The players will not be allowed to move until the ball hits the ground or an opposing player

Revised down to -6.9%

It’s the new season of “The Apprentice‚” only this time Donald Trump isn’t looking for the next business whiz‚ he’s in the market for a running mate. He has his eyes on several possibilities close to home — his original and adopted home states of New York and Florida‚ that is. Lee Zeldin‚ the former […]

Hypothetical: You have $640 million you want to give away‚ but you want to give it away to many different groups. How do you find the groups? How do you process value judgments between charities and non-profit organizations and decide who to uplift and who to ignore? That’s a situation billionaire philanthropist McKenzie Scott has […] The post McKenzie Scott Has Now Given Away $16.5 Billion–with New Grants Announced–Since Divorcing Amazon’s Jeff Bezos appeared first on Good News Network.

Rereads and Rewatches The Wheel of Time Reading The Wheel of Time: Tuon Arrives and Mat Tries to Escape in Winter’s Heart (Part 12) This week’s Wheel of Time reading features the Daughter of the Nine Moons‚ Tuon Athaem Kore Paendrag herself… By Sylas K Barrett | Published on March 26‚ 2024 icon-comment 0 Share New Share Twitter Facebook Pinterest RSS Feed This week in Reading The Wheel of Time‚ the Return begins‚ and the name of a person we know but have never met joins our tale. Also‚ Mat plots his escape from Ebou Dar and ponders the invention of a new weapon. It’s Chapters 14 and 15 of Winter’s Heart.Hundreds of Seanchan ships sail over the sea. The Corenne‚ the Return‚ has begun. On the lead ship‚ a woman named Tuon sits having her head shaved by her dresser‚ Selucia. When Tuon was a baby‚ Selucia’s mother gave her to Tuon as a gift‚ to be her nursemaid and her shadow‚ a secret bodyguard. When Tuon turned sixteen‚ she gave the traditional gifts to Selucia to thank her for the work‚ which included Selucia choosing her next appointment. But she chose to be Tuon’s dresser‚ and to remain her secret shadow. Tuon is troubled because the night before she gave an order in anger. To balance herself‚ she chooses to wear a veil rather than the gold lace cap which would expose her shaved head and “mark her with the Raven-and-Roses.” She is uncomfortable asking her Soe’feia‚ Anath‚ to administer a penance because she still doesn’t know the woman very well. In the second cabin she greets six of her sul’dam with their damane. One damane‚ Lidya‚ was the cause of Tuon’s anger the night before—she commanded the damane to read her fortune‚ then had her beaten when she did not like what she heard. Now she praises Lidya as being a good damane‚ and orders her wounds tended. Tuon checks in with all the other damane as well and gives orders to the sul’dam—she believes that no one should own damane without taking an active role with them. She has even been able to train Mylen‚ a damane who was once Aes Sedai and who refused to eat or drink and nearly died‚ before Tuon purchased and trained her. Some of the five hundred Death Watch guards are stationed in the outer cabin‚ each one of whom would die to protect her—and will die‚ if she dies. Seeing her veil‚ the captain orders only two to accompany her on deck… … where two dozen Ogier Gardeners in the red-and-green made a line to either side of the doorway‚ great black-tasseled axes upright in front of them and grim eyes watching for any danger even here. They would not die if she did‚ but they also had asked to be in her guard‚ and she would rest her life in any of those huge hands without a qualm. The nobles on deck greet her as an equal when they see her veil. Her secretary Yuril‚ who is secretly also her Hand and commander of her Seekers‚ kneels‚ and “the Macura woman‚” prostrates herself. Tuon doesn’t know why this woman hates Aes Sedai so much‚ but she has given Tuon much valuable information‚ and seems eager to do more. Anath is standing by the railing. When Tuon’s previous Soe’feia died unexpectedly‚ the Empress named Anath as replacement‚ and Tuon is a little afraid of her. Anath is dismissive of the veil‚ pointing out that everyone still knows who she is‚ even if the veil has them pretending otherwise‚ and that Tuon is a fool for thinking that she took on shame for such a little thing as having a damane beaten. She asks what the damane said to enrage Tuon so‚ but Tuon only answers that she will wear the veil until an omen tells her that it is time to stop. Only luck had kept anyone from overhearing Lidya’s cryptic words. Everyone knew that damane could foretell the future‚ and if any of the Blood had heard‚ they would all have been chattering behind their hands about her fate. Tuon listens as Anath continues telling her what a fool she is‚ loudly enough for those nearby to hear. The Captain is clearly horrified‚ but the traditions of Tuon’s family say that a Truthspeaker is always allowed to tell the truth. Still‚ Tuon isn’t comfortable with the idea of taking a penance from Anath—she believes that is taking the easy way out. Tuon steers the conversation to Suroth‚ and then to the Dragon Reborn. The prophecies say that he must kneel to the Crystal Throne before Tar’mon Gaidon‚ or all is lost. Anath warns Tuon not to let the man know how dangerous she is to him until it is too late for him to escape. Tuon listens‚ and looks ahead to where she can see the harbor of Ebou Dar. Behind her veil‚ she was merely the High Lady Tuon‚ of higher rank than many others of the Blood‚ but in her heart‚ always‚ she was Tuon Athaem Kore Paendrag‚ Daughter of the Nine Moons‚ and she had come to reclaim what had been stolen from her ancestor. Mat sits in a wagon with Aludra‚ who he discovered in Ebou Dar when Valan Luca’s traveling show came to the city. Mat is still recovering from the injuries he received when a wall fell on him during the Seanchan attack. Attempting to persuade Aludra to share the secret of fireworks with him‚ he tells her that there isn’t a Guild of Illuminators anymore. When the members at the Tanchico Chapter House refused to let Seanchan soldiers inside‚ there was a battle—and somehow half the compound exploded. Afterwards‚ everyone at the Chapter House who was left alive‚ or who even appeared to be an Illuminator‚ was gathered up and made da’covale. Aludra grieves over other Illuminators’ stubbornness‚ and tells Mat that the Guild lives on in her. She asks Mat what he will do if she does give him the secret to fireworks. Mat suggests that the tubes used to throw nightflowers into the sky could be aimed horizontally against an enemy. Aludra admits that Mat’s idea is a decent one‚ but she has already been thinking about the subject and tells Mat that‚ if he can tell her what she wants a bellfounder for‚ she will tell him all her secrets‚ including the ones that will make him blush. She sends him away to ponder the question for a few days. As Mat is leaving‚ she murmurs something about how she would think of kissing him‚ if he didn’t belong to another. Mat is irked‚ especially because Tylin had taken all his clothes while he was bedridden and recovering. As a result‚ he’s dressed in flashy‚ revealing clothes which include a lot of lace and breeches that he deems far too tight.  