#dr. stanley

[coldboysintheworld]

Alistair Petrie at SDCC Málaga

Our boy Stanley will be at a Spanish SDCC event this October! The announcement comes after the unfortunate news that he's had to cancel his appearance at Rebel Scum in Texas in summer.

Find out more at SDCC

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

Oops all doctors! playlists for the terror (2018) ft. a special guy ;)

Below are the doctors playlists! Each was so fun to make, especially Goodsir's and I think Peddie's was pretty fun too. I'd like to thank the one discord server im a part of, if ur in the wardroom thanks for helping me spark such huge inspiration for McDonald's playlist which I also think is extremely good. Well I'm actually so biased these all four slap hard. AND IN HONOR OF DJ DOLL EYES, I am also unleashing Jopson's playlist to the world (he gets to be first bc its his big birthday where hes NOT dying, bc all the doctors are here to ward off scurvy). So if you wanted an example of what I think mister doll eyes is listening to when he isn't always putting others first even in fictional playlists

Thomas Jopson [LINK]-

Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan || The Rose Captain by Sea Wolf || Service Bell by Grizzly Bear, Feist || Oom Sha La La by Haley Heynderickx || Water Tower by The Mountain Goats || Funeral by Tele Novella || Hell Of A Ride by FIZZ || They're Cheap (I'm Free) by Skating Polly || Heart Hensoukyoku "Mugen" No. 1 Ren Hatanchou by Yumi Morio || Does Your Mother Know by ABBA || Tonight I'm Wearing Silk by Vundabar || Shame, Shame, Shame- Vocals by Shirley & Company || Right By Your Side - Remastered by Eurythmics, Annie Lenox, Dave Stewart || Bloodsucking Whore by Ezra Furman, The Harpoons || Hot Mess by girli || Better by The Honeysticks Ricky Montgomery || Waiting For The Man- Remastered by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark || Smalltown Boy- Spotify Single by Orville Peck || Downtown by Petula Clark

Dr. Goodsir [LINK]-

Bathed In Sound by Cosmo Sheldrake || Photosynesthesia by Louie Zong || Sparkbird by Sparkbid || Worms by Viagra Boys || FUNGUS by The Narcissist Cookbook || Crabwalk by Party in the Hills || Nature Song by Twain || Things She Said by Chris Garneau || Ravens by Reno Shaw || Journey To Wherever We May Go by Grand Commander || Almost Was Good Enough by Songs: Ohia, Jason Molina || Remember Something Beautiful by Machinery of the Human Heart || I Make Too Many Mistakes by Foresight || Museum by Kitsch Club || Drunken Stars by Minimall || Closer by The Tiny, Elle-Kari || The Mouth by Honey and the Sting || A Darkness In My Soul by Solid Space || Changes Shape by Cosmic Johnny || On My Own by Three Days Grace

Dr. McDonald [LINK]-

Here Comes The Summer by The Fiery Furnaces || Look Me in the Heart by Tina Turner || The Cat-Song by Laura Nyro || Tyriya & Ramakrishna by Alice Coltrane || Too Close for Comfort by Eartha Kitt || Some Become Strangers by Stevie Nicks || I Wake Up Slow by Dory Previn || Turn, Turn, Turn (To Everything There Is A Season) by Nina Simone || Down Where The Valleys Are Low (Remastered) by Judee Sill || Stoned Soul Picnic by Julie London || Until I Met You by Mavis Staples || How Deep It Goes by Heart || So Goes Love- Demo by Carole King || All I Want by The Supremes || Quitting Time by The Roches || Cool Dry Place by Katy Kirby || Ibiza by Butcher Brown || Komorebi by ARTEMIS || In the Winter- Remastered by Janis Ian || Ocean City by Charming Disaster

