it and nobody has moved because they might make noise, so you see all those heroes with their bright costumes hiding behind a bush and going “holy crap he’s sleeping standing on his feet hwat the fuCK bob???”

The thing I hate the most about advertising is that it attracts all the bright, creative and ambitious young people, leaving us mainly with the slow and self-obsessed to become our artists.. Modern art is a disaster area. Never in the field of human history has so much been used by so many to say so little.
—  Banksy

The Impersonation Party, 1927.
Back row: Elizabeth Ponsonby, in wig as Iris Tree, Cecil Beaton on her right.
Seated: Stephan Tennant, as Queen Marie of Rumania, Georgia Sitwell, with false nose, Inez Holden, Harold Acton.
Foreground: Tallulah Bankhead, as Jean Borotra.

Photo & caption featured in Bright Young People: The RISE and FALL of a GENERATION 1918-1940 by D.J. Taylor

Part 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

@shulkie suggested pining Levi so here we go.


Levi watched as Jean draped his arm around Eren’s shoulders and said something into his ear with a wide grin. Eren laughed and poked his tongue out, and Jean pulled a face and pretended to recoil.

But they stayed close, those two.

Levi sort of thought they would have mentioned it if they were actually together, but with the way they acted sometimes he honestly wasn’t sure. It wasn’t really his business, he supposed, only that it was; Eren had told him flat out that he was good at shutting down their arguments, and doing that for a couple seemed weird and inappropriate.

Levi was ushered forward next, to be included in the photograph. The label still wasn’t sure how to ‘massage him into the band’s core brand’ as one of the bright, interchangeable young PR people had put it and Levi wished he didn’t even have to try. Some bullshit never changed.

They wanted him to watch all the band’s old interviews, and Levi put on a dutiful look and agreed, but secretly it wasn’t such a hardship.

They were both gorgeous, those two; fresh faced and charismatic, and Levi watched them joke and giggle and prod each other, squirming across a variety of TV talk show couches, along with their ex-bandmate Reiner. They’d always been all over each other, apparently, and Levi wondered why the PR people hadn’t told them to put a stop to it. Some of their comments were downright suggestive.

Levi didn’t need the mental images of the lean, leggy young men wrapped around each other like that, their stories of sharing hotel rooms and the back of a van working all too vividly on his imagination.

He didn’t know what to make of this whole situation sometimes; no one gets a second chance like that, a rediscovery and the opportunity to return to the stage after all those years. That alone seemed too much to expect, and here he was with two frankly beautiful young men who apparently saw in him nothing but good things. Even after they found out about his stage fright they seemed to think it was just something to manage rather than a deal-breaker.

He should be more grateful, and stop imagining them naked at the very least.

“At least you’ve done all this before,” Jean said when the shoot was over and they were heading back in the car. “It was a hell of a learning curve for us.”

“Mm.” Levi didn’t feel like discussing it; he’d felt like a third wheel for most of the time, and he doubted no amount of massaging the message was going to change that. How could it? He was a decade older than they were, and they’d almost literally found him in the trash.

He could almost sense them looking at each other, trying to work out why he was in a bad mood. Did they really know him so well so fast? Or maybe it wasn’t him at all, and they were silently communicating about more personal things.

“We should work on our narrative,” Eren said, when they’d retreated back to the boys’ apartment. Levi had sort of wanted to leave, but they had work to do. “They’re gonna keep bugging us until we have something.” He frowned. “We need something.”

Levi watched Eren return from the fridge and choose a seat across from Jean, flopping into it and somehow managing not to spill his drink. They always pulled apart when he was with them, and it was starting to bug him a little. He wasn’t prejudiced or anything.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he said.

“Do what?” Eren asked.

“Act distant with each other when I’m here. I’m not going to be bothered,” he lied slightly. It didn’t bug him for the obvious reasons at least.

“We’re not?” Jean looked puzzled.

Levi rolled his eyes. “You were practically sitting in his lap earlier.”

“Oh that!” Eren laughed, a little awkwardly. “It’s for the cameras, you know.”


“The fans love it,” Jean explained. “The idea that we might be fucking in private. They get really invested. So,” he shrugged. “We play up to it a bit.”

“Don’t worry, Levi, we won’t make you do it,” Eren assured him.

“Too old?” Levi suggested wryly.

“No. I mean, you wouldn’t like it, right?”

He could feel their eyes on him, and he resisted the urge to squirm in his chair. He wished desperately he’d never raised the topic to start with.