All that remained of his own were his hat and the black silk scarf tied around his neck. And the silvery foxhead medallion‚ of course‚ hanging on a leather cord under his shirt. And his knives; he really would have felt lost without those. He leaves the wagon‚ puzzling over Aludra’s question and wondering if Tylin has changed him into the sort of man women chase. Outside he considers the picket line‚ and wonders if he should have Vanin steal some of Luca’s horses‚ but Mat isn’t recovered enough yet to ride very far. When Mat thinks about Rand or Perrin‚ faint colors swirl in his head. He wishes it would stop. He wishes he could get away from Ebou Dar‚ and from Tylin‚ and take the secret of fireworks with him. He goes to extract Olver from a group of women he is intently flirting with. He lectures the boy that women want quiet‚ well-mannered men‚ but Olver looks incredulous. Mat finds Thom and Beslan‚ and Thom reports that Luca has agreed to let them leave Ebou Dar with the traveling show‚ for a very high price. Unfortunately‚ however‚ he does not intend to leave until spring at the earliest. Beslan remarks that his mother will not be happy with him if she learns that he is helping “her pretty” to leave Ebou Dar.  As they prepare to return to the Palace‚ Mat groans. The dice have just started tumbling in his head. I almost forgot about Mat’s future wife—I haven’t thought about her since he stopped asking people if they’d ever heard of the Daughter of the Nine Moons. In his defense‚ and mine‚ he’s been a little bit busy with other things lately. I do have a vague memory of a Seanchan spy recognizing the title when Mat asked about it around some gaming table or other. I can’t remember when exactly that was‚ but of course the greater clue as to her identity was in The Fires of Heaven‚ when Elayne and Nynaeve were traveling with Valan Luca’s show and met Cerandin. It was then that they‚ and we the reader‚ learned that the Seanchan Empresses’ Court is called the Court of the Nine Moons—which pretty much told us exactly who the Daughter of the Nine Moons must be. As far as ta’veren powers and the needs of the Pattern goes‚ it makes a lot of sense that Mat should end up married to the Empress’s Daughter‚ a woman who one day will herself be the Empress of Seanchan. Though the Seanchan are enemies to all of the other lands‚ and especially to channelers‚ they are not a nation of Darkfriends‚ and they do intend to fight in the Last Battle. Their prophecies say that the Dragon will kneel to the Empress‚ of course‚ which I doubt will happen‚ but Rand is going to have to find a way to bring them under his control‚ or at least into some kind of alliance‚ if everyone on the side of the Light is going to go into the Last Battle united. He has already suffered incredible losses in battle with the Seanchan‚ and having to fight even more into submission would be a costly loss of time‚ lives‚ and resources‚ even if he could manage to win an outright war against them. On the other hand‚ tying their princess to one of his best friends would be a sound political move for Rand‚ and Mat is a significant ta’veren as well‚ which might also help steer things in the way Rand/the Pattern needs them to go. While very little happens in chapter 14‚ we do learn more about the culture of the Seanchan‚ some of which is quite interesting. They do seem to be a fairly superstitious culture‚ and Tuon in particular is very focused on the idea that omens—sightings of animals or occurrences of nature—can be used to guide her course and her decisions. I wonder if this kind of belief will make her accept Mat fairly easily‚ once she meets him and figures out that he is the person Foretold to be her husband. I mean‚ that almost has to be what Lidya’s “fortune telling” was‚ right? The chapter doesn’t give the contents of Lidya’s words‚ but Tuon thinks that the nobles would be gossiping about her fate if they had overheard. This suggests that the fortune Lydia told concerns something significant in Tuon’s future‚ but not related to the fate of the Seanchan or the Return. We also know that Tuon didn’t like what she was told‚ but that she seems fairly resigned the next morning‚ which means that the news probably wasn’t as devastating as‚ for example‚ learning of her impending death. Or that she will never be Empress. Given that we the readers already know a very important piece of Tuon’s future‚ and given Jordan’s love of dramatic irony and of creating parallels between characters‚ I feel confident that I’m right in my guess. But what’s really fascinating‚ if my assumption is correct and Lidya did actually Foretell Tuon’s marriage to some country-boy turned general with magical snake-people memories (okay‚ she probably didn’t word it like that)‚ this raises some very interesting questions about the abilities of the female channelers in Seanchan. Tuon mentions that Lidya’s words were “cryptic‚” which also lines up with how Foretellings go—they usually have to be deciphered and often only make sense in retrospect. But Tuon commanded Lidya to tell her fortune‚ which means that Lidya was able to summon this Foretelling at will. That is not how it works among the Aes Sedai‚ and as far as we know the ability to have a Foretelling has never been voluntary‚ even at the height of this Age’s Aes Sedai strength. The Seanchan kill men born with the spark and imprison women who present with the ability to channel‚ so one would expect that they might also be suffering from a decline in the average power of their female channelers as they have been culling the ability out of their population just as the Aes Sedai have. It is possible‚ however‚ that sul’dam usually end up having families‚ which would mean that more people with the ability to channel are having children in Seanchan than in lands connected to Aes Sedai. We know that Alivia is stronger even than Nynaeve‚ despite having been born around four hundred years ago‚ which may suggests that there are a greater number of very powerful women among the damane than there are among the Aes Sedai. However‚ it’s also possible that Alivia’s strength might be exceptional among damane‚ and there may have been more Aes Sedai born four hundred years ago who could match her‚ all of whom would be dead now because the Oath Rod shortened their lifespan. Additionally‚ the concept that the number of channelers is declining because of genetic lines being cut is only a theory among the Aes Sedai‚ and we don’t really know how‚ or even if‚ genetics are important to the birth of new channelers. So all this is really just speculation‚ though if genetics were significant in the birth of new channelers‚ that might pose an interesting problem for the Seanchan. If a lot of sul’dam were having children‚ their children might have a higher likelihood of being born with the spark. It’s an interesting thought‚ if purely theoretical. Tuon also has the ability to be a sul’dam‚ which means she has the ability to learn to channel. How ironic for Mat‚ the man with the anti-saidar medallion‚ that he is going to end up married to a channeler of saidar. Or at least a potential channeler. The truth about sul’dam is bound to become common knowledge eventually‚ but Seanchan culture might be too inflexible to adapt to this information quickly‚ or well. It may take more than a generation for those with the ability