Author: Cooper Brumfield

So for this week’s blog, I was racking my brain trying to think of what I wanted to talk about. And while it first it was stressing me out a little bit, not just because of the fact that I couldn’t think of what I wanted to talk about, but because I had an entire christmas break to think and I was still coming up blank. However when I had that thought, the words Christmas break popped up into my head, so suddenly I found myself trying to recall the whole break to find something notable and blog worthy. And while I was thinking about that I also began to think of old topics for blogs that I had previously spoken about, and that of course brought me to one of my favorite blogs, which was my first blog. In this specific blog I spoke about the rise and the establishment of A24 production studios, however one thing I did not really get the chance to speak on, and what I had hoped to speak on in another blog. Is some of the movies from that studio. This movie is a new dramatic release that came out in December of 2023 titled, The Iron Claw.

And while I think that this is not just an incredible film, but an incredible piece of art, I think that my description would not do it the true justice that it deserves. Another factor that contributes to my decision of not giving too detailed of a description is that I do not want to spoil too much of the movie itself, so I have chosen instead to speak on the underlying messages it provides, while also giving a vague description along the way. The Iron Claw is a drama based on the true story of the prowrestling family, the von erichs. And goes through their life, capturing every agonizing, triumphant, and every other moment in between. This, personally, is what I would call the greatest sports movie of all time, maybe it is because I am a pretentious art student and this movie really isn’t even about sports, more the psychological effects of family trauma, masculinity, and death, I would say that  wrestling still plays a very large part in the movie. In conclusion, I would say that if you’re in the mood for something different, something that on the outside might seem like just a testosterone filled fever dream of a film, but proves to be much more, then I would highly recommend this movie.

ALSO- I am thinking I am either going to be touching on the film Saltburn for my next blog post, or the movie dream scenario, both movies coming out in 2023 that I found very interesting, if you would like to see one more than the other then please, I beg, tell me what you want to read about.

So for this week’s blog I was struggling with a topic that I had felt passionate about for a while, and while I have a few things in the works I think that I will most likely save them for future dates, so for today I decided I wanted to sample a bit of my novel and if you don’t mind I would love feedback on my introduction on anyone willing to give it. Thanks!!! :)))

“So, what does it mean.”

Jude hated this question. “What does it mean,” as if his words would give light to the beauties within the elaborate winding halls of Washington DC’s National Gallery of Art. It was as if the reflection of the large marble pillars across the museum had reflected poorly into the eyes of these tourists and left them unable to think straight. “What does it mean?” Jude scoffed under his breath as he walked past Abir, his coworker giving a tour. Jude had never been one to have a high tolerance for people who asked arbitrary questions like that, at least when it came to art. Maybe it was because he was pretentious, or maybe it was because of those late nights where he would wake up and go to the bathroom and look at himself, looking for something. He was looking for a part of himself that he could not find, not because he lost it or he was lacking that specific attribute, it was because it was here in this museum. In the paintings, in the slick, washed, hardwood floors, in the white collared shirt, black suit, and golden name tag that he was required to wear everyday when he came into work. Every time he walked among the art he knew that he had felt more complete than he had in his entire life, and some people had the audacity to ask what it meant.

As 5pm finally struck and the nightly Janitors came in, Jude, finally grabbing his long wool overcoat and taking his black earmuffs out of his bag, began to traverse down the concrete stairs in the front of the building. 59 steps. There were 59 steps going down the museum staircase, and Jude lightly rested his polished black loafers on every single one. A routine that he had picked up a few months ago. This wasn’t the extent of the small details that he had discovered about the museum in the four years that he had worked there however. The number of benches on every floor, the steps it took to get from one exhibit to another, these details kept Jude’s mind occupied during the times that he found the museum barren and all the tasks that he had been assigned completed. 

The path back home was long, not because he had to walk two blocks to the subway station and take two trains, but because he had left his copy of the Piquit Papers next to his bedside that morning so the extent of his entertainment on the ride home was now bound to whatever he could hear the people on the subway talking about. He owned a cell phone, however that was only because of his mother, who insisted if he was going to leave Chicago that he was to at least have a mode of communication with her. 

“I don’t know Amy, it’s not like I don’t understand what she’s saying she’s just being too much, ya know?”  The women sitting adjacent to Jude on the train that afternoon said into her cell phone, 

“Exactly, it’s like she’s making me out to be the bad guy.”