“I wouldn’t really mind,” he said eventually. “I mean, if they like it.”

“Well that’s great!” Eren said, with more enthusiasm than Levi thought was necessary. “We know our narrative now, don’t we?”

Levi got the distinct impression they were communicating via eye contact again.

“And he was so good!” Jean declared, beaming at the host. “We were like, we have to get this guy to play with us.”

“And then we got him out of those overalls,” Eren said, leaning against Levi on the other side. “And look at this!” He grabbed Levi’s bicep and Levi flexed good-naturedly as the crowd oohed.

“Oh my God, those arms,” the host said, pulling a shocked and delighted face for the camera. “Can I touch them?” she asked.

And Levi, firmly wedged between his bandmates, Jean’s thigh pressed against his own and Eren’s breath tickling his ear, wasn’t sure if he was in heaven or hell, but he wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

libra & aquarius

They say,
“when you meet your soulmate, you see everything in color”
but I haven’t seen in black and white,
my colors now just happen to be bright

They say,
“young love does not last”
but two people who are meant to be,
they are stronger than their past
and their talks are deeper than the sea

And then we say,
“we’re sorry for the curse,
but goddamn you have no idea,
together we hold the universe


The Women of the Bright Young Things

The Bright Young Things, or Bright Young People, was a nickname given by the tabloid press to a group of bohemian young aristocrats and socialites in 1920s London. They threw glamorous fancy dress parties, went on elaborate treasure hunts through nighttime London, drank heavily and used drugs—all of which was enthusiastically covered by journalists during the time.

even without knowing you i still celebrate your birthday and mourn your death, and those who your hand is guilty of their absence.
you could’ve been such a great man, but thanks to your mistakes you took that privilege away from yourself and 13/14 other people.
such a bright young man with a bright future ahead of him gone because of his pain and sorrow.
you’re missed by your family, friends, and all of us who love you.
happy birthday Dyl

ONE DAY IN THE LIFE OF THE GROUCHO CLUB, excerpt from "More Fool Me. A Memoir" by Stephen Fry

So, back to the Groucho. (…)

Let us say it is a sunny autumn afternoon in the early 1990s. (…) I take my post-luncheon brandy to the bar. A pair of adorably cute boys are sitting there, rhythmically drumming the bar-rail with their feet and looking nervously about them. I estimate that they are in their mid-twenties.

I have always felt that the Groucho should be a club within the most sociable meaning of the act and that open friendliness ought to be a very part of its nature. People should be made to feel welcome and at home, not snubbed or avoided. Which is not to say that they should be interrupted or have their conversations crashed. It seems to me that these two young men are certainly in need of a solacing word or two.
‘Hello,’ I say, slipping on to a stool next to them.
They nod and smile.
‘You look as if you are a little bewildered?’
‘Well,’ says one of them, who had charming mousy hair, ‘it’s the Groucho Club. You hear things …’
‘Goodness,’ say I. ‘What sort of things?’
‘That it’s a bit, you know …’ says the other, who has perfectly black hair and the deepest brown eyes, ‘not for the likes of us.’
‘Oh now, pish,’ I reply. ‘You look like just the kind of young bright people that the Groucho would most welcome. Tell me, what do you do?’
‘We’re musicians,’ says the mousy-haired one with just a hint of endearing mockney.
‘Ah, well then. You’re exactly the kind of members the club needs. I’ll make sure your candidacies are fast-tracked. Don’t you move a muscle. I’ll be right back.’
I nip to the front desk and ask – Lily would it have been? – to give me a couple of membership forms. I return, brandishing them.
‘Let’s fill these in then,’ I say. ‘Hm. “Profession?” … Musicians. “Address?” … I’ll leave you to fill those in, along with telephone numbers. “Proposer?” … I’ll sign that. “Seconder?” …’ I scan the bar area. ‘Tim!’ I call to an old friend and Groucho regular. ‘Come and second these two splendid fellows. They’re called … sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know your names …’
‘Alex,’ says the one with the black hair and brown, brown eyes.
‘Damon,’ says the one with the mousy hair and, now that I look more closely, wonderfully blue, blue eyes.
‘And they’re musicians!’ I tell Tim.
Tim takes the form and signs.
‘Are you currently in work, or do you have a band or something?’ I inquire of the pair.
‘Stephen,’ says Tim, ‘this is Damon Albarn and Alex James. They are Blur.’
This is not very helpful to me.
‘Park Life?’
‘It’s OK,’ says the dark-haired one called Alex, extending his hand to be shaken. ‘Big fan.’
Hands are shaken, and drinks ordered all round. I leave the filled-in proposal forms with the front desk (…)
The afternoon takes shape. Damon has to leave, but meanwhile Keith Allen has arrived. Keith has entered in bonhomous mood. He already knows Alex James. In fact they are to go on and have a long and productive friendship. Aside from anything else, they give the world Fat Les and the hit single ‘Vindaloo’, for which the world will always be dizzy with gratitude.
There is a strange stumbling noise on the stairs. Up comes a round-faced, shaggy-eyebrowed young man.
‘You’re all fucking wankers,’ he says. ‘And you …’ he points at Alex. ‘Where’s that shithead All Bran?’
Alex smiles dozily.
‘Fuck you all. You can’t play for fucking toffee.’ This strange interloper grabs my cue. ‘And you,’ he says to me, ‘you are a poncey tosser.’
‘Right,’ I say. ‘OK. Poncey tosser. I shall make a note of that.’
‘Fuck off!’ he shouts, stabbing the cue up in the air. The round end of the butt bangs violently into the low ceiling. Dust descends.
He drops the cue and throws himself back down the stairs.
‘Well,’ I say. ‘Who on earth …?’
Keith is stepping on to a chair, magic marker in hand. ‘Fuck’s sake, Stephen. Don’t you know anything? Liam Gallagher.’
He draws a ring round the circular dent left in the plasterwork and writes: ‘The mark of a cunt.’
‘Oasis,’ Alex explains. ‘There’s this really dumb thing about which one of us bands is better.’
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Ah. Yes. Quite. I see.’ Not seeing at all.

godddDdd i wish this culture of romanticizing excessive drug abuse + poppin pills would fuckin die off!!! we are losing so many young, bright, talented people way 2 goddamn early bc yall think its dope to swallow 8 xanax that’re MOST LIKELY laced w fentanyl!!!!!! stop!!!! i beg!!!!!!!! these kids buy this shit on the web cheap as hell bc it’s laced w a substance that could literally kill u immediately. please. be smart and take care of yourselves.

anonymous asked:

hello! what podcasts do you listen to I'm looking for a new one to binge listen to thank you!!!!

what a good question, friend! i listen to a whole bunch of podcasts. here’s the rundown (and sorry it got a little long…):

wolf 359: look. if you haven’t heard this podcast idk how you found my blog. space shenanigans and strong female characters abound. go listen to it.

the penumbra podcast: gay space detective noir! canon nonbinary characters! everyone is queer and i’m in love! also– heartbreaking pain!!! seriously honestly go listen to this one too.

the bridge: a podcast that has very quickly and surprisingly rocketed to the top of my list. what happens if you build a bridge across the atlantic ocean? giant goldfish and immortal characters lots of shenanigans and really, really good storytelling. i highly recommend checking it out– and there isn’t too much of it yet so you’ll catch up quickly!

the bright sessions: another classic. young people with superpowers go to therapy. it’s the thing I needed when I was like 12 and also a thing I need now. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m going to highly recommend every single one of these, but I highly recommend this one too

ars paradoxica: super duper complicated but REALLY COOL science and time travel business! asexual representation! female scientists! the best audio engineering I’ve ever heard! if you have the brain energy to really really pay attention, check this one out!!

welcome to night vale: i mean, duh. my podcast gateway drug– I started listening back in 2012 or so. if you haven’t heard it, you need to hear it.

the adventure zone: my current binge! i’ve heard 38 hour long episodes in the last week and honestly I don’t know what’s real and what’s dungeons and dragons adventures. I was reluctant to start it because I’ve never played dnd but you catch on real quick.

limetown: THE SPOOKIEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD. there’s only like 13 episodes and i haven’t heard anything if they’re making more, but it’s soooooooo cool. like serial, but fictional and scary as shit.

honorable mentions go to the strange case of starship iris (only has one episode but it’s super cool), kakos industries (ridiculous and entirely nsfw, like if night vale were a corporation that– oh wait it’s desert bluffs), alice isn’t dead (i haven’t finished it yet but I need to), eos 10 (idk why I’m not as in love with this one as everyone else seems to be), and jim robbie and the wanderers (because they had a HANUKKAH SPECIAL BLESS THEIR HEARTS).