to be sul’dam to accept the idea of becoming channelers in their own right‚ even after society has generally accepted that such a thing is possible. The ownership of damane is‚ of course‚ abhorrent‚ but if we examine the culture from the inside‚ Tuon’s perspective on it is interesting. She is high-born and powerful‚ a person who has beaten out many siblings in order to be her mother’s heir; she clearly must be capable of great strength and ruthlessness when the situation calls for it. And yes‚ she believes in her right to own people‚ as most of the Seanchan do‚ but she also believes in the responsibility that comes with that ownership‚ that comes with the power she has over others. This balancing point of rights and responsibility seems to be the linchpin of Seanchan society. They are very hierarchically ordered‚ and yet there is room for great mobility‚ both upwards and downwards. The highest-born may find themselves made da’covale if they make a mistake or are taken out by a political opponent and it seems no one (save perhaps the Empress herself?) is immune to such a fall. Someone low-born can be raised in status and even made one of the Blood‚ through impressive performance of their duties and service to their leaders. Or the occasional blackmail‚ as we saw with Alwhin. And excluding damane‚ who are not viewed as people‚ even slaves can be set free or raised to a high position‚ and some slaves may even be more powerful and respected than many free people. You can understand how many Seanchan might believe that their society is both just and moral. It requires accepting certain truths‚ about channelers but also about concepts of failure‚ and what constitutes failure. If you believe these things‚ however‚ the clear rules and order of society might indeed feel very fair‚ as well as useful in guiding your own actions. I can even see how the rigid structure of their society might appeal to the Ogier‚ who often find humans much too flighty and changeable. We learned earlier in the series that the Ogier Gardeners are owned by the Empress herself‚ and that this arrangement is different and separate from the way ownership works in Seanchan. I’ve been eagerly awaiting more information about this arrangement since it was first mentioned‚ but I was surprised to learn that the Ogier Gardeners seem to be serving primarily as soldiers‚ very similarly to the Death Watch guards. The Ogier societies we have encountered so far are peace-loving and quiet‚ very reserved people who keep to themselves‚ though they still do stonemason work in the cities and have a relationship with the Aiel. We know they can be powerful warriors when roused to it‚ as we have seen with Loial‚ but there is something very different going on with the Seanchan Ogier. It’s one thing for a being who primarily loves nature and peace to take up arms to defend his friends and fight against the growing Shadow‚ and quite another to be a martial force in service to—and owned by—an Empress. To be so dedicated to her daughter that they would accompany her on a mission to reclaim—i.e. conquer—another land. The narration even states that these Ogier asked‚ specifically‚ to be part of Tuon’s guard‚ and are so loyal to her that she trusts them with her life. That’s no small amount of loyalty and dedication‚ making me very curious how this relationship came to be. It seems unlikely that any Ogier sailed with Luthair Paendrag‚ given the Longing would have made that a very dangerous trip. So there must have been Ogier and steddings in the lands Luthair and his followers settled on and conquered. These Ogier might have been very different than their counterparts on the other continent‚ just as the “Aes Sedai” in Seanchan were very different. I’m not sure what I find more off-putting‚ Olver the baby horndog or the fact that Jordan has given us yet another powerful woman described as being petite‚ big-eyed‚ and with a childlike sort of beauty‚ who will end up romantically entangled with one of the main men. Sir‚ your kink is showing‚ and Tuon’s distress over not having a more commanding presence doesn’t really do anything to distract from the fact. I am glad Mat is doing okay. I mean‚ he’s not doing great but the Seanchan arrival in Ebou Dar hasn’t actually made things worse for him. Tylin had already made him basically her sex prisoner‚ which is gross but at least it’s not a new grossness. And I really like Aludra and her friendship with him‚ so I’m excited to see her back—as long as that relationship doesn’t get weird and sexual‚ anyway. She’s a very interesting person‚ and I know she got kicked out of the Illuminator’s Guild because Rand blew up some of the fireworks‚ but it seems like there’s more in her background that might come up later. Based on the comment about the bellfounder‚ I’d say she and Mat are on their way to inventing cannons. Mat is already thinking about how to shoot people with fireworks‚ and a person who casts bells in (I assume) iron or bronze would probably be able to make cannons. Such a weapon would be very useful against the Seanchan‚ and would deliver a destructive power that could‚ potentially‚ rival some of what the damane can do.  It will be interesting to see if Mat and Tuon meet up soon‚ or if they are going to be ships in the night as she arrives in‚ and he escapes from‚ Ebou Dar. Ironically he’s just wondering if Tylin has turned him into the sort of man that women like to chase just as the woman he is destined to marry is sailing towards him. It took me a moment to remember who the heck “the Macura woman” was‚ but I got there in the end. I guess Ronde hates Aes Sedai now because of what Nynaeve and Elayne did to her. Probably Elaida punished her as well‚ when she found out that Ronde had had the two in her grasp and lost them again. That’s very much her move‚ harshly punishing failure to the point where her attempt to enforce loyalty results instead in resentment‚ mistrust and even—as in this instance—betrayal. Ronde Macura on the side of the Seanchan is an alarming prospect. As a former member of the Yellow eyes-and-ears network she probably has useful information on the Aes Sedai‚ but more importantly‚ she can tell the Seanchan about forkroot. This knowledge could be very dangerous to any channelers that the Seanchan encounter‚ whether Aes Sedai‚ or Kin‚ or wilder‚ and could make them easier to catch and collar. It’s not a pleasant thought. We’ll be sticking with Mat for the next two weeks as we continue on with Chapters 16 and 17. I haven’t read them yet‚ but I can guess that there will be hijinx and urban guerilla warfare against the Seanchan. And‚ possibly‚ a daring escape. I’m rooting for him‚ anyway‚ and the sooner he is out of Tylin’s sphere of influence‚ the better. I am amused at the idea that there might be folks using Luca’s traveling show for cover again‚ though. And curious about why Luca doesn’t seem to like Mat at all. A soaring albatross seemed to be following the Kidron‚ an omen of victory indeed‚ though the bird’s long wings were black instead of white. It must still mean the same thing. Omens did not change according to location. Or… did they? [end-mark] The post Reading The Wheel of Time: Tuon Arrives and Mat Tries to Escape in <;i>;Winter’s Heart<;/i>; (Part 12) appeared first on Reactor.