Dr. Stanley [LINK]-

Love -> Building on Fire 2005 Remastered by Talking Heads || Mendelssohn: 3 Preludes and Fugues, Op. 37, No. 1 in C Minor: Prelude, MWVW21 by Felix Mendelssohn, Stephen Cleoburry || City of Electric Light by Chad VanGaalen || Country Death Song by Violent Femmes || The Man on the Burning Tightrope by Firewater || Vanilla by Jack Stauber || Feathers by Man Man || Fanfare by Jacques-Nicolas Lemmens, Gerard Brooks || Starving In The Belly Of A Whale by Tom Waits || Always Alone by Johnny Cash || Apple Tree by Marika Hackman || Birdland by The Afghan Whigs || Complicated Creation by Cloud Cult || Incinerate by Sonic Youth || Clap Your Hands! by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah || Buckets of Fun by Sidney Gish || Perfect Fit by Clues || Golden Age by Chris Staples || Them Heavy People by Kate Bush || With Dreams of Adventure, I Smoke my Longpipe Beneath the Stars by Hole Dweller

Dr. Peddie [LINK]-

snake by Sadurn || Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole by Martha Wainwright || 285 HZ Mend Your Wounds by Manifestation Frequencies || This is Not Who I Am by Joanna Sternberg || (Electricity) by Courtney Barnett || Easy Violence by Sun June || Don't Think About Me by Laura Stevenson || Stabbed to Death Outside of San Juan by The Mountain Goats || Shadi by Petrojvic Blasting Company || 395 HZ Inner Transformation Vibes by Manifestation Frequencies || I'm In The World by Moondog || Phantom of the Opera - 2015 Remastered by Iron Maiden || All of My Friends by River Whyless || Jennifer by Faust || Nugget by CAKE || 528 HZ Open Your Heart by Manifestation Frequencies || Honey in the Hair by Blackbird Raum || Allah, Allah, Allah by mewithoutYou || Genetic Engineering by X-Ray Spex || The Unthinking Majority by Serj Tankian

[sunrise-on-the-reaping]

- Doctor Stanley. - Sir.

[holymotherofgertrude]

Mr. Henry Collins: y'know, the impending doom of myself and all my fellow crewmen is kind of bumming me out. i am also quite full of lead and it's turning my brain into swiss cheese.

Dr. Stanley: please for the love of christ just shut up and do coke about it like everyone else

[misssneasel]

There we go I’m back for the moment, sorry work has been a bit overwhelming lately, haha. 😂 I’ve had so much fun drawing these, I feel like Hodgson as hemulen is a perfect choice, wouldn’t you agree? Tuunbaq was a bit of a challenge to draw in this style since I’ve never seen anything bear-like in the moomins. So I took some inspiration from the Groke and the tigers in some of the episodes. I’m not too happy with the result, but trust me on this; The first attempt was ugly with a capital U.

Now I’ve almost run completely out of characters and ideas to draw for this, I have James Clark Ross, Sophia Cracroft and Lady Jane Franklin left. Then I’ll try to draw scenes with the crew soon. Again, if you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them! I think I should have the ask box open now if I’m correct! 😊

[petulant-cat]

[ferylcheryl]

Private Heather’s exposed brain glistens oxblood and rose in the dim light.

“It’s a pudding, basically,” explains Stanley.

“I would have said ‘cathedral’,” McDonald retorts mildly. “I suppose it depends on the man.” He glances at Stanley, that ineradicable teasing glint in his eye.

And how much he has endured,Stanley thinks to himself. After all, there had been a time that he, too, might have likened man’s brain to a cathedral. Actually, he would have reserved that particular metaphor for the body, for it was more apt: the ribcage curved over heart and lung like the kerfed ribs of St. Paul’s vaulting up over the nave. A lavish miracle of engineering, man and cathedral alike; the one’s form echoing the other. The brain, he might’ve likened more to a clock. No less intricate, far less ostentatious of a metaphor. Or a lightning storm. A nebula of tree roots. Not a pudding, at any rate—but now, that’s what he sees, and that’s how he calls it.

Anyway, he grudgingly likes McDonald. He comports himself with a mirthful equanimity more befitting a cook or a seaman than a doctor, and Stanley’s own effort to model a mien more befitting go largely disregarded by both him and Goodsir (who is such a soft, scuttling thing he hardly warrants notice). But McDonald: there’s something of steel in the man, a kind of grit; perhaps the ability to face up to the horror of the brain exposed and scry in it a holiness—and to speak of it with gladness. There was a time they might have been fast friends.

