Game of the Month – Fire on Board! Tactics galore in 10 minute rapid game
#8 – In the Spirit of Mikhail Tal
This was a rapid game – 10 minutes for each player – played on chess.com and the first game of Bratya’s to be shared widely and commented upon by high profile players, commentators and YouTube personalities – after Agadmator, the famous Croatian chess YouTuber retweeted it – and the attack with which the game culminates is one that is, indeed, in the spirit of Mikhail Tal; seeing the opponent’s pieces lacking space and access into black’s position, or any target points, an exchange sacrifice followed by a bishop sacrifice rips open the king’s safety and, had the player with the white pieces not resigned, mate would have soon followed. This game would bring a lot of attention to some of Bratya’s other, wilder games which – while not as accurate – are just as brutal and unyielding.
Pilot for ‘Happy Hour’ – Episode 1, Antigone Girl
‘HAPPY HOUR’ is the working title for a television pilot I’m writing for my friend, Vanessa Martini. a very talented and lovely young actress, producer, and activist. Getting the opportunity to work on this project is surreal, and you can check back every couple of days to see how the Pilot episode is developing. Tell Vanessa how excited you are on Twitter @vanessaluvtini, or congratulate me @SrBrandonNobles – or, I don’t know, have a sandwich.
BEGINNING FIRST DRAFT: 18 NOVEMBER 201
THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS!
Episode 1 – Antigone Girl
Dr. VANESSA TILTON
BRANDON K. NOBLES
SCENE 1: THERAPIST’S OFFICE, MID-AFTERNOON, SUNNY DAY.
INT. A WELL LIT DOCTOR’S OFFICE, HOVERING JUST BEHIND AN UNINTELIGIBLE VOICE. WOODEN BOOKSHELVES, FRAMED DEGREES, A POTTED PLANT IN THE CORNERS, STANDING TIFFANY LAMPS, TWO LEATHER RECLINING CHAIRS, AND DR. VANESSA TILTON WAS ON A PROMINENT NAME PLATE.
We see a pair of hands fidgeting with a bottle of wine, just the hands, small and delicate, turning and turning, mumbling a string of inaudible swears. We hear the pop with an audible pop! and DR. VANESSA TILTON poured a large glass of wine for herself, leaned back, and pressed the call-waiting button on the phone in her office. The sound of a ringing phone filled her ear, and she tapped her fingers nervously along her desk, anxious and self-conscious, the audition had went really well — she thought — a woman’s voice answers the phone.
INT: CAMERA FACES OPPOSING WALL, SHOWING WHAT IS ON VANESSA’S DESK: A RESUME AND PORTFOLIO, A GLAMOUR SHOT CLIPPED TO A MANILA ENVELOPE.’
“Sara Corman’s office.”
SARA CORMAN [VANESSA’S AGENT]
“Yes, it’s me. How are you do…”
“Where are you calling from?”
“I’m at work. you know, that thing adults do between 9 and 5? And what the hell was that? ‘Sara Corman’s office’? You don’t get to do that. It’s your office! Only wrestlers and dictators talk in the third person.”
“I just answer like that out of habit, and it isn’t technically a lie. It is Sara Corman’s off–”
“Just tell me what happened! Don’t nibble on the conversation.”
“What do you mean, ‘nibbling’?”
“it’s the part of the conversation that takes place just before and right after the actual conversation. Let’s say, you call your roommate. You want her to feed your cat, that’s the conversation, but you don’t go straight to that. You have to nibble in a situation like that. Ask her about her day, what she’d like for dinner, just nibbling along, and then you go to the actual conversation. We’re still in nibble territory, still. Still…”
“How do you… even think like that?”
“Did I get the part, Sara?”
“I’m afraid not, Vanessa. Antigone has already been cast.”
“What did I do wrong? They told me it was a great audition. If it had been bad, they’d have told me it was good!”
“They said you were too pretty to play a manly character. I think they’re giving it to a realy, really feminine guy.”
[VANESSA LAUGHS MANIACALY]
“You’re out of your mind! Out of your mind! Completely batshit! You’re batshit! Do you know how offensive that is? That’s like apologizing to Jim Caviezel, and not letting him play Jesus in Passion of the Christ because ‘He’s just not gay enough to play Jesus.'”
“You could always play Antigone’s sister, Ismene.”
“You know what? Why stop at ‘too pretty’? Why cast a woman at all? We could have CatwomanMan. Ms. Mr. Marvel. I knew I’d have to do a little prep for this role, but I didn’t know I’d need nuts. Apparently, Antigone is jut too strong a character to be played without nuts. And stop saying “Anti Gone” you asshole! It’s ahn–tih–guh-nee. Antigone. I’ve got an idea, Sara, listen. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll bring in Matt Damon, to explain it all to me.”
“He went to Harvard, you know. Harvard.”
“So did George Dubya.”
“Seriously, pitch this: you’ve got a whole room full of guys, a room packed with nothing but nuts, like a bad plane. And they’re talking it through, talking about the play: ‘And ‘Antigone’s just this like, strong independent babe, like no guy ever steps to that, and she’s like No way bruh, you’re not treating my bro like this. And Creon, he’s the bad guy, so we’ll bring in Andy Garcia, you know, ’cause the Greeks descended from the Italians…’“
“There are other roles, Vanessa.”
VANESSA: “‘It’s like, you know, bruh, the hardest part of the creative process, it was going, Okay, wow, we have such a strong female character here, we’re gonna need a guy to play that role. And we’re thinkin’ Chris Hemsworth, then I’m thinkin’ maybe once Thor saves Polyneices’, and finds him a totally chill place to be dead, we’ll get Demi Moore to play the Grave.’”
