Why Japanese masterpiece Princess Mononoke flummoxed the US

Magical transformations, from Cinderella to new film Mrs Harris Goes to Paris

I can’t fall asleep till my skin—sweaty, sticky, sizzling with bacteria, random fungal itches, swellings, vague histamine eruptions—has been unified by a bath or shower. I wear a white cotton T-shirt softened by age to tame this commotion and to guard my insanely sensitive nipples against the onslaught of, say, the blanket’s edge.

Mr. X. and I read for a while. I’m reading Derek McCormack’s wondrous Castle Faggot, but after a few paragraphs the words stop making sense. I whisper, “Bona nit, estimat.” Xavi whispers, “Bona nit, malparits,” and we kiss. Why do we whisper? Sometimes we whisper “I love you.” I roll onto my right side, and incredibly Xavi slides closer and drapes an arm over me. Ceding bed territory sets off a small alarm. “Sweet dreams, honey,” he might add, amused to be using the English endearment. Thirty seconds later he snores softly in my ear and a toenail digs into my calf. I am on the edge, he gathers the quilt in such a way that I am half-exposed and if I want more space or more covers there will be a struggle. I find this adorable. Everything explains why we should be together in this bed.

I often think about the dead before sleep—saying goodnight to them? Not think about—more like have the feeling of them. Are they my default setting? Is default consciousness what happens before sleep? My mother and I disliked talking on the phone so we spent most of our weekly calls saying goodbye, but now I mentally pick up the phone to say hello, a gesture. I think of Kathy Acker with a pang of love, a welter of unfinished business. When Xavi holds me, he contains these feelings. Tonight it’s simple—I wish Kathy were alive to be held like this.

Flo, Rachel and Chloe just about make it to the studio after a chaotic night in Brighton, where England blew Norway to pieces! 8-0! Have some of that!

We report back from the Amex and wonder how vital Sarina Wiegman is to England's chances. We also look over the other main contenders, including a sumptuous France performance, and tip the hat to Northern Ireland after their hopes of qualification were extinguished by Austria.

Remember, all post-England shows will be available on the Ramble feed this summer. But if you want access to all our Euros coverage, make sure you're subscribed to Football Ramble Presents!

Got a question for us? Tweet us @FootballRamble, @FloydTweet, @GirlsontheBall and @Morgie_89

***Please take the time to rate and review us on Apple Podcasts or wherever you get your pods. It means a great deal to the show and will make it easier for other potential listeners to find us. Thanks!***

How a 1922 painting broke the mould

To my retroactive disappointment, the journals I keep—I fill about one marble composition book a year—are an undifferentiated, undated jumble of fiction drafts, semifictionalized self-reflections, actual diary entries, to-do lists, lesson plans, notes for articles I’m writing, and strange doodles often in the form of heavily inked trapezoidal grids. I wish that the notebooks more frequently included scenes like this, in which I simply recorded, without much commentary or elaboration, what I remembered right after a conversation with my younger sister sometime in 2011, when she would have been thirteen and I twenty-five. Too often when I write personally I simply record states of mind, which have been frustratingly static and melodramatic over the years and often seem to be stylized in a way that I find unconvincing, even to myself. This page presents a clearer picture of what life was like at the time—quizzing my sister about her religious beliefs, asking her about TV shows and who Bruno Mars was. I was encouraging her to be open-minded about religion, even as a devout nonbeliever myself, probably out of some quasiparental instinct. She described an idiosyncratic cosmography: no to God, yes to guardian angels. Apparently she wanted to be a doctor at the time. (She ended up going to art school, a family tradition.) I was living in New York, home for the weekend, visiting my parents in New Jersey. The next decade took me to Montana, Virginia, and Boston before I circled back to Brooklyn just in time for the pandemic. I saw my sister in Philadelphia recently. She was driving the car, and we talked about what was on her mind now. Gay bars, the Supreme Court. I did not ask about angels.

Andrew Martin is the author of the novel Early Work and the story collection Cool for America.

Today’s Football Ramble Presents showcase is one close to our hearts.

Last year, the European Super League crashed into our lives. On the first anniversary of that fateful announcement, Andy Brassell and a host of journalists, fans and familiar Ramble voices tell the story of what happened, how supporters fought back, and wonder what the future holds.

In the first of three episodes, we traced the long road to April 2021. 

From the origins of the Super League in the 80s, to the scarcely believable backroom manoeuvrings inside UEFA last year, we spoke to the journalists who first broke the story to understand the motivations and miscalculations that finally made Europe’s biggest clubs cash in their most valuable bargaining chip. 

Want to hear more? Episodes 2 and 3 are available on Football Ramble Presents.

As Better Call Saul ends, how it improved on its acclaimed predecessor

OMG!!! The Curse Is Broken? By Victor Stephen.

A 21 gunshot salute to all Gooners floating somewhere in the orbit of the Goonerverse, defying gravity while basking in the euphoria of watching the gunners in action yesterday 8th July, at the Max-Morlock-Stadion, Germany. FC Nurnberg played host to Arsenal FC, with almost every eye locked on Gabriel Jesus, our new number 9. Though just a friendly pre-season tie meant to give both teams a runout, to boost fitness levels, ahead of a demanding season. It was the perfect opportunity to get a glimpse of what to expect from the team this season and a sneak peek into Arteta’s tactical thought process for the season opener. If that performance was his (Jesus) audition, then I guess we are in for a good show.

Okay, I get it. I hear you. It was only a pre-season friendly with nothing at stake, so let’s not get carried away, let’s see him do it consistently on a week-in, week-out basis, before we get excited and I understand your point clearly but I am just appreciating his application to the game at the moment and the positive effect he had on the game when he was called upon. His pressing was clear to see and the intent with which he ran at the opposition defence, caused a lot of chaos as he popped up all over the opposition’s final third combining to good effect with Nketiah.

Gabby could have easily had a hat trick but his brace was impressive as well. With the first goal, a sweet shot into the roof of the net from close range and the second, typical of a fox in the box, running in front of the defender and applying a deft and subtle touch off his right boot to guide the ball into the back of the net. Asides Gabby’s brace, his general play was an indication that Arsenal have added to their ranks a very good signing that will tremendously improve the quality of the team’s attack this season.

Assessing him fresh off his general gameplay in this match, he looks like the chosen one prophesied to come from across the seas to break the curse of the Arsenal number 9 shirt. Well, enough of the sweet talk, football is not theatre or some Greek mythological legend, it’s a performance-based sport and Jesus is going to have to prove just beyond one fantastic display, that he can repeat such feats, throughout a 38-match EPL season, Europa League campaign, as well as the two domestic cup competitions. However, it was undoubtedly an encouraging debut that should flip his nitro boosters and set his confidence on overdrive.