He casts a sidewise glance at Goodsir, who is busy with flame and sealing wax. He’d asked to stay and watch McDonald cauterize the edges, asserted his will in that cringing way of his: how timid he is, yet he seems always in the way, somehow. His mere presence grates. Now, the eyes having been sealed—at Stanley’s request, Goodsir notes—and the cauters heated, Goodsir takes a moment to inspect the brain closely. It is the first living brain he’s seen, the skull shorn away with unnervingly surgical precision, and it is enough in itself. What he means is, man’s engine needs no metaphor to claim divinity: it is out of this labyrinth of pink hillocks and blood vessels as finely-forked and intricate as lightning that the whole of human history is sprung. Yet removed from the context of its vast scope of accomplishment, one might think of it as so much meat. Both men are correct, but neither grasps the full complexity of it.

Nor does Goodsir, in terms he could explain. But for a moment its full complexity is unfurled before him—like Bernini’s St. Theresa, this vision of the brain’s thousand manifestations, transfigurations, iterations pours down around him like shafts of gold: a cathedral, a pudding, a geode hatched open. A chorale of light, of impulse, of blueprints and ecstasies. The holy symmetry of the lobes, their earthen ugliness; by the will of the great animator a thousand cathedrals erected and puddings confected—metaphor is inconsequential in the blinding light of this revelation. Metaphor is language: this transcends.

But it only lasts a moment. He is used to it by now, these—what else can he call them but visions? It is like his mind’s eye is momentarily deluged with a sight not his own, and his intellect (which he recognizes with conditioned humility is not insubstantial) is left to sort it out. When he was a child he tried to share it with others, he discovered that he not only lacked the language but that others did not experience the same. “A capital imagination”, his mother had beamed to a friend once. “Unnatural,” the woman had retorted darkly. He was eight then and never spoke of it again. Not even when it took the form of instructive presentiment. At ten, idly plucking blackberries on a country ramble, he fancied he could taste—for all of him was given to these visions, brain and ear, touch and tongue—within each black-shining drupelet smaller ones, an infinitude of — what might he call them? The matter of all things parsed into smaller, invisible things. And the next week he learned of cells, discovering their name only after tasting them.

He raises his eyes and glances from Dr. Stanley to Dr. McDonald to Stanley again. And again he sees the darkness around Stanley’s head, a scrambled etch-work of lines, like a child’s drawing of cloud. He drops his gaze. This he is accustomed to as well: the crown And he feels the room warm incrementally as Stanley leaves it. McDonald crosses behind him in the small space, grazing his hand along the small of Goodsir’s back as he does so. This he does often, and it is such a natural gesture for a man of such bonhomie that Goodsir has only recently begun sensing something more in so many seemingly incidental touches: a brush of fingertips as they exchange an instrument, the older man’s gaze lingering—kindly, but lingering nevertheless—a few seconds longer than necessary.

Perhaps he is imagining it. He hopes he is. Not just because he dreads disappointing McDonald with his eventual rebuff, but because he senses—again, it is nothing he can explain, nor does he see it the way he sees the naked brain before him, the low wooden beams of the sick bay, the anatomical drawings pinned to the wall—a weak, fluttering light, like the beat of moth wings, emanating from Stanley’s heart when McDonald is near. In close proximity, it flickers nearly steadily; it gutters and fades as McDonald moves away. Goodsir knows what it is, though he’s never experienced it firsthand: longing, affection. When shared between two lovers, it buoys him—an aimless sunniness, like on the morning of one’s birthday. But suppressed, as with Stanley’s feeling for McDonald (not even, Goodsir guesses, acknowledged by the sour-tempered veteran to himself) it is an agitation; one’s hands shake and all things, even breath, taste of ash and iron.

——

To be continued? Eventually? Posting to galvanize me into working more on it.

[starbuck]

Is he always that cheeky?

— No. That’s something new.