Featured Essays Metropolis Black Futuras: How Three Pop Divas Adapted the Image of Metropolis’ Maschinenmensch  Almost a century after her first appearance‚ Futura has continually been resurrected and reimagined as a performing persona for pop artists–and used to tell very different stories… By Kristen Patterson | Published on March 26‚ 2024 icon-comment 0 Share New Share Twitter Facebook Pinterest RSS Feed Over the summer of 2023‚ in stadia across Europe and North America‚ and projected in colossal scale on LED screen backdrops 15 meters high‚ two panels extending on either side of a central‚ circular portal‚ a woman in an electrode-adorned crown of chrome taps on the fourth wall. The membrane of light does not long divide her from her audience. The central aperture opens‚ and a contraption slides Beyoncé toward the crowd. The voice of Kevin Jz Prodigy announces‚ “EVERYONE‚ welcome to mother’s mind.” Then asks‚ “Are you ready to serve?” So‚ this will only be about the five-thousandth piece to note that the set and costume design accompanying Mother’s Grand Entrancé on her Renaissance tour pays homage to Fritz Lang’s 1927 science fiction classic‚ Metropolis. Specifically‚ Beyoncé adopts the iconography of the Maschinenmensch‚ the artificial robot woman who is central to the film’s plot—though is not‚ as I have seen misstated elsewhere‚ the film’s protagonist. I swear I’m not just nitpicking; this will be important. The robot‚ named “Futura” in the novelization by Thea von Harbou (who also wrote Metropolis’ script alongside Lang)‚ is a tool of exploitation. Conceived of by evil inventor Rotwang (Rudolph Klein-Rogge) as a replacement for the already exploited workers of the fictional city‚ she is ultimately utilized by the chief capitalist‚ Joh Fredersen (Alfred Abel)‚ to supplant the workers’ spiritual leader‚ Maria (Brigitte Helm)‚ by stealing her identity. In the film’s most famous scene‚ Rotwang and Fredersen give a sort of proof of concept for their plot by having Futura-qua-Maria perform a seductive dance in the ritzy Yoshiwara club‚ where her sexy gyrations drive the assembled men into fits of drooling madness.   Knowing this‚ purists and pedants alike (and I self-identify as both) might be tempted to smugly titter at performers who adopt Futura’s image‚ visually aligning themselves with a character who is a tool of devious corporate overlords looking to undermine critical thinking. She is literally an industry plant. But symbols are rarely static‚ and in the intervening near-century since the premier of Lang’s film‚ the popular perception of the figure of the robot in general and of Lang’s Maschinenmensch in particular has shifted—in no small part because of artists like Beyoncé whose adaptations don’t merely invite us in on a fun reference but ask us to see it from a different perspective. The available references to Metropolis and Futura are numerous‚ even if we restrict ourselves to the realm of music. To give just the latest update‚ Zendaya recently graced the Dune: Part Two world premiere’s red carpet in London wearing a vintage bodysuit designed by couturier Thierry Mugler to reference Lang’s famous Maschinenmensch. In fact‚ Zendaya’s fashion choice provides us with a handy demonstration of how Futura has managed to recur as an influential icon across the decades: designed by artist Walter Schulze-Mittendorff in 1927‚ referenced by the fashion designer Mugler in 1995‚ and resurrected by the actress Zendaya here in 2024. For today‚ though‚ we will focus on just three key Futura references from three recording artists: Whitney Houston‚ Janelle Monáe‚ and Beyoncé‚ all of whose extended adoptions of Futura as a performing persona comment on the performer’s relationship to their audience‚ exploring the robot not in her capacity as a villain but rather as a locus of attention. Metropolis demonstrates the power Futura has on other people; the pop star‚ crediting Futura with her own interiority‚ questions what effect the gaze of the public has on her. Whitney Houston: Queen of the Night Premiering in 1992 and working from a script that writer Lawrence Kasdan had originally written in 1975 (initially pitched as a vehicle for Diana Ross and Steve McQueen)‚ The Bodyguard was the film debut of Whitney Houston‚ arriving on the tails of her third studio album‚ I’m Your Baby Tonight. Even if you aren’t versed in Houston’s discography‚ and probably even if you aren’t from a generation that was beholden to radio‚ you’ve regardless definitely heard “I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)” at least a hundred times. This is all to illustrate (unnecessarily‚ given the fact) that Houston was a huge pop music star‚ and this film arrived when she was very much a reigning voice in popular music‚ and certainly the biggest voice if we go purely by the power of her instrument. So she was a natural choice‚ and reportedly star and producer Kevin Costner’s only choice‚ to play the role of Rachel Marron‚ pop idol and Oscar-nominated actress. The plot of the film revolves around the relationship between Rachel and the titular bodyguard‚ Frank Farmer‚ whom she hires at the urging of her manager after receiving anonymous death threats. Or to borrow the phrasing from Costner in the making-of documentary‚ “he [Frank] has this huge problem of protecting this chick that’s being an absolute bitch to him.” By the way‚ this film is a romance; they fall in love. The gender politics of this movie‚ and indeed of the entire ’90s‚ have not aged great. Kasdan and Costner‚ the two dominant creative voices‚ were very taken with the figure of the Kurosawa samurai‚ this warrior utterly unafraid of death‚ which they translate into the character of the bodyguard for hire. It’s an influence the film subtly nods to by having Frank take Rachel on a date to see a screening of the film Yojimbo‚the title of which translates literally to “bodyguard.” Then they repair to Frank’s house‚ where he shows her the samurai sword he has hanging up in his otherwise barren-ass basement. THEN Frank demonstrates that he apparently keeps this for-display katana fastidiously sharp by using it to cut Rachel’s scarf—which looked like it was a nice scarf‚ and he does not ask permission first. But whatever. She’s into it. They hook up. Then‚ on the very next day‚ immediately after rolling out of bed‚ he breaks things off with her. That’s not part of the samurai reference‚ it’s just the final incredible detail in an incredible sequence of events. This movie is terrible. I love it. But apart from the Kurosawa references‚ The Bodyguard features one other major cinematic allusion—specifically to our subject‚ Lang’s Metropolis. Occurring around the end of the first act‚ the “Queen of the Night” sequence serves as the first major test of Frank and Rachel’s working relationship. It is the first public event at which he must protect her‚ the premiere of her new music video at a nightclub‚ and also the first occasion where she becomes aware of the threats against her life‚ reframing for her character all of the rabid attention she is receiving. Despite the threats and Frank’s objections‚ Rachel chooses to go forward with the performance. Shots of Rachel‚ costumed in metallic chest- and head-pieces that evoke Futura‚ dancing and singing on stage are intercut with clips from Futura’s lurid dance in Metropolis projected on the screens behind her. And here the filmmakers have pulled off something really quite clever in not merely citing an apt reference—Rachel‚ like Futura‚ is presented as regularly