Jude always found himself with a lower tolerance of people that he considered loud, while a part of it was because of an annoyance accompanied with a slight headache, another part of it seemed to be a sense of envy. Envy that there were people out there who did not feel bound to the ever strickening confines of their own anxiety. 

“She just keeps doing it and to be honest Amy it’s getting on my nerves”

“Jesus,” Jude thought to himself, turning his headphones on as he connected it to his phone, classical jazz beginning to erupt into his ears.

“God that’s so much better,” Jude said to himself. A blend of brass and piano beginning to drown out the honking of horns, the screeching of the train on the tracks to a halt, the opening of the doors. If it wasn’t for the sudden movement throughout the metro car then Jude would have missed his stop completely. But as he finally found himself stepping upon the platform and the cold  November air of DC entrapping the exposed skin on his face. 

So for this week’s blog there were a couple things that I wanted to talk about. Trying to think of just one had always been something that had proved difficult for me. I could go a more grounded route and talk about how stressed I am about the ACT, or the easier decision of talking about horror games. But I think I have been focusing so much on things that make me negatively anxious, I would say that it is about time to talk about something that made me anxious in a good way. Horror games, or more specifically, one specific creator of horror games, that being puppet combo. So I’m thinking (or at least hoping) that a few of you know what puppet combo games are, but if not I am going to give a short summary. So puppet combo is an indie horror video game creator/producer who has come out with a number of various games in the past year. However, there is something special about this company that puts them apart from others. That being their modern adaptation to a relatively retro style of graphics.

Examples of the graphics:

These graphics are from only three of the various games that puppet combo has come out with.

The first being from their game “bloodwash” the second from a game called “feed me Billy” and finally from a game titled “Murder House” these aren’t just three random games; however, these are among their most popular and successful games. These graphics that are shown aren’t a result of a poor budget or a lackluster producing/coding team, but an intentional choice on the developers’ behalf. This retro and minimalistic style of graphics are meant to induce feelings of not only nostalgia but feelings of fear as well. But what really makes this game so scary is their incredible sound design and use of volume in the games themselves, having not only just loud noises, but an assortment of different terrifying tracks that have been created by developers. And while this is an indie game developing company, this has seen a large amount if success as well as traction, not just from the general audience, but from other small game developers as well, as a result these smaller companies have created a number of different games, one of my favorite games are actually a part of that category. That being a series called fears to fathom.

Images from different additions to the game:

What makes this game unique is that the stories are not created by writers or developers but found off of old subreddits and chat boards on reddit where the user explains their scary experience and developers reach out to them, wishing to turn it into a game. I think that these types of games are so incredible because it proves that you do not need much to create a horrifying environment, and a good horror game.

So, for this week’s blog I thought that maybe I would just turn it into an establishment of my own psyche so I can try to learn a new concept better on my own. I really wanted to touch on the different strategies that are used to integrate abstract ideas into finite concepts and works. This is not because I feel like I am someone who is at the liberty to explain this in the slightest, but someone that needs to write it for himself. The idea that possibly having it written down might help me to do it better in the future is the only thing keeping me going.

So, I realized that there are numerous ways to achieve this concept the more that I took the time to look into it, however there are only a few ways that stood out to me when I attempted to align them with my own process. First off, I enjoy stating my ideas audibly to see if the idea itself is even a fathomable concept. There have been many instances in which I repeat ideas out to myself and find that I cannot even attempt to put the idea into words, let alone write. I say let alone even though a lot of ideas are easier for me to write than to say out loud. 

The second strategy that I use whenever I am trying to adapt these abstract ideas is to use finite concrete metaphors to compare them to. Like trying to compare these ideas to something that I might be able to better touch or interact with. For example, trying to use the idea of pelting hail to portray the feeling of being overwhelmed or emotionally barraged. However now that I find myself with only two other strategies in which I am no stranger to have emerged. That of course being, writing down concepts and ideas that I have the moment that I have them and hoping to god that they make sense later on, and if I am being honest, I’m lucky if it is a 50/50.Sometimes I wake up with ideas and have to try to climb down from the top bunk of my bed and sketch them down on whatever piece of paper that I can find in my dark dorm at 3 in the morning.  While it is not nearly as efficient or easy as the other two it has been what has worked for me, making sure that I can achieve thoughts that I have within myself is one of my main goals as a writer and I think that that is one of the main aspects of my improvement that I have achieved thus far. 

