I've seen people saying that elements from the planned book sequel were incorporated into the first season. One of them being the body swap to get heaven and hell to leave them alone.
This makes me think that was what the planned ending with Terry pratchett was meant to be, resulting in them being able to retire to the South Downs and live peacefully.
Instead NG had already used that up so had to come up with some new bullshit to squeeze out the extra seasons.
So in fact only season 1 is canon and we can take it they did decide to move to the South Downs together at some point after the ending.
Anyone know the source of this? If so it's starting to make sense how it went so wrong.
Still don't get why such a horrible script was allowed to be filmed but there we go.
This is another thing that pisses me off. If he just used the body swap in S1, fine. It was a great ending, but like so many other things in S1 there was never any call-back. Never any consequences. Did Heaven and Hell ever figure out what they'd done? And what would happen if and when they did?
And what if they'd done it again?
There was so much there to play with. You had bodyswaps, a former antichrist, a witch, the son of an American ambassador who had accidentally been raised by eldritch beings. And he used none of it, only to yank idiot plot points like the Book of Life and the Eternal Flame out of his arse at the eleventh hour.
Remember all that fevered speculation about the Metatron's motives, the coffee, the clock, the possibility that Aziraphale and Crowley had swapped during the kiss?
It was all for nothing! Nothing meant anything because it was just really, really shit writing. Like breathtakingly, eye-poppingly, holy-shit-you-should-be-fucking-studiedly bad writing. Every possible call-back abandoned, foreshadowings left hanging in tatters, characters mutilated beyond recognition, and plot points that could have gone somewhere ditched for last minute contrivances.
I don't know how you fuck it up this hard. I hate to admit it, but I'm almost in awe.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
BTW, please don't blame that bummer ending on the writers being horror writers. Horror writers are, by and large, quite lovely, and we're not averse to an uplifting ending. Promise.
Started out writing again out of spite, but also because I need to see Crowley as a stressed-out cat dad whose pets have widdled all over the back of his car, and is now desperately searching a service station on the A3 for somewhere that sells Dreamies and Febreze.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
imagine trying to pretend you were an equal co-author on a successful book and you don't even know what it was about. How embarrassing! Wild horses would not get me to make a 90 minute movie showing that I know fuck-all about the book I allegedly was an equal co-author on.
NG (fuck NG) thought of a book plot where a demon finds himself in The Omen movie. But he screws up the baby switch. And the Antichrist grew up as a character in a Richmal Crompton novel.
He didn't know what to do with it next.
TP offered to buy the story. He changed the demon into a demon and an angel defying their bosses on the earth they both loved. He added his smart whimsy and gave the story a moral core far beyond a silly spoof.
When the story was written, queer kids saw themselves in the angel and demon based on the subtext. Because they lived in subtext.
Gender fluid and trans readers created stories about an angel and demon for whom gender was a choice depending on how or whether they decided to make an effort.
The strangeness of fitting into a planet dominated by beings the angel and demon differed from spoke to neurodivergent readers.
Religious readers found healing after years of struggling to make sense of doctrine divorced from morality.
Some ace and aro readers saw the deep and meaningful relationship beyond romance between a pair together over 6000 years.
And tons of horny people from all walks of life poured their hearts into smut that made the most of beings whose bodies allowed for a range of sexual practice that would never be realistic for humans.
People who felt rejected or unloved because they were "too much" or "too little", took solace from an angel who didn't mind the gruffness of the demon who couldn't bear to be cruel. And the demon who liked the angel being a little bit of a bastard. If an angel and demon could care for and accept each other for themselves, perhaps it could happen for them too?
This is why the Good Omens fandom is so special. Transformation has been baked into his story from the very beginning.
Biblical fan fiction, a collaborative story by two authors, a tv show/movie brought to life by a team of actors, designers, writers...
And now also entire worlds of fan fiction and art. Good Omens continues to transform itself and the people who love it. And it will always be ours as we continue to transform it for generations to come.
artistsuniversum: âKathin Marchenko is a textile artist and designer known for her expressive embroidery on delicate tulle fabric.