driving her audience out of their coconuts‚ while she is herself manipulated by an ambitious‚ Rotwang-ish publicist—but in recontextualizing the images they draw on in an interesting way. Even amidst the rapid editing‚ of all the shots recycled from Lang‚ one in particular stands out‚ a collage of the leering eyes of the men from the Yoshiwara club. It’s a shot that in Metropolis emphasizes the hypnotic power of Futura’s dance‚ as the viewers are stripped of the individuality of a complete human face‚ reduced together to a mass of looking. This implication is not gone when the shot is translated into the scene in The Bodyguard‚ but in the context of the pre-established threats against Rachel’s life‚ it takes on an additional layer. The image of the eyes‚ already ominous in Lang’s film‚ suddenly feels more hostile‚ as we are conscious of the fact that someone in this club means this Futura real harm‚ and that lurking danger pollutes the general act of gazing. It’s a change that shifts the audience’s allegiance toward the performer‚ Houston/Rachel/Futura‚ by asking us to sympathize with her precarious position. It is her role to be seen‚ and heard—but by a crowd that might hide malicious actors‚ turn against her‚ or overwhelm her with their attention‚ all three of which‚ after a fashion‚ happen in the scene. This paradigm that adapts Futura into more than a vampy seductress‚ into a woman held hostage by her own popularity and the combined power and resentment that it brings‚ might be a suitable or appealing persona for any famous person‚ but it holds some particular resonances with the career of Whitney Houston‚ whose relationship to her public was fraught even before her much-covered “downfall” in the late ’90s and early 2000s. In his 2022 biography of Houston‚ Didn’t We Almost Have It All‚ music journalist Gerrick Kennedy relates how Houston was from the start of her career dogged by criticism for not being as artistically bold as her contemporaries like Madonna or Janet Jackson‚ lending fuel to the narrative that she was little more than a cypher being programmed for maximum crossover appeal by Arista executive Clive Davis. We may well make a comparison of Houston with Madonna‚ whose 1989 music video for “Express Yourself” also pays homage to Metropolis. Assuming the vampy Futura persona would have seemed a more obvious choice for Madonna‚ whose public image was far more associated with controversial‚ sexually suggestive and explicit gestures. But rather than droid-ing herself up in chrome‚ Madonna strips down and presents herself chained to a bed. It’s the same sort of risqué move that tended to earn her both attention from scandalized audiences and credit from critics. Caryn James‚ dissecting an interview Madonna gave to ABC News in 1990‚ writes how Madonna “made a distinction any honest feminist would respect. ‘I have chained myself‚’ she said. ‘There wasn’t a man that put that chain on me.’” (Bit of a No True Scotsman fallacy there‚ but never mind that now.) Houston’s image‚ meanwhile‚ was tamer‚ less outrageous‚ and for that‚ seemingly less self-assured and self-determined in her choices. Indeed‚ there was speculation that too-wholesome Whitney‚ whose bread and butter was romantic (but not sexy) ballads‚ was repressing or withholding something of her nature. Rumors swirled‚ and then were concretely inked in the press‚ that Whitney was gay and that her friend and executive assistant Robyn Crawford (described in Time magazine’s coverage as “severely handsome”) was secretly her lover. Crawford has since confirmed they did have a relationship‚ though she explains that she and Houston were not actually together concurrently with Whitney’s music career‚ a career that was taking off at the same time that AIDS epidemic was driving a national moral panic around homosexuality. The demand‚ then‚ was for Whitney Houston to embrace greater artistic authenticity by acknowledging a truth for which the public might well have damned her. An additional confounding issue for Whitney‚ not faced by Madonna‚ was her Blackness‚ which created tension between her and Black critics who felt that she had sold out by curating her image and music for a white mainstream audience. Kennedy describes how:   Because Whitney was engineered for pop audiences there was this expectation that she needed to be all things to all people—expectations heightened by the fact that Whitney was a Black woman clamoring for airplay and MTV spins alongside mostly white acts. To be a woman in pop meant exhaustive comparisons to any other woman in the industry‚ defined by what qualities they did or didn’t have. Here was a graceful singer with an extraordinary pedigree making sweet‚ romantic soul music and joyous dance anthems‚ but it was who she wasn’t that became the fascination of critics unconvinced that a Black woman wanted to sing these tunes. Whitney‚ then‚ was maligned as a sort of automaton: unprecedentedly popular‚ and yet more of a creation than a creative. It was almost certainly inadvertent that The Bodyguard’s filmmakers‚ who avoided broaching the subject of race in the film and were more invested in exploring the figure of the bodyguard than the superstar‚ came up with an image as compelling as Whitney-Futura: the star who mesmerized us with her voice‚ her charisma‚ her beauty‚ but whose perceived lack of authenticity we held against her. We wanted her to own her Blackness‚ heedless of what that part of her identity really meant to her‚ and to own her sexuality—or‚ more likely‚ to more convincingly disown her perceived homosexuality. In that context‚ the android persona here feels almost like a defiant embrace of artifice‚ a reversal of the Futura of Metropolis‚ exposing rather than concealing the mechanisms of performance. Part of that exposure throws our own gaze back at us‚ and the sight is distinctly unflattering. There we are‚ an undulating mass groping with our eyes‚ hungry for realness‚ unforgiving of reality. Janelle Monáe: Our Favorite Fugitive‚ Cindi Mayweather‚ Alpha Platinum 9000‚ Electric Lady Number One‚ and the ArchAndroid If you’ve been in Metropolis in the year 2719 and ever happened to tune into 105.5 WRDR‚ then you must have heard about Cindi Mayweather‚ Electric Lady Number One. But residents of 2024 may be more familiar with Janelle Monáe‚ acclaimed recording artist (and actor) whose first three releases‚ one EP and two full albums‚ adapt Fritz Lang’s Metropolis. In this series of concept albums‚ collectively referred to as the “Metropolis saga‚” Cindi is Monáe’s avatar‚ an android from the future—and also a popular songstress of her time—whose robot nature and messianic role parallel and commentate on her 1927 counterpart‚ Futura. The influences Monáe draws on in their own sci-fi sonic worldbuilding are much more extensive than just Lang‚ involving nods to Octavia Butler‚ Lewis Carroll‚ Philip K. Dick‚ Jimmy Hendrix‚ George Clinton‚ Sun Ra‚ David Bowie‚ Marvin Gaye‚ and The Matrix‚ to name just a few. Still‚ Metropolis remains the spine of the narrative‚ with Monáe adapting its themes of oppression‚ its romanticism‚ and its biblical gestures‚ and this time casting the exploited android as the heroine and savoir‚ rather than reserving that role for a scion of the elite like Lang’s protagonist‚ Freder. Monáe’s interpretation is deft in how it retains many of the artifacts of Lang’s original while reimplementing them in more thoughtful‚ critical ways. For instance‚ Cindi (like Futura) is a face-stealer‚ her “organic compounds” having been cloned from—who else—Janelle Monáe (who has been sent back the present from 2719—it’s a whole thing). But the audience is conscious of Cindi’s having no choice in coopting Monáe’s face‚ much as Futura had no choice. Modern viewers of Lang’s film are‚ I suspect‚ likely to note this‚ having been trained as savvy SF readers to empathize with artificial intelligences. But for all that‚ the original Futura remains a vapid and inaccessible character‚ not the self-reflecting sort. Cindi meanwhile bursts onto the stage‚ and into our ears‚ dialectically constructing her sense of self out of the artificial non-identity that society has foisted on her: I’m an alien from outer space‚I’m a cyber-girl without a face‚a heart‚ or a mind (I’m a product of the man).I’m a slave girl without a raceOn the run cuz they’re here to eraseAnd chase out my kind (they’ve come to destroy me).And I think to myselfWait‚ it’s impossible… Oh‚ she’s a thinker for sure. Throughout a text that can in places be quite densely detailed‚ Cindi’s cogitations keep us oriented. If you lose track of what a Wolfmaster is or aren’t sure if it’s important that androids apparently have gray hair‚ you don’t have to worry. So long as you’re still vibing with Cindi’s feelings‚ you’re never really lost. The main feeling that animates the albums is the conflict between Cindi’s desire for personal happiness and her higher calling to fulfill the role of the ArchAndroid‚ the prophesied revolutionary savior to android kind. This tale’s inciting incident‚ detailed in the track “March of the Wolfmasters‚” is the forbidden love affair between Cindi and the human Anthony Greendown: “And you know what that means! She is now scheduled for immediate disassembly!” Here again the plot parallels Metropolis 1927‚ wherein Freder’s love-at-first-sight encounter with Maria prompts his own radicalizing journey. Only the love is more fraught for Cindi‚ incurring violent legal consequences that recall real-world historical anti-miscegenation laws. The taboo nature of the relationship has also received a queer reading from critics and audiences‚ bolstered by scattered lyrics like “Is it weird to like the way she wear her tights?” Cindi and Sir Greendown’s union‚ matter of true love though it may be‚ seems doomed not only by the evil government but by fate‚ as Cindi is drawn into—and isolated by—her role as the ArchAndroid. On the track “57821‚” the refrain “He wonders if she is the one / She wonders if he is the one‚” eventually resolves to “I wonder if I am the one.” The common (monogamous) romantic trope of “the one” that Greendown and Cindi use to refer to one another is superseded by a different trope‚ the chosen one‚ this time with Cindi referring only to herself‚ speculating on her possible destiny as savior. That metaphorical‚ grammatical separation between them becomes literal on the final track of The ArchAndroid album‚ “BaBopByeYa‚” in which Cindi reflects on her and Anthony’s romantic history. Ultimately‚ and fatalistically‚ she feels pulled away to serve the higher calling and greater good: “I see beyond tomorrow / This life of strife and sorrow. / My freedom calls‚ and I must go.” It’s a bittersweet and resigned ending‚ one that then recurs in the sequel album‚ The Electric Lady‚ with the one-two punch of “Can’t Live Without Your Love” followed by “Sally Ride” (“I know you love me‚ but I’m still gone‚” Monáe-as-Cindi chants on the latter). It’s a much stronger and more emotionally resonant conclusion than the one delivered in the 1927 Metropolis‚ where Freder “mediates” away all conflict without instituting any real change to the hierarchies that have troubled the city‚ leading to the maudlin aphorism that “the mediator between the head and hands must be the heart.” Monáe meanwhile does not disavow romantic notions like true love or heroism‚ but she makes honest concessions in acknowledging how movements for change require sacrifice—and how some people will disproportionately bear the burden of that sacrifice. We could go on enumerating the ways that Janelle Monáe adapts Metropolis and Futura‚ how the album art and trailer for The ArchAndroid reference and synthesize the elements from Metropolis’s iconic poster‚ how the “Many Moons” short film expands on the model of Futura’s dance at the Yoshiwara club‚ or how the track “Look Into My Eyes” subverts the stereotype of the hypnotic vamp.1 I’ve focused on Monáe’s depiction of Cindi’s consciousness‚ however‚ for how it parallels our earlier discussion of Whitney Houston in expressing the psychic toll borne by the Black female artist under pressure to dazzle‚ to lead‚ to inspire‚ to represent.  Since the turn of the decade‚ spurred by mainstream re-engagement with the movement for Black civil rights in the wake of the murder of George Floyd by Minneapolis police in May of 2020‚ there has arisen this pernicious narrative in some liberal circles about how Black women will “save us” by diagnosing and reforming societal ills. It’s a narrative—or a plea‚ really—that is often couched in laudatory language but which ultimately punts responsibility for driving broad social change to that one demographic without prioritizing their specific needs. In that context‚ Cindi Mayweather feels timely‚ future femme though she is‚ as a Black heroine who is very much acting in her own self-interest insofar as the community she seeks to liberate are the other androids‚ yet still it’s costly. Monáe came out as non-binary in 2022 and as pansexual in 2018. Their sexuality has been the subject of speculation and scrutiny since their first release‚ with evidence mustered like the predominant queer themes in their work and Monáe’s penchant for tuxedos and other  androgynous style choices. Here again we have to think of Whitney Houston. Yes‚ it’s generally safer to come out now than it was in the 1980s or ’90s‚ but it remains invasive to insist that someone publicly “clarify” their orientation or identity. As obvious or inevitable as it may have seemed that Monáe would come out eventually (and as someone who was listening to The Electric Lady on repeat in 2013‚ I can attest that it felt that way)‚ even if it looked like she was intentionally dropping breadcrumbs to that effect‚ the coverage seems to have worn on her‚ receiving a justifiably snappish callout on “Float‚” the leadoff track to her latest album. In her last two releases‚ Monáe has also distanced herself from the Cindi Mayweather persona‚ first with Dirty Computer and its accompanying film‚ which keeps the rebel android theme but changes the artist’s persona to simply “Jane‚” and then in 2023’s The Age of Pleasure‚ which does away with the futuristic premise altogether. It’s a shift that is‚ probably not accidentally‚ concurrent with the artist’s recentering their own peace (and pleasure) against former aspirations of saviorhood. The topic of the interface between audience and creator‚ though‚ is still very much in play. There’s a shot in the music video for “Lipstick Lover‚” the second single from The Age of Pleasure‚ that stands out: The setting is a paradise pool-party orgy‚ and the camera guides us around the scene of dancing‚ feasting‚ and bare flesh. Exhibitionism seems like the order of the day; then the camera cuts to a group of lovers in a hot tub. As a spotlight passes over them‚ they startle and look up into the lens‚ the eye of the viewer‚ with mixed expressions of surprise and censure. It’s a discomfiting moment that keeps the experience from being wholly voyeuristic. Our presence has not gone unnoticed. Between Cindi’s tribulations and Monáe’s more straightforward recent expressions‚ it’s the second time that a Futura has forced us to catch ourselves looking and made us self-conscious. Inherent in that capacity is the acknowledgement that she has the psychology and personhood to merit that sense of self-consciousness on our part. No longer is Futura the hollow vessel or flat surface onto which we can project our fears‚ lusts‚ and hopes. She has a cyber-soul‚ and you will show her respect. Beyoncé: Renaissance Woman and Alien Superstar I take it I don’t have to explain the Beyoncé phenomenon to anyone? I’ already hesitant about getting into too much detail about Janelle Monáe’s oeuvre‚ which has never quite broken fully into the mainstream but is hardly obscure. If you’re like me—well‚ you were generally aware of Beyoncé as part of Destiny’s Child and then as a solo artist consistently on Top 40 radio‚ but didn’t get especially invested in her output until her excellent eponymous album in 2013. (I did recently go back and listen to all of B’Day for the first time‚ though‚ after reading Daphne Brooks’ analysis of the album‚ and I really enjoyed it.) If my own journey can be said to be representative—and feel free to take that premise with a convivial lump of salt—then the trajectory of the culture’s relationship to Beyoncé has moved from enjoying her as a reliable hit-maker producing solid‚ non-groundbreaking pop to embracing her as an artist worthy of more wholistic treatment and higher regard. The deep cuts became mandatory listening. Take for comparison the Beyoncé of the 2000s and early 2010s next to a more outrageous act like Lady Gaga—in a way‚ the Whitney and Madonna of our time. The former flaunted an awesome melismatic vocal style‚ elevating romantic ballads that could otherwise be too boringly classic‚ while the latter leaned into provocative‚ queer‚ and avant-garde choices. See: Meat dress. But after more than two decades of proven staying power and the watershed release of Lemonade‚ it’s become undeniable that Beyoncé has (always had) keen musical instincts and a real desire to pursue her own artistic fulfillment. And that pursuit has paid off. The only other act in the business that can compare with her now in terms of influence is not Gaga but the younger Taylor Swift. After thriving in the limelight for so long and in course having only been hoisted farther up on the proverbial pedestal‚ accumulating a hive of die-hard fans‚ Beyoncé has more than earned the right to don the chrome crown of Futura. (No justification was necessary‚ but even so.) The Renaissance World Tour isn’t the first time in her career that she has drawn on the imagery of Metropolis and the Maschinenmensch—witness her performance at the 2007 BET Awards‚ when she emerged from a similar contraption to the one used on her tour…and if there’s one thing Beyoncé and Beyoncé fans all really enjoy‚ it’s a Beyoncé deep cut. But this time the Futura reference was more sustained and integrated into the larger thematic project of the Renaissance album and tour‚ with the android persona presenting a clever rhyme with the album’s electronic dance music influences‚ generally adding another layer of entendre to the proceedings—“Are you ready to serve?”—while also being neatly symbolic of the idea of a “renaissance” itself. If a rebirth represents the meeting point of past and future‚ who better to embody its contradictions than retro-futurist robot lady‚ Futura? She’s a throwback‚ she’s the unrealized potential of tomorrow‚ and she is the moment. Surviving the vicissitudes of the public eye for so long seems to have motivated that rebirth ambition for the Bey Hive’s queen‚ who discusses the toll that her career has taken on her body in the Renaissance concert film and paints a portrait of her own ambivalent feelings in her lyrics. Those feelings are alternately directed towards a lover or the singer’s public‚ and indeed those two targets at times become hard to distinguish. She sings on “HEATED” about feeling taken for granted by her man‚ and I can’t help feeling like we as the audience are also being called in for the warning: “Only a real one could tame me; only the radio could play me; oh‚ now you wish I was complacent.” That line about the radio is primarily a pun on the double meaning of the verb “play‚” but it nevertheless raises the specter of the wider listenership. The sense of a more general culpability is only sharpened in the outro‚ as Beyoncé commentates directly on self-scrutiny and emotional whiplash that being a public figure has generated: “Dimples on my hips‚ stretch marks on my tits‚ drinkin’ my water‚ mindin’ my biz; Monday I’m overrated‚ Tuesday on my dick.” To that point‚ the new life that her renaissance aims to usher in is one of greater ease and less self-diminishing perfectionism. At that notion‚ you (like me) might react initially with‚ “Beyoncé? ‘Got a lotta Chanel on me‚’ vacations-at-Cannes Beyoncé? Greater ease?” And yes‚ she obviously benefits from the privileges of wealth. But even if one wanted to argue that this superstar has been more-than-fairly remunerated for her pains or—more trenchantly‚ I think—to pursue a critique of how her art has tended to present her wealth as aspirational‚ it would be dishonest and incurious to write off her account of enduring the strains of criticism that go hand in hand with fame just because she is also affluent. That ambition to cultivate a less exacting relationship to her work cannot be understood outside of the historical context of the American cultural relationship to the Black female pop star. To draw on Gerrick Kennedy once again‚ he traces a direct line from Diana Ross to Whitney Houston to Beyoncé in an emblematic lineage of Black pop divas who were incentivized to present a circumscribed version of their Blackness that would not be too provocative or perhaps too alien to the sensibilities of white audiences. Kennedy assesses: Beyoncé grew tired of stretching herself to appease both sides with her Diana Ross approach to pop stardom. Though she never directly pandered to white audiences‚ her carefully crafted image was similar to that of Whitney’s‚ and her apolitical stance allowed her to become the most famous entertainer on the planet. It wasn’t until she stopped caring about chasing pop charts and airplay on Top 40 radio that Beyoncé began making the most socially ambitious artistic statements of her career. […] She’s one of the most decorated artists of our time and has been making the best music of her career‚ but it’s no coincidence that Beyoncé crosses over far less than she did when she was calling to all the single ladies! Even after Whitney‚ there’s still a price to pay for the freedom of thriving because of your Blackness and not in spite of it. (Kennedy identifies Beyoncé’s 2016 “Formation” Super Bowl performance as a turning point in the public’s perception of the singer’s entanglement with racial politics—and if you need a refresher on that nigh-decade-old controversy‚ refer to Jessica Williams‚ The Daily Show’s “Senior Beyoncé Correspondent‚” for a recap.) But what has all this got to do with the robot lady? It reflects on the theme we’ve been developing—how Futura‚ a character whose original narrative role was to replace laborers and steal identities‚ has in the hands of these artists become a tool for commenting on how identity and persona inflect their relationship to labor. First and not least is the implicit assertion that the act of performance is labor. Why else would someone invent