âBy the first world war, soldiers swore so much that the word âfuckingâ came to function as no more than âa warning that a noun is comingâ. â
Guardian review of Holy Sh*t: A Brief History of Swearing by Melissa MohrÂ
i would like to take this opportunity to present my headcanon about that infamous âlanguage!â line: steve and the howlies had such dirty mouths that they had to be constantly reminded to clean it up for the reporters that followed them around. so steve heard a swear word over the radio and had a kneejerk stop that weâre being filmed for the folks back home reaction.
in other words, he said âlanguageâ not because he never swears, but because if heâs not on guard he swears way too much. :D
And the interesting thing about actually dealing with people who do swear to that degree, which I have, is that eventually your brain completely tunes the word fucking out.
You basically donât hear it. It becomes unimportant noise.
I was actually just talking to someone last night about how when I was a kid (the 80s), no one said âfuckâ or âshit,â ever, but people casually tossed slurs around like nobodyâs business. Now people use âfuckâ and âshitâ like punctuation, but slurs are increasingly tabooâand thatâs exactly how it should fucking be.
When I first saw this post go around, I was traveling, but I had something I wanted to say and I could never find it again.
Okay, so, this post isnât wrong, but what the original gifset doesnât take into account (though some of the commentary touches on it) is how incredibly situational swearing was in the 1940s.
So, yes, men swore a lot â around other guys, in certain contexts. But they were very heavily conditioned not to swear around women and kids.
I think this might be one of the big reasons why a lot of people my age and younger got the idea that people didnât swear during the 1940s. Most of us fell into the âkidâ or âfemaleâ categories, or both, and guys our grandparentsâ age would never, ever say âfuckâ around us. And those words werenât usually used in media of the era for similar reasons, so we got the idea that people that age were very prim and polite, when itâs more that they were prim and polite around us.
I remember as a young woman walking in on groups of old blue-collar guys talking among themselves, with profanity flying freely, and then noticing me in the room and immediately clamming up and apologizing to me for swearing around me.
Thereâs a bit in the Douglas Bader biography I was reading a month or so ago that demonstrates this in a WWII context. According to the book, the squadron pilots swore freely in their radio chatter to each other in the field, to the amusement of the WAAFs (female service personnel) who were listening to the radio in an ops room as they moved counters around on maps (much like we see Peggy doing in TFA) and the embarrassment of their commander:
After awhile, to the regret of the Beauty Chorus [the WAAFs], Woodhall disconnected the loud-speaker in the Ops Room, feeling that some of the battle comments were too ripe even for the most sophisticated WAAFs. (âThey laugh, you know,â he said, âbut dammit I get so embarrassed.â)
⌠so, right, even in the middle of a war, pilots saying âfuckâ over the radio was something the female staff had to be insulated from.
Say what you will about the baby boomers, but they largely demolished that wall between âswearing around menâ and âswearing around womenâ. Most guys my dadâs age donât do it anymore, at least not to that much of an extreme. By the time you get to my generation (Iâm 40), people might swear or they might not, and they usually donât swear around young kids, but swearing around men but not around women is just not a thing anyone does anymore. At least I donât know anyone who does it specifically and consistently whoâs not elderly.
Itâs not really an individual-sexism thing, more of a socialization thing â sexist on a societal level, sure, but I donât think Steve would balk at swearing around women, kids, or in a refined or professional social setting because heâs a sexist or a prude. Itâs just something you didnât do as a polite person. Like blowing your nose on the tablecloth in a fancy restaurant. I think he could and probably would unlearn that, but itâd take time.
So, to me, about half the examples up there work just fine (ânow why the fuck would I do thatâ to Bucky â absolutely! Or âIs everything a fucking joke to you?â to Tony) and several jar horribly, because theyâre not the right context (like the âthereâs only one God ma'amâ bit â noooo, you arenât going to get âfuckâ and âma'amâ in the same sentence! not for a Steve fresh from the 1940s! â or âwe have our fucking ordersâ ⌠in a polite, professional context like that, no). Steve would never. Or, I should say, someone from Steveâs culture â who tries in general to be a polite and respectful person, as Steve does â would never. Maybe after heâs had a few years to acclimatize to the more relaxed social climate surrounding swearing in the 21st century, but I think itâd take him awhile; he would sort of instinctively jerk himself back from doing it in all but the most relaxed sort of âpalling around with your teammatesâ environment.