Just a small disclaimer today I’m logging a part two to a story that I wrote two weeks ago so just keep that in mind.  :)))

“I hate winter, it’s 6pm and we’re going to have to patrol in pitch black night. Driving through this goddamn storm is going to be hard enough.” Otto was known for these rants, surprisingly it did not improve upon the quality of their patrols together. 

“It’ll be fine.” John said.

“Your voice of reason is more aggravating than anything that could come out of my mouth. You know that right?”

It was only when Otto finished his mindless rant did either of them begin to hear the static. It was a sound that both men had become all-too familiar with. It represented not just a call to action but also an escape from bliss for the two EMT’s. It was a sound that seemed to reside in the back of their heads, whether it be when they’re returning home or just starting their patrol. However, there was something different about this transmission. 

“Wh- -co -t, wash-t-” it staggered.

“Repeat that please.” 

“-t code two o- 7th o- Washington-”

“Roger”

The small percentage of the voice that was decipherable was not one that either man was familiar with. It was a low and raspy voice, one that did not align with the voice of their usual dispatch. Otto, begrudgingly walked out of the door with a look of frustration plastered across his face, leaving Jolly’s with his stomach as empty as it was when he entered. John followed behind him, however it was an expression of confusion that was left on his smooth dark complexion.   

The pouring rain hadn’t subsided as they attempted to speed to the ambulance. Water splashing up from puddles up to their waste as they ran. While it was only a code two the feeling of urgency never left the confines of their minds, even in situations not formally categorized as urgent both men felt as if they owed it to themselves to act with urgency. Their ankles trudged through the partially flooded parking lot as they finally climbed into the front seat. If it wasn’t for the underlying feeling of underlying sense of urgency that plagued their mind then it would have been an interesting view to take in, the torrential downpour upon a sea of empty asphalt. However, they could not see very far, for the extent of their vision didn’t expand beyond the light that was emitted from the restaurant’s window. It was an odd sight, their once casual demeanor almost unrecognizable. A once informal and playful relationship now seemed to be nothing but pure, unaltering, professionalism. Only Otto’s shifted expression was able to pull John out of his entranced-like state of focus.

“What? “He finally said.

“I remember that address John. The one on Washington, remember? The abandoned one on the corner. The one that looks like it’s on its last leg.”

“Oh yea, the one that looks like the roof is about to cave in.”John chimed in, remembering the address that more vividly now.

“Maybe it finally did,” Otto said. “I bet some dumb kids just snuck in at the wrong time.”

“It’s fine, Cops will give us a rundown.”

The rain continued to pick up, what was once just a heavy rainstorm had now morphed into anything that either man had ever seen. It was as if water was being manually poured upon the windshield of the ambulance. Otto turned to John, watching his hand grip the steering wheel. The deep gray color of the highway with its faded white lines did not alter, mile after mile they rode. However, there was suddenly, without warning, a drastic shift in the road. Not in the way that it was painted, or the direction that the highway was going, but a thing, this thing standing there, a figure in a downpour of not just rain, but fear.

So, following the ideology of just “Letting ideas come to me,” I started to get nervous about whether or not I was going to have something to write about this week. That was until yesterday when fourth period let out. So, for a bit of pretty crucial context, I think it would help a good bit to give everyone a little update on my life. 

I really wanted to have something in my life that I carried over here when I started here, and for me at least, that was tennis. Throughout my life I never really enjoyed sports. It never really made me feel happy in the same way it did other people, but either way my parents wanted me to play a sport. Therefore, I ended up playing tennis, and I didn’t stop. So now I find myself at MSA with over thirteen years of tennis under my belt. So, I decided that I was going to play tennis for BHS, and the one rule when it comes to that is that I have to be a student there, which I guess is reasonable. However, this meant I was going to have to take a class at, which of course I wasn’t excited about. Though I am still figuring out why. Maybe it is because the trip there takes longer than I’d like, maybe it’s the school, maybe it’s the stares that I get when I am there. But that’s not what I want to talk about, what I want to talk about is a feeling that I forgot about. Walking out yesterday I found myself sitting alone, surrounded by people, unfortunately I mean that in more of the literal sense than the metaphorical sense. And while I was waiting it gave me an odd sense of Deja vu. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I needed to wait for a ride to get home from school, almost 6 months but in that time, it had felt like years, and it also made me think about after that. Think about that after this I won’t ever feel that feeling again, that feeling where I wonder what my mom packed me for lunch or if we actually had a pep rally today. I always hated pep rallies, but the idea of never going to one again is odd. I guess that is how it is for a lot of things, even if you hate something it’s hard to wrap your head around the idea that you might not be able to do it anymore. Maybe, I’m selfish, maybe I wanted the option.