Using a "painting with thread" technique, she creates portraits, anatomical forms, and ethereal figures that seem to float within wooden hoops, blending craft with fine art.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
I love that four different people on my feed scheduled this joyous person to reblog by 8am on June 1. I look forward to seeing this a dozen more times today.
It was autumn in Rome, a cooler night than of late, bringing relief to those who had survived the furnace of summer. It was also 1484, and the frescoed halls of the Vatican were moody with the kind of gloomy candlelight that delighted the authors of thick airport thrillers featuring self-flagellating monks.
The Dominican friar walking down the hallway was not a self-flagellator. He was a sadist, and not remotely interested in hurting himself. Unfortunately, like a lot of small-minded sadists, he had a knack of making himself useful to the powerful. He'd already made himself indispensible to the Archbishop of Salzburg, and now heâd slithered to the very top of the greasy pole: He had an audience with the Pope.
If this were one of those thick airport thrillers this would be time for the Holy Father to meet a lurid end at the hand of the Dominican â presumably on behalf of a secret society somewhere â and then have his giblets pulled out and arranged in anagrams for the purposes of a scavenger hunt plot told in short chapters amenable to being read between the time they tell you youâre allowed to take your seatbelt off and the time when the stewards come around with the drinks trolley.
However, this was not an airport thriller. The popeâs intestines remained in situ, digesting the dinner of venison, papardelle, and pickled artichokes that heâd enjoyed, but not as much as the branzino the night before. The Dominican did not split his skull with an axe, or write cryptic messages with his blood on the wall. He didnât even attempt to slip an draft of something toxic into the popeâs after-dinner grappa.
Instead he did something much, much worse: he told a dick joke.
Obviously he didnât just sit down with the pope and tell a dick joke. The dick joke came later, when the two men had sized each other up. The Dominican â whose name was Kramer â hadnât met the pope before, not this one, anyway. The pope was brand new, only elected a couple of months ago, an outsider candidate who had emerged the victor of a cut-throat conclave because cardinals who were playing longer games than him thought he would be useful. He was fifty-two years old, a Genoese by birth, and a Neopolitan by upbringing. He wasnât unusually clever and he wasnât particularly devout, and although he had a couple of bastard children knocking around he was nowhere near thought to be as debauched as one of his main rivals for the papal tiara, Cardinal Borgia. The biggest point in his favour had been that his name was not Medici. Or Orsini. Or Riaro, della Rovere, Collonna, Sforza, or any of the other warring factions who had so much beef with each other that you could have opened the Vatican as a steakhouse in those days. His name was Giovanni Battista Cibo, an amusing name for a man whose chief pleasure in life began and ended with food. He was apparently such a fan of nominative determinism that he chose the papal name Innocent, although Clueless might have been nearer the mark. He swallowed down that dick joke like it was an oyster.Â
âI donât know if you know this about witches, Your Holiness,â said Kramer. âBut they take menâs members. They steal them. They keep them in boxes, where they wriggle about like mice, and the witches keep them alive by feeding them oats and corn. Now, it turns out that one such man who had his member stolen went to the local witch for a replacement. She opened up the box and showed him the living parts within. He reached for the largest, and what do you think she said to him?â
âI have no idea,â said the Pope.
ââYou canât have that one. That belongs to the parish priestâ.â
Nobody laughed. Understandable, as it wasnât the best dick joke in the world, but also because both men in that room were taking it completely seriously. A normal person, on being told with a completely straight face that witches were keeping stray penises as pets, would have laughed, but this was Pope Clueless. Instead he said âWell, that is a worry. Yes,â and a few months later wrote a papal bull.