VANESSA TAKES A LARGE DRINK OF WINE, IS SILENT FOR A MOMENT. SHE REFILLS HER GLASS, SIGHING AS THE LAST DROP OF CHABLIS DRIPPED INTO HER GLASS. SHE LOOKED INTO HER GLASS WITH SOMBER, WISTFUL EYES. TIRED OF IT ALL.
“You know, you sound a lot more dangerous when you’re quiet.”
“I know how to get the role, hey. Listen. I’ll just pull a Charlize Theron.”
“Charlize Theron, you moron. You know, the chick from… What’s that movie?”
“The Fifth Element?”
“That’s Milla Jovavich, Sara!”
“Forget it, it’s not important.”
“Now I have to know! You know that feeling, that cabbage like feeling? Something’s right there on the tip of your tongue and yet, just can’t get it out…”
“How are you going to ‘Pull a Charlize Theron’? What does that even mean?”
“She did a movie, about a decade ago. Damn it! what was it called? Anyway, she went from supermodel to a trucker overnight, she gained a little weight, started smoking, and they’ve been throwing fuckin’ Oscars at her ever since. I’ll just give my profile shot to the Internet, invite their wrath, and then I’ll audition again.”
“Why is this so important? You can get other roles.”
“Because Antigone was my favorite heroine growing up, it’s Sophocles’ best play and not that…”
“Is that the guy who wrote the play about the guy banging his mom?”
“Yes, Sara, that’s the Penguin Classics edition. ‘Oedipus at Colonius, Antigone, and of course, his masterpiece, Motherfucker – the King.”
ANNOUNCEMENT COMES FROM INTERCOM ON VANESSA’S DESK:
FEMALE VOICE (OS):
“Dr. Tilton, you’re 1 o’clock is here.”
VANESSA presses the button:
“Thanks, give me five minutes, then send him in.”
“So, what are we going to do about this play?”
VANESSA LOOKED AT HER CLOCK AND THEN HER EMPTY GLASS.
“Just say, ‘She’s method,’ or tell them I’m a Scientologist. I’ll email you a new picture as soon as my kid leaves.”
“All-right, Neska, I’ll be here.”
VANESSA put the receiver down and the camera changes to her perspective, showing her face for the first time – in a framed mirror across from her desk. Her reflection drinks an absurdly large glass of red wine, and she presses the button again.
“Send him in.”
A YOUNG TEENAGE CHILD ENTERS THE ROOM. HE IS WEARING OBVIOUSLY UNCOMFORTABLE KHAKI PANTS AND A TUCKED IN SHIRT. VANESSA GOES TO SHAKE HIS HAND, THEN PULLS AWAY QUICKLY. SHE HURRIES BACK TO THE PHONE.
“Wait a sec, Eric! This is important!”
VANESSA dials her agent’s phone number.
“It was Monster!”
END SCENE 1 – THERAPIST’S OFFICE
4 Artists Whose Greatest Works Were Thinly Veiled Fuck Yous
When you hear the name Rembrandt, what comes to mind? If you’re like most people, you imagine mustachioed merchants looking all pious and respectable and shit. His work is among the most influential and renowned in history. But in his lifetime, he was just a dude, and when a patron refused to pay for a commissioned portrait, he reacted like most dudes would act today, with the 17th century Dutch equivalent of Photoshopping dicks on his face:
As it turns out, history is full of artists whose greatest works are superbly crafted middle fingers. For example…
5 Gian Lorenzo Bernini Drives a Rival to Suicide with a Nun Orgasm
Whenever you think about Roman architecture, you probably think of lots of immaculately chiseled dicks. And Gian Lorenzo Bernini, known as the God damn Cavaliere. is just as responsible as anyone for the aesthetic of 17th century Rome and, by extension, so many dicks. His most famous work is The Ecstasy of St Teresa, which you may notice is a freaking nun in the middle of an orgasm.
But it wasn’t all chiseled dicks and nun orgasms for the Cavaliere. Bernini had a Mozart / Salieri relationship with another prominent architect, Francesco Borromini. And, like an Italian precursor to Walt Disney, Bernini didn’t always credit those who worked for him or on his various projects. When Bernini planned two bell towers for St. Peter’s Basilica, his largest and most ambitious project, he didn’t bother consulting Borromini, the more accomplished architect. Within weeks cracks began to appear on the base of the right tower and started spreading. When it was discovered that the towers were built on boggy ass swamp ground, and the damage spread to the facade, the decision was made to take them down. Truly, the biggest embarrassment ever to befall a Cavalier.
The Fuck You
For a while there, things got pretty rough for Bernini: he caught his brother having an affair with his mistress and reacted like any reasonable adult: he tried to kill his brother and slashed his mistress’s face up, like a less ridiculous version of that fucking stupid scene in Hannibal. You know the saying: when life gives you lemons, cut a bitch. And yet, despite the little setback of attempted murder and assault, Bernini would eventually triumph, proving once and for all that, Fuck you, Borromini.
Borromini would later commit suicide, after a lifetime of depression and insecurity. Here’s a parallel: imagine that that guy from college, you know the one, the one you compete with and embarrassingly compare your success with. Now, let’s say, you turn in Twilight: Eclipse as your English project. And he responds by turning in The Odyssey, Hamlet, and just for good measure, he fucks your dad. What would you do? Exactly.
Speaking of assholes…