(Headcanon-wise, I could see Steve very quickly incorporating someone like Natasha into his mental schemata as âone of the guysâ â not consciously, but on a subconscious level: like, he doesnât hold back from swearing around her pretty quickly â but taking a LOT longer with someone like Wanda or Pepper.)
tl;dr disclaimer: not a historian, was not alive in the 1940s, so please correct me if Iâm wrong on things here.
Iâm so glad someone said this, because this is something I think a lot of the Steve meta about swearing misses. Situational profanity, exactly! He wouldnât cuss in anything heâd consider âpolite companyâ, because you didnât do that. Iâm absolutely sure heâs capable of having a very foul mouth in some circumstances (he was a soldier who grew up in working-class Brooklyn, so⌠yeah), but in the cultural context where he grew up, you sure as hell didnât say âfuckâ in front of a lady, not if you had any manners to speak of.
/speaking as someone who cusses like breathing, even.
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You can see Luke makes a hash of this greeting, and the Princess is hesitant to do anything until he supplies their personal relevant link: that heâs here with Ben Kenobi.
why did we need Vala how hard would it have been to rescue Sha're and have her on the team alongside Daniel fighting for the same things and also dealing with the aftermath of her time as a host
Daniel deserves an awesome brilliant woman around who really loves him and isn't constantly sexually harassing him and pretending she can't help it đĽş
No but seriously a Sha're Lives AU would be so interesting
And like. She's such a Dead Wife, you know? Even when she's alive. Part of why the Dead Wife trope is so prevalent is that it's a way for your characters to be romantically available (for shipping or girl-of-the-week shenanigans) without the stigma of being single. But what would the show look like if they had to actually play Daniel as married? And like, Daniel/Vala was always there for Belligerent Sexual Tension - they were never supposed to be a functional couple. How would that play with Daniel's tendency to die all the time? Would he have grabbed a nuclear bomb with his bare hands if Sha're had still been alive?
And yeah as @pinkninjapj brings up, an opportunity to actually explore her trauma, you know? Being a passive party to what was ultimately a very loving relationship - Apophis and Amonet were deeply, incongruously, in love with each other. She had a child??? That was her child that she trusted her husband to deliver, but it was also Amonet's child forced upon her (which Amonet was willing to sacrifice herself for, to ensure a healthy birth) - like, the whole harsesis plot is so incredibly messed up but like that child was LOVED by all *counts on fingers* five of its parents. Like WTF. She was with Apophis longer than she was with Daniel. Coming back from that is going to be weird.
And okay. Does she come to Earth afterwards? That's an adjustment. Does she go back to Abydos? Does Daniel go to Abydos and commute to work, as it were? Actually that would be super funny if when Michael Shanks quit instead of ascending to a higher plane of existence he just moved back to Abydos. Like, I adore Daniel's ascended arc because being a nuisance all the way up the ladder is what he's FOR, but "well I joined SG-1 to rescue my wife and then I did so uhhh peace out guys" is just very very funny. (And then if you still have Anubis destroy Abydos at the end of season 6 - which I hated by the way - they can escape back to Earth). Actually if they dealt with Michael Shanks being gone by having like 300% more Erick Avari I would not complain even a little bit. Daniel's busy you get Kasouf.
If Sha're did just replace Vala in the last seasons would that mean she'd have to deal with a second unwanted supernatural pregnancy?? That would really seem like a bit much.
..........although since that was like a bodyswap thing with those stones there is literally no reason Daniel couldn't have the baby instead. Then that could be a bonding experience for them! Just what every couple needs
ANYWAY I understand structurally why it happened but yeah. Killing Sha're was a huge cop out and if anyone has written a good Sha're Lives AU I'd love to see it.
@bluecatwriter - your Lucy Lives AU is awesome. Think you could do Sha're Lives next?
Read Along with Quincey Harker - Van Helsing begins to scheme
This is a Blood of My Blood reading of Dracula, based on the Bad Ending AU created by @ibrithir-was-here @animate-mush @bluecatwriter @see-arcane @thegoatsongs and others.
First Read Along post with context
The Read Along is now on Archive of our Own! With meta and comments included, so collaboration is welcome! You can also see them using this tag on my blog.
Blood of My Blood full AU in order
The funeral was arranged for the next succeeding day, so that Lucy and her mother might be buried together.
Now this was something that Quincey knew of death. The dead are buried, and the soil is important. He even knew that coffins were involved, as dear old Mr Swales had a procession bringing his coffin to the graveyard.
A nice comfortable coffin, buried together with her mother. Quincey could not think of a kinder way to rest.
I noticed that Van Helsing never kept far away. This was possible from the disordered state of things in the household. There were no relatives at hand; and as Arthur had to be back the next day to attend at his father's funeral, we were unable to notify any one who should have been bidden.
The only dead bodies Quincey had known were animals and birds. He understood why Van Helsing stayed near to the body. It felt rude to leave the body alone. Quincey never liked when he had to abandon a dead body where it lay.
"I know; I know. You forget that I am a lawyer as well as a doctor. But this is not altogether for the law. You knew that, when you avoided the coroner. I have more than him to avoid. There may be papers moreâsuch as this."
As he spoke he took from his pocket-book the memorandum which had been in Lucy's breast, and which she had torn in her sleep.
"When you find anything of the solicitor who is for the late Mrs. Westenra, seal all her papers, and write him to-night. For me, I watch here in the room and in Miss Lucy's old room all night, and I myself search for what may be. It is not well that her very thoughts go into the hands of strangers."
Van Helsing, a doctor and a lawyer both! The two professions Quincey had the most admiration for. Truly a remarkable mind, then!
Her thoughts had gone into Father's head. Van Helsing didn't know that. But the paper Father had wanted torn into pieces was saved. It may have been too little, and too late, to stop Lucy's thoughts being plundered, but Van Helsing's actions had preserved some of her mind at least.
"And now, friend John, I think we may to bed. We want sleep, both you and I, and rest to recuperate. To-morrow we shall have much to do, but for the to-night there is no need of us. Alas!"
So many sleepless nights, one after another. It would be good for Doctor Seward to seek comfort through the night from his old Master at a time like this.
There was a wilderness of beautiful white flowers, and death was made as little repulsive as might be. The end of the winding-sheet was laid over the face; when the Professor bent over and turned it gently back, we both started at the beauty before us, the tall wax candles showing a sufficient light to note it well. All Lucy's loveliness had come back to her in death, and the hours that had passed, instead of leaving traces of "decay's effacing fingers," had but restored the beauty of life, till positively I could not believe my eyes that I was looking at a corpse.
Quincey doesn't know anything about beauty in death, but it's evidently not normal, given Doctor Seward's reaction. Father was a vain man, always preening himself and asking for Quincey's carefully worded description of him. Was this some by-product of Father killing Lucy, that it restored something that was so important to him?
He came back with a handful of wild garlic from the box waiting in the hall, but which had not been opened, and placed the flowers amongst the others on and around the bed. Then he took from his neck, inside his collar, a little gold crucifix, and placed it over the mouth. He restored the sheet to its place, and we came away.
Those special little crucifixes - Quincey really had to learn more about why they were so important.
I was undressing in my own room, when, with a premonitory tap at the door, he entered, and at once began to speak:â
Ah, separate rooms, it seems. A shame, Jack would benefit from having someone watch him sleep on a night like that.
Van Helsing - once a Lord, always the same. Doorways and gates are for other people.
"To-morrow I want you to bring me, before night, a set of post-mortem knives."
"Must we make an autopsy?" I asked.
"Yes and no. I want to operate, but not as you think. Let me tell you now, but not a word to another. I want to cut off her head and take out her heart. Ah! you a surgeon, and so shocked!