âMany persons of both sexes, unmindful of their own salvation and straying from the Catholic Faith, have abandoned themselves to devils, incubi, and succubi, and by their incantations, spells, conjurations and other accursed charms and crafts enormities and horrid offences, have slain infants yet in the motherâs womb, as also the offspring of cattle, have blasted the produce of the earth, the grapes of the vine, the fruits of the trees, nay, men and women, beasts of burthen, herd-beasts, and well as animals of other kinds, with terrible and piteous pains and sore diseases, both internal and externalâŚâ
Kramer didnât get exactly what he wanted out of this meeting, which was papal authority to persecute any woman who looked at him funny back in Salzburg. He skulked off home and wrote a book â Malleus Malleficarum. The pope, meanwhile, in giving credence to what was essentially a dick joke told by a man too crack-brained to know he was even telling a dick joke, helped set in motion the fears and loathing that led to the executions of about 60,000 people (mostly women) and the persecution of many more.
It was, arguably, the worst dick joke in history.
Obviously you couldnât write papal bulls like that without drawing the wrong kind of attention. When you tell devils that they have been up to all of these terrible things it stands to reason that at least a couple of the more enterprising devils donât look at it and get ideas. Were people in Upper Germany abandoning themselves to devils, incubi, and succubi and getting up to conjurations and enormities? If not, then perhaps there was a market there. And if the popeâs fever dreams were leading to more evil in the world then maybe it made sense to give those fever dreams a bit of a prod? Just gas him up a bit, maybe, and let him cause some more chaos. It would free up a bunch of demons to doâŚother things.
âLike swan around Italy imbibing human wine, you mean?â said Hastur. âNo, I think youâve done enough of that, Crowley. Youâre going on night shift.â
âOk-ay,â said Crowley, realising too late heâd chosen the wrong moment to be a smartarse. Nobody wanted night shift, and heâd never been a succubus. âBut Iâm not really suited for night shift. I donât have all theâŚyou knowâŚequipment.â
âEasily done,â said Hastur, and waved a hand. âReport to Sandra. Sheâll show you the ropes.â
He walked away. Crowley sagged at the knees and sighed. âWell, shit,â she said.
So Gabriel/Beez was just a jokey narrative foil huh? I know it's a little thing to grieve but like, the implications of that crack ship being made real were actually kinda interesting but whatever nobody has free will or whatever I guess
This is long and jumbled and speculative but I wrote it so might as well blog it, if not now then when really (maybe when I don't have 120 midterms to grade? lmao)
I seem to recall that NG is (was?) a combo plot-pantser in the sense that there would be story *events* written out but the actual way those things came about was all flying by the seat of the pants as you go. I've said it elsewhere but I have a deep suspicion that the big picture story beats probably existed in some form that is referred to as the "script" that needed to be modified, but nothing much else was actually properly written except maybe in sketchy notes. The outline was probably handed off to the 2 dudes who then likely watched S1 and 2 for a sense of the characters and what "callbacks" would make the fans feel like this was the same show and then they wrote what we saw. The memberberry crop is bountiful in S3 without any real context because what they saw as connective tissue was more a focus on catchphrase and emotional-beat-good-tv craft than a reflection on internal character development. The events of spoken words, not what they're meant to represent.
I've only read one book by Marshall Smith, and I found it to be a bit of that tedious type of writing some men are delighted by, where they are convinced that cynical atheism and flippant clichĂŠ makes them fucking hilarious. Grim stuff if you actually like to read but definitely runs forward on slick wheels with a big ol' engine.
Peter Atkins has a long history of misunderstanding what makes something good (wrote the Hellraiser sequels lmao) and his fiction is also super bleakly interested in cheap "deep" characterization that's actually a bucket of cliches masked by skidding over the interesting stuff in favour of tedious dude-nihilism. No chance in hell either were actual fans of the book and both would have missed what was could be mined from the likable bits in s2 in favour of the struggle against "doing what Heaven wants because Heaven is evil, actually and also the worst thing in the world is the unlikelihood of a libertarian conception of free willâĄ, also love always ultimately destroys you lol only death makes meaning"... I feel like this isn't quite my point;
this is hard to articulate because I just have met *so many" of this type of dude rolling through my classes! They love being able to say they took Philosophy 101! They have all read Thus Spoke Zarathustra, or at least pretended to, which is why I do not teach Nietzsche any longer! Not a single one of them has ever noticed the blatant homosocial subtext of Top Gun, and none of them think there is a rape scene in Bladerunner! I'm gesturing to a type of person who it sounds like I'm being rude about, but some of them are perfectly nice folks! They just...care about different parts of literature and thematic synthesis than probably we all do. I think it's crap, but I'm sure they aren't a fan of Elizabeth Bowen's work or etc so whatever takes all kinds
Anyway the point I'm making here is that the script was hacked together from big-picture story beats and, yes, rushed for screentime, but also written by clichĂŠ monster dudes with nobody able to make them dig in to the original text, a history of thinking literary torture is deep and who had no concern for the thematic movements...then was modified a bit on the fly by actors who don't do a lot of improv if the interviews are accurate and everyone on Hell's own time crunch.
