solstice sound poem with Alex

This is not a song. I am only peripherally in it – at one point you can hear my phlegmy cough, sorry about that lol. This is so my mOm can hear her grandson’s voice babbling and laughing any time she wants. It’s two and a half minutes of sonic mayhem. it was the winter solstice….

 

Thorfinn’s Song – Dunnett filk from King Hereafter

CW SPOILERS FOR KING HEREAFTER

This is also called ‘The Standard of a Crow’ but GOSH it really should be a raven. The novel this comes from is King Hereafter, and it’s her take on Macbeth. It is a f)cking amazing novel; Viking and Christian life is shown in detail, and there are so many amazing battle sequences… it’s a lively book, with a love story at its heart and a really interesting and quiet depiction of the friendship between men as one of its many pleasures.

You don’t want to have find rhymes for raven. that’s why it’s a crow. AND FILK.

Please note that the previously published lyrics for this have been superseded by the lyrics shown below. OBVIOUSLY THESE ARE SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE BOOK

The MP3 file is for the first two verses and choruses.

When you’re deep down in it       (Note: battle rage)
As deep as you know how to go
There’s no end, once you begin it
Your foster father taught you so
It’s a dream, it’s a trap
For no matter how far down you go
You must rise up for the next battle
And stand under the standard of a crow

Pull the axe from my battered hands (forty miles a day, o!)
There was a lot of blood, not all of it mine (ridin’ in the rain, o!)
I am good at killing men (make a joke, run him through, o!)
If you would follow me, now you must ride (ride, ride, ride)

It isn’t wise to ask them  (note: seers and fortune tellers)
Folks seeking comfort are rarely wise
The seer said I’d take half the battle
And mocked me for the doubt in my eyes
It’s a dream, my heart rattled
I saw her eyes, like oxblood on snow
Hers the first face that I am seeking
Standing on my stirrups, underneath the standard of a crow

Pull the axe from my battered hands (forty miles a day, o!)
There was a lot of blood, not all of it mine (ridin’ in the rain, o!)
I am good at killing men (make a joke, run him through, o!)
If you would follow me, now you must ride (ride, ride, ride)

She has an errand, seaward (note, he asks her to say goodbye to the sea for him, because he was a frickin’ Viking after all)
I die on land an aged fool
She’ll make my goodbye for me
make herself a young king’s school
It’s a dream, it’s a trap
Knowing that life goes on, just so
But she made it through one last battle
Still stands under the standard of the crow

Still stands under the standard of the crow

Destiel filk – Spread ’em up to Heaven

So Supernatural is a show that ran 15 LONG years, interrupted by the writers’ strike and the pandemic, and it introduced Destiel, the fan pairing of the characters of supernatural creature hunter Dean Winchester and the Seraph (always referred to as an angel) Castiel, played by Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins.

The chemistry was instant and obvious to most fans. The writers encouraged it over 11 seasons. There’s no reason to believe that a sexual relationship between the two was ever really contemplated, but a platonic relationship as committed and lasting as a marriage was MORE than hinted at, and I would have been happy with that, and in the end, the fans got fucking burned in a pile of queerbaiting exec notes. We got a love confession out of Castiel WHO PROMPTLY WENT TO THE BLACK EMPTINESS OF OBLIVION and nothing out of Dean, and I was so angry I didn’t watch the last episode, because I knew I’d be disappointed, and when I heard the shrieking of the fans, I knew I’d saved myself a lot of grief.

I believe, and it will never be proved, that they shitcanned anything the slightest bit gay out of Dean because the CW was rolling out a hypermasculinist cop show for Jared Padalecki and the execs didn’t want to piss off potential viewers. That show, a reboot of the ‘Walker’ franchise, has been renewed for a second season but it’s on shaky ground – a lot of the SPN fans I follow have no interest in it and its numbers aren’t great. It seems a shitty deal to me, but as long as ‘the right people’ are making money I guess I have nothing to add.

I’ve written about 400K  fanfic words in about 30 stories

and ten more in the hopper waiting to be finished/polished

some of the published stuff I’ve since deleted

for that particular pairing, and so

of course

could a song be far off? I wrote it before the last episode was in the can, and I’m sorry, because the execs fucked this one up hard. The fans didn’t get our HEA (Happy ever after)although the writers did their best.

I have many strong opinions, but since I mouth off about it almost daily, I put them on twitter, not here. Strongest opinion: leave the actors, their wives, friends, children and agents alone. I don’t want them to see my fanfic because that shit’s weird and scary for the actors; it’s not for them, it’s for me and about a thousand other fans, nobody else. Second: Jensen Ackles is a better actor than both Jared Padalecki and Misha Collins. Put together. Third: Dean was bisexual before Castiel showed up. I will fucking fight you over that, the textual and video evidence is compelling.

If you want to know my moniker on AO3 DM me. The genre is AU (alternate universe; same characters in different occupations, ages, etc) fluff, gay smut, domestic banter and the one time I actually did a supernatural destiel fanfic (I have since pulled it down, it got such terrible numbers, despite being fantastic, I got pissed and said yoink) it had little girl hunters who try to stab the King of Hell and magical fucking talking cats in it WHO ENDED UP EATING CROWLEY’S HELL HOUND so yeah, I try to stick to fluff, banter, communication, pining and smut, with HEA…. since that’s less realistic than magical cats. Also most of the time I don’t use OC (Original Characters…. you know, Mary Sue), I just repurpose the same 15 characters from the show over and over again in different ways.

Spread em up to Heaven

(Castiel is singing)

Angels in their true form are big and stern and feathered
to gaze upon one in this form makes humans come untethered
and gender’s not an issue (much) for Heaven’s fighting squad
Taking orders, smiting demons, ever faithful to my God who……
(brief pause to be very confused)
Then gave me Dean Winchester to reconstruct from Hell
God Spake: Start with his mouth! you’ll get to know it well!
And please don’t ever worry about anything I’m plannin’
Gay love saves the day you know, It’s ABSOLUTELY CANON

Heaven, Heaven, spread em up to Heaven
I’m going to spread my great big wings for you
Heaven, Heaven, spread em up to Heaven
I’m going to spread my wings for you
I bet you’ll like most everything they do

Interspecies romances are always such a trial
I don’t know just what to feel and Dean’s good with denial
And yes I worry constantly about what Chuck (note, aka ‘God’) may plan
And so should all of you till the very last episode’s in the can!

Heaven, Heaven, spread em up to Heaven
I’m going to spread my great big wings for you
Heaven, Heaven, spread em up to Heaven
I’m going to spread my wings for you
I bet you’ll like most everything they do

 

 

Dr. Who?

Lyrics available upon request… but why

The song ends in the same key as the Dr. Who Theme so at the end you’re supposed to vamp the theme to a fadeout. It’s actually quite effective but I’m not taking on the fucking Beeb with IP issues. LOL. No, I’ll just mock them and their works, haw haw.

I don’t repudiate the song, but I should. It wormed its way into a Conflikt songbook before I realized that the entire song is antithetical to filk fandom in a number of strong and structural ways. It is a problematic song. It is a difficult song. It is a very self-centred and elitist song.

“50 years just makes it old, it doesn’t make it fine.”

Of course that’s all you need to say to get Dr. Who fans (who are…. engaged) to start beating on you verbally. Next time somebody does I’m going to compare their vigour in defending it to colonialism and then the fur can really fly.

The song I wrote for Willie P. Bennett when he died in 2008

This was originally composed on the Aria mandolin (Edith) that Keith had for a while and then donated to me, which got me started on having Otto, which was a good thing. Miss Margot came and sat with me when I was working on it. There are no lyrics. The formal title is Willie P.’s Lament.

I am glad

 

I am glad that I am older
because when I was younger
I thought fireworks were friendly fun
But carrying a baby while John shot that roman candle at me *
made me think
maybe I’m wrong
It’s one idea, among them all
but if I have to call it right or good
this is not the one

*it was not deliberate and I had agency over my distance.

I am glad that I am older
thanks to some crucial luck
at birth ‘n every year come since
I lived long enough to come to understand that all this luck
is held up
by a thing
called white supremacy
and now I have to come up with some proof
that I give a fuck

I am glad that I am older
and my loved ones help pay for my time
to think about how to heal this hurt
I lived long enough to look at it as a lot of work
a lot of
fucking work
Like more than I could do in one small lifetime
but I know
what is owed
Don’t want to be a jerk

 

So I started writing this after eleven and it just banged the noon gong. There is a very powerful melody for this and apart from additional voices, one trombone and two french horns I can’t hear any orchestration and I’m basically okay with it being solo voice. I should record a scratch track. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS THING RIGHT NOW.

I will however continue to sing it through until the tune quits wriggling around quite so hard.

They totally did not get cleaned

people who want to know can ask me, I won’t say why. All is well.

I MADE CRUNCHY NUTELLA and ate it all. (later this year I find out I’ve developed an allergy to hazelnuts, lol (added June 9))

TOM CAME BY WITH PEGGY’S STRAWBERRY RHUBARB PIE. It is spectacularly good, srsly. I must call her.

We watched the Méliès Mystery documentary.

I have not mailed anything. I need to phone Paul.

This is a new song, European cheesy ballad of the 60s style

I have no love
Only wistful dreams
I have no home
for the longings of my heart
before me now
a shining vista gleams
that you love me
and love me only

and then you go and fart

My dreams are ASH
I think my eyelid’s welded shut
I soar then crash
Like a kite whose string is cut
The woe I feel
In knowing we must part
Please know that I am grieving
with each step as I’m leaving
but I’d like to go on breathing

and then you go and fart

End of Song a day run

I have about another forty songs to prep and record, and I’ve run out of both songs and energy. I’ll post them when I can and then put together a master post with all of the songs listed.

I lost a lot of recordings when I lost a hard drive, and I’ve written some stuff since, but as far as recordable tunes, the count is currently somewhere around 170. Not as good as I thought, but better than most, I imagine.

Current projects:

continuing to write letters (mailed two yesterday, received a MOST welcome letter from Lois, may her god continue to bless and keep her)

HOTM – just the ‘best roommate in the world section’ is ALREADY novel length – okay 47K words but damned close. It may end up being a novel all by itself. I am working on it.

Bih-bah the conlang

Tarot for Atheists

My sanity – which is, I’ll be candid, not good at the moment

Attempting to remove ableist language from my vocabulary. WOW OH WOW is that hard.