Professor Van Helsing! Is that... was that normal? Likely not, given Doctor Seward's reaction. But, well, it wasn't like Lucy was using her head and heart, maybe there was some medical reason the Professor wanted to see them extracted.
Still, with the vivid way Lucy's body was described, Quincey cringes away from the idea of doing bodily harm to her, even in death.
Could this be the betrayal of which Father had spoken?
Oh, but I must not forget, my dear friend John, that you loved her; and I have not forgotten it, for it is I that shall operate, and you must only help. I would like to do it to-night, but for Arthur I must not; he will be free after his father's funeral to-morrow, and he will want to see herâto see it. Then, when she is coffined ready for the next day, you and I shall come when all sleep. We shall unscrew the coffin-lid, and shall do our operation: and then replace all, so that none know, save we alone."
Secrecy, so much secrecy! Nothing honest could be done while hiding such a thing from Arthur.
But then, Arthur is Lord now, with all the Powers that come with it. There are reasons to hide things from Lords and Masters.
"But why do it at all? The girl is dead. Why mutilate her poor body without need? And if there is no necessity for a post-mortem and nothing to gain by itâno good to her, to us, to science, to human knowledgeâwhy do it? Without such it is monstrous."
For answer he put his hand on my shoulder, and said, with infinite tenderness:â
"Friend John, I pity your poor bleeding heart; and I love you the more because it does so bleed.
To see the word "monstrous" written out again makes Quincey flinch. He doesn't like that word, he is learning. He hates monsters. But Van Helsing's words are beautiful, so touching to him to link the word love to bleeding in such a way that brings Quincey relief after all that awful talk of blood being stolen and missing.
If I could, I would take on myself the burden that you do bear. But there are things that you know not, but that you shall know, and bless me for knowing, though they are not pleasant things. John, my child, you have been my friend now many years, and yet did you ever know me to do any without good cause? I may errâI am but man; but I believe in all I do. Was it not for these causes that you send for me when the great trouble came?
The guarding of knowledge, and the assurance of wisdom in the face of secrecy. Even the pet names. It is all so familiar to Quincey, the way Van Helsing talked. Just like Father.
Quincey shifts in his seat and bites his bottom lip. Should he trust the words of the Professor? He used to trust Father every time he reassured Quincey with words just as sweet, "Am I not thy loving Father? Everything I do is for good cause, my pet, even this."
Believe me yet a little, friend John. If you trust me not, then I must tell what I think; and that is not perhaps well. And if I workâas work I shall, no matter trust or no trustâwithout my friend trust in me, I work with heavy heart and feel, oh! so lonely when I want all help and courage that may be!" He paused a moment and went on solemnly: "Friend John, there are strange and terrible days before us. Let us not be two, but one, that so we work to a good end. Will you not have faith in me?"
I took his hand, and promised him. I held my door open as he went away, and watched him go into his room and close the door.
An oath of loyalty. Doctor Seward, be careful. Those should not be taken lightly, especially with one whom you have broken free of before. Possessiveness is not a good characteristic to cultivate in a Master.
I must have slept long and soundly, for it was broad daylight when Van Helsing waked me by coming into my room. He came over to my bedside and said:â
"You need not trouble about the knives; we shall not do it."
"Why not?" I asked. For his solemnity of the night before had greatly impressed me.
"Because," he said sternly, "it is too lateâor too early. See!" Here he held up the little golden crucifix. "This was stolen in the night."
What on earth could the golden crucifix have to do with the surgery? Especially since it was recovered from the maid anyway?
at noon the solicitor came: Mr. Marquand [...] the whole estate, real and personal, was left absolutely to Arthur Holmwood. When he had told us so much he went on:â
"Frankly we did our best to prevent such a testamentary disposition, and pointed out certain contingencies that might leave her daughter either penniless or not so free as she should be to act regarding a matrimonial alliance.
The Law was certainly powerful, especially that it could, through one woman's poor choices, bind together two lives or cost them everything they've ever known.