Like most weeks, going through any possible options I might have for my blog I was stuck with not much to talk about. I keep finding that I never have the right things happen to me for this, or I guess “bloggable” things. Everything that has been happening with me lately has either been too personal to blog about, or not interesting enough. I can never find that good balance between the two, it can feel like such a chore sometimes so for this week I decided to share a small excerpt from a project that I am working on.

Grease plagued the nostrils of the two EMT workers when they entered Jolly’s that evening. It was a staple of Bennings, one of the only fast food places that they had. Having a minute population of just over four-thousand people, Bennings was invisible in the eyes of big corporations, and they were aware of it. 

“Alright sir that will be $11.94,” the teenage cashier stammered, attempting to speak in a chipper tone. 

“Bullshit $11.94, it was $7.50 when I came into this dump last week.” the EMT sputtered.

“Sir, with all due respect I am seventeen years old. I barely have any control in my own job, let alone what your two burgers cost you. You can take it or leave it, I really couldn’t care less.”

“You-” the EMT swiftly being interrupted by his coworker.

“We don’t have time for this Otto”

“John I swear to god if you don’t-”

“I’ll pay,” John said, pulling out a crumpled twenty dollar bill from his jacket pocket.This wasn’t the first time that John had to stop one of Otto’s confrontations from progressing. However John with a towering stature of 6 ‘3 and wide muscular build it wouldn’t have been a very grueling task to break up and situation that might’ve progressed.  

“Would you like to sign up for our awards program, or round up to help contribute to Saint Patricks Children’s Hospita-” He was interrupted by a now apparent scowl that sat on Otto’s face. The wrinkles on his forehead speaking words louder than anything that left the confines of his lips.

The ringing of the cash register echoed throughout the empty establishment, Jolly’s was what John would categorize as a “graveyard restaurant.” An establishment littered with black and white photos of Jolly’s from decades prior as an attempt to hold on to its former glory. Now just a shell of itself.  

If it wasn’t for the constant humming of rain upon the tin roof the restaurant would have been plagued with silence. “Hey Joe can I get two number fives ple-.” The cashier, interrupted with a sudden boom of thunder, fell back. It was as if the thunder had cascaded down from the clouds and behind the counter. It was an odd type of thunder, it wasn’t the kind of thunder that one would hear at the start of a storm, but the kind that one might hear at its climax. 

“Anything new and exciting going on?” John asked casually as he began to flip through his phone. Its small black stature sitting insignificantly within the confines of John’s large palm. However all that this statement was met with was a dismissive chuckle on Otto’s behalf.

The storm continued to roar outside as both men awkwardly scooted into the red and white synthetic leather booth. Jolly’s windows began to vibrate, water cascading down its unwashed exterior, the clouds that were once a light gray now became to stain a deep ashen gray. The sun had begun its descent as they waited impatiently for their food to arrive. 

So for this week for once I have something to write about. For the last couple of blogs that I have written about I think I have either written about something that resonates with me or something like a show or book that I have been really interested in. But today I want to talk about wish. Now you, like most, might be asking, “who is wish?” I was walking to go out to dinner with a group last night and that is when we saw her. She was walking across the street, small, clean, unaware of any cars that might drive past. But it was only when I signaled her to come over to me and she ran up to me and climbed into my arms did I know that she was different. For years I had never felt compassion for animals like I did for wish, however it wasn’t me who first really got attached to her,my girlfriend danni, walking beside me, took the kitten from me and played with her as we walked, holding her in her arms. Eventually I knew that I had to be the voice of reason, telling her that we needed to go. So we put her down and continued walking, my girlfriend stopping on multiple occasions to cradle the kitten that was walking at our feet. Finally we said our goodbyes and went into the restaurant, but as we got our food my girlfriend’s growing worry the kitten got the better of her. And as her and I left our friends at the table to go check on a kitten that I knew wasn’t going to be there. But as we opened the door we saw her, sitting there, chewing on rocks and dead beatles that she saw on the ground. But since we weren’t allowed to be out past nine we told our friends to go ahead while Danni and I scraped together the food we had and left it for her. As we crossed the train tracks past Georgia blues she grabbed my hand, “she’s not going to be safe here, can we please take her back?” All hesitation that I once had suddenly washed away and without thinking I crossed back over the street and scooped wish into my arms. The walk back was peaceful, looking up at the stars as wish began to fall asleep. And finally as we arrived back we played with a now rested kitten. A little ball of energy attempting to take in her new surroundings. It had been a long time since I had felt something like that before, the type of compassion that I felt for that cat. And after some convincing we managed to get a staff member to get in contact with a friend who she knew took care of cats before sending them to the shelter. So with a heavy heart about an hour later we handed off wish, knowing that not only us, but her had to keep going on. But walking back to my dorm I wasn’t sad she was gone, I wasn’t exactly happy but something inside of me felt different. Time was passing and in that moment I felt like that small cat, the feeling that something new inside of me was starting the same way her entire life was about to.

