#basil wright

8oat 8oys Text Posts 8: 8onus 8dition!! With a few additions from our comment section so far that happened to be formatted in a particularly illustratable way, lol.

A Song of Ceylon (1985)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Director: Laleen Jayamanne

Cinematographer: Gabrielle Finnane

&

The Song of Ceylon (1934)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Who would win in a fight: if paint marker Assassins, probably Mitch bc he's stronger and faster than Basil and very sneaky besides. any other kind of physical fight would never happen bc Mitch has been trained extensively in mediation and nonviolence is a Good Boy.

Who would be a better roommate: 100% Mitch. he's neat and tidy and he'll occasionally offer to do your laundry along with his in exchange for a bag of chips or something.

Who’s better in bed: probably Basil! he pays very close attention to what you like and then does it a lot. Mitch does his best, which is good but not extraordinary.

Who I’d pick to be my presidential running mate: ....hmmm. on the one hand, Basil is a legitimate genius, which seems like it'd be useful, but... maybe more so behind the scenes. meanwhile Mitch has a heart of gold, high ideals and a certain level of charisma! once he learns when to not make jokes (ie on live TV) I think he'd do... well, better than Basil, anyway. XD

Whose shoulder I’d cry on: Basil is a dear boy, but he's an awkward nerd. Mitch on the other hand is Security, with trained people skills that include offering comfort! I think he'd be pretty good at patting your back and holding you while making sympathetic, soothing noises.

Who would make a better parent: probably Mitch again! he'd make a great dad in a decade or so.

Aw hell yeah, I'm so glad you liked it! And also: actually yes! Some of them are tiny and some of the songs repeat, but I do have a few unlisted youtube playlists I've picked at over the years haha

[Rich][Thena][Basil][Liam]

Under the cut b/c lyric-quoting is long, some special mentions to:

Night Mail (1936) Harry Watt & Basil Wright

Song of Ceylon

Night Mail

This is the night mail crossing the Border, Bringing the cheque and the postal order,

Letters for the rich, letters for the poor, The shop at the corner, the girl next door.

Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb: The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.

Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,

Snorting noisily as she passes Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.

Birds turn their heads as she approaches, Stare from bushes at her blank-faced coaches.

Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course; They slumber on with paws across.

In the farm she passes no one wakes, But a jug in a bedroom gently shakes.

Dawn freshens, Her climb is done. Down towards Glasgow she descends, Towards the steam tugs yelping down a glade of cranes Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen. All Scotland waits for her: In dark glens, beside pale-green lochs Men long for news.

Letters of thanks, letters from banks, Letters of joy from girl and boy, Receipted bills and invitations To inspect new stock or to visit relations, And applications for situations, And timid lovers’ declarations, And gossip, gossip from all the nations, News circumstantial, news financial, Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in, Letters with faces scrawled on the margin, Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts, Letters to Scotland from the South of France, Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands Written on paper of every hue, The pink, the violet, the white and the blue, The chatty, the catty, the boring, the adoring, The cold and official and the heart’s outpouring, Clever, stupid, short and long, The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong.

Thousands are still asleep, Dreaming of terrifying monsters Or of friendly tea beside the band in Cranston’s or Crawford’s:

BOA7 BOYS LUCKY NUMBER 7, aka the one where I get to finally post some of the many Rafael drawings I've been sitting on for years