Poor fellow! He looked desperately sad and broken; even his stalwart manhood seemed to have shrunk somewhat under the strain of his much-tried emotions. He had, I knew, been very genuinely and devotedly attached to his father; and to lose him, and at such a time, was a bitter blow to him.
A soft, sad sigh jerked from Quincey's throat. Truly he had lost neither of his fathers, both were living, just distant. But his devoted attachment to the one he had called Father was shaken to the foundation, and he just sorely missed his Papa. He wanted someone here with the hand on his shoulder or his head, and they would explain everything clearly but they would keep no secrets.
He felt grief, he felt anger, he felt lonely. He felt shrunken down like Arthur did in this moment after burying his father.
Which reminds him. Quincey picked up the pen again, and added something to his list, so that it read, in its entirety:
Old people die.
Death is sad.
There is a soul released in death.
A man can cause his own death.
Death is preferable.
Weakness can lead to death.
Those left behind grieve
I did so, and left him at the door of the room, as I felt he would like to be quite alone with her, but he took my arm and led me in, saying huskily:â
"You loved her too, old fellow; she told me all about it, and there was no friend had a closer place in her heart than you. I don't know how to thank you for all you have done for her. I can't think yet...."
Here he suddenly broke down, and threw his arms round my shoulders and laid his head on my breast, crying:â
"Oh, Jack! Jack! What shall I do! The whole of life seems gone from me all at once, and there is nothing in the wide world for me to live for."
They should have been three! It would have been a perfect triad to have Arthur and Jack as they are today, older and changed by time of course, but living together in this house with their wife, Lucy.
The loss is so great that Arthur wishes he could give up living. How does a man even arrive at that thought.
(and Quincey spies the little confirmation, that yes, this Doctor Seward has been Jack all along)
"Jack, is she really dead?"
I assured him sadly that it was so, and went on to suggestâfor I felt that such a horrible doubt should not have life for a moment longer than I could helpâthat it often happened that after death faces became softened and even resolved into their youthful beauty
I told him that that must be good-bye, as the coffin had to be prepared; so he went back and took her dead hand in his and kissed it, and bent over and kissed her forehead. He came away, fondly looking back over his shoulder at her as he came.
He really loved her, and it is such a sweet, sad goodbye.
"Lordââ"; but Arthur interrupted him:â
"No, no, not that, for God's sake! not yet at any rate. Forgive me, sir: I did not mean to speak offensively; it is only because my loss is so recent."
The Professor answered very sweetly:â
"I only used that name because I was in doubt. I must not call you 'Mr.,' and I have grown to love youâyes, my dear boy, to love youâas Arthur."
Arthur held out his hand, and took the old man's warmly.
"Call me what you will," he said. "I hope I may always have the title of a friend.
Professor Van Helsing is collecting young men, putting himself so close to them, but always above.
Though Quincey would likely have given the same reaction if someone from home had called him boyar.
He answered with a grave kindness:â
"I know it was hard for you to quite trust me then, for to trust such violence needs to understand; and I take it that you do notâthat you cannotâtrust me now, for you do not yet understand.
Again, Professor Van Helsing asks for understanding and permission despite violence and secrecy. Quincey doesn't like it. What possible purpose could it serve? Other than to enrich him with power and influence?
I want you to give me permission to read all Miss Lucy's papers and letters. Believe me, it is no idle curiosity. I have a motive of which, be sure, she would have approved. I have them all here. I took them before we knew that all was yours, so that no strange hand might touch themâno strange eye look through words into her soul.
And yet, Van Helsing protected Lucy. Protected her words and, though he was incapable of accessing the mental world, tried to protect her mind and soul by preserving the paper Father tried to destroy. And for all his secrecy, Van Helsing was right, that some strange hand was reaching through the window to steal what didn't belong to him. And he was right to get permission to read Lucy's papers â it would have been horrifically rude otherwise â the mesmer proves that there is some risk to Father's schemes by having those words read, else there wouldn't have been a need to destroy it.
A nice comfortable coffin, buried together with her mother. Quincey could not think of a kinder way to rest.
Heâs really thinking of her as just co-sleeping with her mother, like him when he was little, isnât he? Well, there are worse ways to conceptualize it. Although sharing a bed with Mina might be nicer than sharing a bed with Mrs Westenra.
Her thoughts had gone into Father's head. Van Helsing didn't know that. But the paper Father had wanted torn into pieces was saved. It may have been too little, and too late, to stop Lucy's thoughts being plundered, but Van Helsing's actions had preserved some of her mind at least.
This is the kind of victory against Dracula that never happened when Quincey was a childâŚ
It would be good for Doctor Seward to seek comfort through the night from his old Master at a time like this.
He is certainly making some inferences about Jackâs relationship with Van Helsing!
Father was a vain man, always preening himself and asking for Quincey's carefully worded description of him.
Dracula is such a loserâŚ
Was this some by-product of Father killing Lucy, that it restored something that was so important to him?
I mean. Technically, yes!
Could this be the betrayal of which Father had spoken?
Again: Technically, yes!
But then, Arthur is Lord now, with all the Powers that come with it.
Iâm looking forward to Quinceyâs reaction to Arthur not wanting to be called Lord.
There are reasons to hide things from Lords and Masters.
Heâs making so much progress đĽ°
The guarding of knowledge, and the assurance of wisdom in the face of secrecy. Even the pet names. It is all so familiar to Quincey, the way Van Helsing talked. Just like Father. Quincey shifts in his seat and bites his bottom lip. Should he trust the words of the Professor? He used to trust Father every time he reassured Quincey with words just as sweet, "Am I not thy loving Father? Everything I do is for good cause, my pet, even this."
Van Helsing-Dracula parallels!!!
Iâm sure Quincey is feeling great about Van Helsing calling people âfriend.â /sarcasm
For by her predeceasing her daughter the latter would have come into possession of the property, and, even had she only survived her mother by five minutes, her property would, in case there were no willâand a will was a practical impossibility in such a caseâhave been treated at her decease as under intestacy.
Hmm, Quincey skipped right over this. It would have told him his papa was dead.
Truly he had lost neither of his fathers, both were living, just distant. But his devoted attachment to the one he had called Father was shaken to the foundation, and he just sorely missed his Papa. He wanted someone here with the hand on his shoulder or his head, and they would explain everything clearly but they would keep no secrets.
Itâs so much worse than he knows⌠None of his parents are living and none of them will ever explain everything clearly without secrets.
Those left behind grieve
This one got me đ
(I love that you repeat the whole thing each time, by the way â itâs both poignant and convenient.)
It would have been a perfect triad to have Arthur and Jack as they are today, older and changed by time of course, but living together in this house with their wife, Lucy.
The Ghost of Quincey Morris: What am I, chopped liver?
The loss is so great that Arthur wishes he could give up living. How does a man even arrive at that thought.
ask your papa?
Professor Van Helsing is collecting young men, putting himself so close to them, but always above.
The parallels!!!
And yet, Van Helsing protected Lucy. Protected her words and, though he was incapable of accessing the mental world, tried to protect her mind and soul by preserving the paper Father tried to destroy.
I love that this chapter ends with Quincey striking hard at what actually separates Van Helsing from Dracula, uncomfortable similarities aside: Heâs keeping Lucy part of the narrative, even though it would be so easy to cut her out of it, whereas Dracula will do anything to let his voice override yours. This is a story about document preservation and by George [or other, more relevant saint] Van Helsing will protect that memoranda
Thanks for pointing the irony of âlook [âŚ] into her soulâ â I never noticed that before!
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why did we need Vala how hard would it have been to rescue Sha're and have her on the team alongside Daniel fighting for the same things and also dealing with the aftermath of her time as a host
Why did no one tell me about this... the song is canon in DC... I'm reading Detective Comics #569 right now and this was such a delight to see. You're telling me Harvey has probably actually listened to this banger before? Fate smiles...