a robot to do it? Not only to take on the physical wear and tear of dancing and singing‚ but to absorb the psychic damage of being in front of an audience too. For Black female performers‚ a part of that ask is to bear the brunt of projected discourses on the ideal or acceptable forms of femininity‚ of Blackness‚ of sexuality and queerness. Lang’s original film concludes with Futura being burned at the stake by a mob that labels her as “a witch!” and chases her down on the steps of a church‚ where her pyre is quickly erected. Some other schmaltzy stuff happens too‚ but that final tableau of Futura burned back down to her original robot form in front of the facade of a Gothic cathedral that is somehow smack in the middle of the futuristic city feels like an unambiguous rejection of divisive‚ newfangled modernity and futurity in favor of tradition. Our contemporary Futuras appear sensitive to the possibility of being rejected in as abrupt and dramatic a fashion. Of course‚ the “mob‚” which is to say us‚ has now gone digital itself. Everything has‚ expanding exponentially the size of the potential audience for any old act‚ and democratizing who might serve as the performer. With that has come also the democratization of Futura’s performance anxiety‚ the fear of being impersonally rejected by a crowd. There are‚ we are all coached to be aware‚ potentially a lot of cameras pointing in your direction at any given moment. Social media encourages you to point one at yourself. So don’t do anything you wouldn’t want millions of people to see—but also remember to be authentic! Looking around‚ I think the pressure is getting to us. “I will always love you‚” Beyoncé declares on the track “MY HOUSE‚” in what simply has to be a reference to Whitney’s most famous cover of that song for The Bodyguard. But rather than following up with the refrain “will always love you‚ will always love you‚” before bidding us bittersweet goodbye‚ Beyoncé adds: “but I will never expect you to love me when you don’t love yourself.” My interpretation is doubtless influenced by my particular hobbyhorse here‚ but I think this‚ in part‚ may be what she is thinking of‚ the way we are encouraged now more than ever to see ourselves through the critical eyes of real or imaginary others. Certainly‚ it comes across that way in the context of the concert documentary. How indeed could we truly enjoy Beyoncé‚ whose public image is so thoroughly mediated‚ when we are growing too media savvy to even give ourselves a break? And in a world where the usual prescription for that stressor is some version of “just be yourself‚” Futura offers an intriguing rebuttal: Be someone else for a while. Raise a barrier of persona between yourself and the more invasive avenues of modern life. Have fun with it; be “Cindi Mayweather‚” android from the year 2719‚ or Queen Bey‚ the woman whose life is just dramatic enough to be interesting without tipping into being “tacky” or uncomfortable. Maybe that’s all true. Who’s to say? Playfulness‚ after all‚ has always animated art‚ and sincerity is perfectly achievable without keeping strictly‚ nakedly autobiographical. If strangers think they need or deserve the catharsis of you sharing your history‚ your intimate cares and secret desires…no they don’t. Be a dancing robot‚ embrace artifice. Use it to give yourself the space to love yourself. Who are you? You’re that girl. You’re an alien from outer space. You’re the queen of the night. Oh yeah…[end-mark] On that last point‚ the work (and so much more) has already been done by professor of music Daphne Brooks in her book Liner Notes for the Revolution‚ pp. 111-123. ︎The post Black Futuras: How Three Pop Divas Adapted the Image of <;i>;Metropolis<;/i>;’ Maschinenmensch  appeared first on Reactor.

If there is a video game franchise that I have close to my heart that’s the Horizon franchise. When I bought my PlayStation 5 after things began to come back to normal after a traumatic period during the pandemic – and its impact on our daily lives – Horizon Zero Dawn was – alongside God of War 2018 – one of the few games in the PlayStation Plus Collection – may it rest in peace – that accompanied through a period of silence‚ shutdowns‚ and end of the world vibes. No wonder it captivated me. After all‚ the game touches on subjects such as AI and its dangers‚ the apocalypse‚ and the worst of human nature which are my favorite themes in movies and media in general. Horizon Forbidden West was one of the first games in a while that I pre-ordered and enjoyed on launch date and it took what made Aloy’s first adventure and expanded it in a way I couldn’t believe was possible. From the story’s stakes to the graphics‚ the animations‚ the characters’ a...

The Illuminator is a passive item in LEGO Fortnite that can be equipped to keep a constant glow around you. It’s a difficult item to know how to create‚ so here is every step to crafting an Illuminator in LEGO Fortnite. All steps to unlock and build Illuminator in LEGO Fortnite Unlike how a Torch requires you to use your off-hand‚ the Illuminator is equipped to you and stays on you. It doesn’t run out and stays on you day and night. It appears as glowing dots above your head which is a nice visual — and you’ll have nice visuals at night since you’ll radiate a constant glow. Screenshot: PC Invasion To craft an Illuminator in LEGO Fortnite‚ you need to go to the Charm section in your Crafting Bench. The crafting requirements for an Illuminator are high‚ but thankfully‚ you only need to craft it once. From there‚ you need the following items: Three Wool Thread Five Purple Thermal Fish Ten Glass Ten Brightcore How to get Wool Thread in...

Like any new game‚ even with tutorials‚ it’s going to take a while to get used to things and learn everything. Let’s go over some tips and tricks for beginners starting Palia‚ the cozy farming sim and MMO. Beginners tips and tricks for Palia Screenshot: PC Invasion Choosing your appearance As soon as you jump into Palia‚ you’re going to be making your character. If you don’t know already‚ you should know that once you leave character creation‚ you won’t be able to change certain things. You won’t be able to change your body‚ face‚ skin tone‚ eyes‚ or voice once inside the game. But luckily‚ there will be ways to change your hair and clothes later on. So make sure you’re okay with how you look besides the changeable features. Screenshot: PC Invasion Swapping and unequipping tools Throughout the introduction of Palia‚ you’ll quickly receive all of your tools. You can access these tools by holding the “R” ke...

If you log into Fortnite today‚ you might be one of the lucky people who gets 950 V-Bucks gifted to them. Thanks‚ Epic Games! But‚ why is this free V-Bucks glitch happening and how do I get in on it? How to get free V-Bucks glitch in Fortnite Today‚ Fortnite players worldwide are reporting that they are getting 950 V-Bucks just from logging in. The servers aren’t down‚ there’s just a glitch that is giving random people free V-Bucks. But is it really random? Though it’s not officially confirmed why this free V-Bucks glitch is happening‚ our current working theory is that the latest update confused the season as being over which automatically refunded the Battle Pass to people who have it. But it gets deeper than that. Myself and one of my colleagues didn’t receive the free 950 V-Bucks upon logging in. However‚ my other colleague did. I don’t own the Battle Pass‚ so I didn’t get the 950 V-Bucks. That makes sense. But my two colleagues both ...