When looking through what I wanted to speak about this week I found my mind wandering to things that didn’t seem that significant.

 “I need to do my laundry”

 “I need to follow up on that ACT prep course ” 

“Should I take a nap?”

They’re all questions that I have thought about before, however I always thought it in a different sense, the thought that one day it would be the norm for me, one day I would find myself with these thoughts and not enveloped with the idea that it would one day be my life.

These thoughts that I think of often have become more enveloping in my day-to-day lifestyle. It’s an odd feeling. A calm one, I’ve always found myself trying to focus on the things coming up in my life. Whether it be something that is important that I am nervous for, or something I am really excited for, something that might change the monotony of life, but in the past few weeks it has begun to shift, my perspective that is. I’ve begun to see things more clearly, or at least my need for that feeling has begun to dissipate, the feeling of constantly searching for a new high. Now I find myself beginning to appreciate the more mundane aspects of my day, whether it be getting to read pieces of literature that I enjoy, or the smell of a good meal that is being emitted. 

Taking time to write this is another example of finding the extent of finding emotion in the small things that you do. As I sit and write this there are so many things that are towering over me, anxiety that I once thought would never return yet I find myself focused on the story, focused on the book I am reading, focused on what I am going to get for dinner tonight. 

Now that I find myself stopping a search that I once thought would never end I finally have time to take a breath. A breath that blows away every thought in my mind, wishing, hoping, and knowing that even the most towering of emotions could not destroy me. 

Now as I sit alone writing this I find that I have found company with myself, company with the little things. The mug on my desk, the sound of the AC blaring in my ears as the cool air envelops me. I’ve grown.

So, whenever I’m stuck in a place where I have no idea what I am going to write about I find myself going back to things that I enjoy, or at least pieces of media that I enjoy. Lately I have been doing a lot of schoolwork, so I really haven’t had the time to watch, let alone take in movies or tv shows. But this week was an exception, a new show came out that I need to talk about, and if you’ve read the title then you can see, it is Fionna and Cake. 

For those who do not know Fionna and Cake is a limited time spin off series that is airing on FX, it is a spin off, or some might even say a sequel, of one of Cartoon Network’s most notoriously popular and successful shows, Adventure Time. I remember watching adventure time a lot as a kid, however since it was in cable format as well as the fact my brain hasn’t developed enough to even be able to appreciate the true beauty and intricacy that this show has to offer. It was only when I was about 12 was when I began to really watch, start from the beginning, understand what the story was truly about. The fun part about a small time in this show is that it wasn’t really about anything. For the first two out of ten seasons there really wasn’t an underlying storyline that the show adhered to, it was more of just a lighthearted piece of media that both kids and young adults could enjoy. It provided an enriching setting and set up characteristics of the story as well as specific characters that stood out more than any other cartoon network show.

Throughout this post I’ve tried to make an effort to not include spoilers and keep the actual storyline very vague but the topic that I am about to touch on does include slight spoilers, so just keep that in mind. One final thing that I want to bring to light is the character development throughout all ten seasons of the show as well as the two spins off shows. The pictures I am about to show reflect not just the physical changes that you see throughout the show but the emotional as well.

In conclusion I think that both of these pictures encapsulate what the main underlying theme in this universe of shows are, change. Change, whether it is negative or positive, is going to be a prevalent part of all of our lives. And I think bringing it to light in the eyes of children is one of the most important things that this show can offer.