"The fun thing for us for that end sequence was his costume -- what he would have left over from the ship. I don't really think you see it in the film but the trousers that he's wearing, they're cut from one of the flight suits. And we've done a belt buckle that's made of xenonite that Rocky would've made for him. And all of the sewing on it is a little bit - it's nowhere near as good as Jenny would normally do, so we had to purposely ask Jenny to do bad sewing at the top of his trousers, so it'd look like he would've done it.
And then our brilliant breakdown department, run by Tim Shanahan, they break everything down to look like it's 10, 20 years old. So his cardigan and the t-shirt's all faded. And even on the laces -- the laces in his chuck taylors -- because your laces always break after a certain period of time, so we found stuff that was on the ship, like elastics and stuff. There's a nice big close-up actually in the film, so you can see that they're not normal laces, they're like stuff that he would've got from the ship that he's made as make-shift laces."
Glyn Dillon, one of the costume designers on Project Hail Mary
I love the xenonite belt buckle! Because of course they would have other materials to make it from by the time they get to Erid, but Grace freaking loves xenonite and Rocky would jump at the chance to tinker with something for him to wear everyday, especially something that reminds them of their adventure together
âone man cannot bring in the anchor. ten men cannot bring in the anchor. but together we can.â
making this because itâs useful for my specific brand of dramaturgy and i generally have a good deal of feelings about sea shanties. these are the result of far too much time searching around for shanties that are both authentic and have a tune that can be found on the internet. organized by theme.
these can all be done a capella, obviously, but if you want accompaniment, getting your hands on a concertina would be ideal.
General Shanties
Roll the Old Chariot Along (David Coffin)
Haul Away, Joe (The Eskies)
Rant and Roar (Howling Gael)
Haul Away the Bowline (The Exmouth Shantymen)
Departing
Away Rio (David Coffin)
Leave Her, Johnny (Coda)
The Rosabella (skip to 3:15) (Wareham Whalers)
Off to Sea Once More (The Black Irish Band)
Clear Away in the Morning (Great Bay Sailor)Â
South Australia (Johnny Collins)
Randy Dandy Oh (Johnny Collins)
Girls
With You, Fair Maid (skip to 14:30) (Before the Mast)
Spanish Ladies (unknown artist) (psa this one is in moby-dick!!)
Bully in the Alley (skip to 24:10) (Before the Mast)
London Julie (Three Sheets to the Wind)
Excursion Round the Bay (The Fables)
The Maid of Amsterdam (The Roaring Trowmen)
Storms
Round Cape Horn (Cyril Tawney)
Fish in the Sea (youtube user threelegsomen)
To Old Maui (skip to 9:28) (Before the Mast)
Drinking
The Boatmanâs Cure  (John Roberts)
Drunken Sailor (Irish Rovers)
Fifteen Men (unknown artist)
Newer/Environmentally Conscious
No More Fish, No More Fisherman (David Coffin)
The Last Leviathan (skip to 13:40) (Fisherman Friends) (bit of a stretch to call this a shanty per se but itâs really good and sad so)
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I think if Grace and Watney were to body swap they would love it for about three days. Watney gets a break from ABBA buddy! Grace gets to eat a potato! But Watney doesn't really want to exchange starving on one alien planet for another long term - he wants to go home dangit - and Grace would have even less patience with NASA telling him what to do and anyway has a good thing going on Erid - but it might briefly be a fun change of pace for both of them. Also a deeply disorienting change of gravity!
Grace is like where is my murderer good buddy Eva Stratt?? And NASA has to dig up some little known administrator in the European Space Agency, who has definitely been helpful in the rescue-Mark plan. But not instrumental. And Grace doesn't recognise her without the weight of the world on her back.
Mark is so excited to listen to different music but you wouldn't believe the esoteric crap Rocky got into.
A Superman short story by Scott Kurtz and Karl Kerschl (September 2, 2021)
In 2013, Scott Kurtz tweeted randomly that he had written a short Superman story. He asked if anyone wanted to take a crack at illustrating it. I said yes. Scott sent me his short script and it was great. It captured the simplicity and positivity that I always long for in a Superman story, and it was only five pages long! I started drawing it in my spare time and finally got around to finishing it eight years later. ~ Karl Kerschl