The script had everyone being low key dicks to each other because that's what passes for humour for the scriptwriters; for example, Muriel is literally a fucking joke because obviously that's what they're for, to be the punching bag. They were a little daffy which means they're dumb, after all. God is laughing it up with Satan because fuck you mom and dad, we know what you think but we're so above it actually. Free will can't exist when gods exist because that's sheeple thinking (I am sooooo profoundly professionally irritated by how shallow this is, but none of you want a lecture on Kant right now!) Jesus is useless because that person is so loaded with icky evangelicalism, and stoic self sacrifice to be able to wipe the slate clean is what A Good Person Would Do (and you get to shoehorn a blatant boring jesus metaphor in there!) but they won't talk about it, actions are better than "blah blah blah" after all.
Ultimately a character can't be smarter, more clever or more authentically capable of care than their author(s). I'm grateful to Rachel T. for pulling together what she could and to everyone involved to making something happen to fulfil an implicit promise to the fans but the tldr is just wooooof the writing could have been better (with what time, money and clout though?)
I mean yes to all of this, but hold the motherfucking phone: there are people who don't see the gayness in Top Gun?
I'm sorry, but how does this work? There's a topless volleyball montage to Playing With the Boys that looks like it was sponsored by Johnson's Baby Oil, ffs.
I thought fascists who didn't realise The Boys was taking the piss out of them were the height of media illiteracy, but these guys might be even more astonishing.
I'm making this available to everyone again because I'm not very articulate and I have lots of feelings about the shitehouse mess that creep made of...well...everything, really.
I explain myself far better in fiction, so I'll do that. Initially I was going to finish this before S2, but S2 left me kind of cold, tbh. The minisodes were superb, but the Whickber Street stuff felt pointless. And Gabriel? Oh, okay. So you're just going to turn up nude, say some twee shit, drink some cocoa and be such an adorable tabula rasa that we forget you tried to set fire to someone and told him to die? It's not addressed, you see. Yes, Crowley confronts him about it, but he doesn't, not really. He confronts Jim, a mind-wiped innocent who can't rightly be held responsible for the shitty things he did before. Crowley realises this and backs off, but as for Aziraphale? Does he get any real contrition from Gabriel once Gabriel returns to himself? Not as far as I can see. Gabriel just swans off to Alpha Centauri without a backwards glance or any self-reflection.
Didn't care for it, and in the light of the way certain people keep popping up, acting twee, and hoping we all forget what he did? Yeah. Hate that.
S2 left me feeling like I'd eaten a huge bowl of frosting without the cake, so I couldn't see any way to work it into what I already had here - six fics and one unfinished. Besides, I knew how it ended, sort of.
I still know how it ends, but I've also realised it's going to be a great way to shit on the finale while also telling multiple dick jokes and finally addressing what Crowley got up to in the Papal Apartments in 1485.
So if you're looking for something that picks up from after S1 then I've got you covered here. Featuring bonus appearances by Madame Tracey, Charles I, Sister Mary Loquacious, Shadwell, Anathema Device, Leonardo da Vinci, and a really uncomfortable encounter with Thou-Shalt-Not-Commit-Adultery Pulsifer.
ETA: Oh, and in case I didn't make it obvious, I'm finishing this fucker. See? Told you I'm not articulate.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming