#dogmatic run lets goo

[satekakap]

Konstantinos Von Valancius, The Pious One

[ms-scarletwings]

That Speculative Analysis About Irkens No One (Originally) Asked For: Part III

Hey! Huge thanks to everyone who took an interest in the first two parts of this fun I got into about Jhonen Vasquez’s funny green guys. I didn’t really expect to kind of rebound back into this old flame the way I have been lately and it’s actually a pleasant surprise that other fans have been getting something out of it and enabling my latest thinkworms.

Check out the part one of this extended analysis here, for broad tids and bits about Planet Irk and the mention of its inhabitants being basically cyborgs.

Part Two, takes on Irken physiology and focusing on their tissue differences from humans, here.

So alright, I’ve been holding this one in since the very start. Previously, I brushed the topic of the control brains, and I’ve sorta gestured acknowledgement toward the Irken obsession with height. Now, I’m really ready to get some thought goo flowing all over and in the crevices of the matter of Irk’s power structure, and, perhaps the one social W that this marauding pack of space imperialists get to claim.

Bearing no further ado, let’s talk about the Tallest. Can we talk about the Tallest? Please Mac, I’ve been dying to talk about the Tallest with you all day.

I’ve said once and now repeated twice that I think the canon implied that the homeworld of our favorite invaders is dummy thicc; consequentially, it’s left a lasting ripple on the evolution of their species as well.

Planetary gravity has a ton of invisible effects on the skeletons of large fauna, to the point where it’s the main thing that you, filthy Earth creature, can shake your own fist at it for taking a huge slice of the blame behind the prevalence of back pain in upright hominins. All that downward tug can really wear a spine down good over the years. In fact, would you believe that astronauts actually grow a smidge taller in Zero-G environments? Legit. So… use your brain and consider what we could have ended up looking like with our same bone structure, but many times that compression.

You take that mental path, and suddenly, height outcomes may not seem like such an arbitrary measure of general survival fitness after all. Especially in the days before the Irkens represented an intergalactic super power. It may seem counterproductive in their modern intelligent society, but no doubt this aesthetic affinity is something that runs much deeper ingrained than practical programming. Respecting tallness is something Irk takes on dogmatic intuition- to the fault of barely being able to comprehend the notion of another species being both tall AND intellectually primitive.

Nevertheless, I pose that the connection may also be more than traditionalism, and not so vestigial after all. My reasoning suggests that The Almighty Tallest are in fact, not randomly born… they’re planned and made by the real overlords sitting atop the pyramid. And even so, they have existed in the species long, LONG before the PAK even did.

• Caste Polymorphism & Bug Stuff

The insectoid inspirations of Zim’s kin are something so obvious they really need no recapping, yet, I’m pining to make a more specific comparison. Some people like to go for wasps or bees, but if you ask me, the roving militarism of the armada is begging for the ant metaphor if anything.

And I got a hell of a species to whip out that you’ve probably never heard of.

A quick context breakdown- Polymorphism is another one of those long biology terms for a pretty simple concept: when one species has different distinct forms or types of forms that appear in its population. And it’s not talking about continuous spectrum differences like height alone. It’s talking about when animals/plants can have one gene with different possible phenotypical presentations. One good example (in humans no less) is the existence of different blood type groups. One of my absolute favorite cases, by the by, is in Side-Blotched Lizards. The females are samey and look pretty generic, but the males deadass come in 3 completely differentiated color variants, all of which are playing a perpetual game of rock paper scissors with the other two for breeding success.

And this kind of phenomenon of course gets way less subtle in the insect world. Everyone here probably knows the simplified version of what a colony critter’s caste system looks like, with sterile female workers, breeding done males, and one big fat queen at the top, pumping out replacements for the other two. This is the part where I tell you it’s a hell of a lot more complicated, weird, and varied than that, actually.

Consider army ants, as I see them, the most Irk-ish of real world animals. Some fun facts on the most notorious handful of species below:

+ Nomadic by nature, they do not build any form of permanent hill or nest, and instead make temporary pit stops inbetween periods where the entire colony swarms along the forest floor in search of resources.

+ Army ants are aggressively predatory and forage in the style of legion-like “raids” that overwhelm their prey with sheer numbers and speed.

+ These raids often take shape by way of linear traffic columns that guide the direction of the swarm. This is because the ants have poor vision, relying on following the paths of the scent trails of the workers that are spearheading the legion.

+ Eciton burchellii, in particular, demonstrates a stark example of polymorphism by way of a rigid caste hierarchy. I.e., The non-reproductive colony members are divided into 4 sized tiers of worker. From smallest to largest there are minors, medias, porters (sub-majors), and soldiers (majors).

And let me tell you… the difference between the Soldier (major) caste and the rest of that batch is a pretty surprising gap.

This is what ONE major-type ant looks like hanging out with colony mates from the lower worker castes.

Oh wait, getting ahead of myself. Ahem… sorry, I meant THIS is the image I was referring to:

Not only is that obviously the bossiest bitch of the bunch, but she has some pretty cool features unique to her status… The more spidery looking body shape and those absolutely wicked mandibles being a standout.

You know what drop I already had coming, so I’ll cut to the chase.

It’s clear that the Almighty Tallest are NOT the Irken equivalent of a hive queen. They are not drones, either. Besides the glaring fact that they are non-reproductive individuals, the role they serve in Irken society has very little if anything to do with running the day-to-day lives and functions of the larger population.

Instead, we have always seen them (and would have seen them more in the unmade episodes such as The Trial) involved more with the military front of the empire. Tallest Miyuki’s one known planned appearance would have featured her overseeing the military research happening on the Vortian base. Tallest Spork’s brief entrance (and exit) was planned to take place on Devastis, where he addressed those who were being evaluated to join the elite ranks of the armada. And our very own iconic duo have,

also,

never even once been seen on their home planet since their introduction. Their first appearance? Conventia. Ever since? Aboard the Massive, where they directly command and supervise the operations of the active invasions.

Why, the Almighty Tallest in all cases… these aren’t emperors at all, they’re generals! Sure, they have power, they have reverence, but even they must obey the final judgement of a Control brain at the end of the day. The same brains that grant them their status in the first place. Note, in real ants, the mechanics of how exactly any one egg is differentiated into its decided caste, from worker to queen, and all between, is… to say the very least, really fucking complicated. And all over the place. Broadly speaking, it’s a mix between genetic potential and nutrition during development. In some species this determination is near entirely up to the whims of DNA, and in others, it does come heavily down to how many protein shakes the colony decided to give their brood that day.

For the purposes of this hypothetical, I’m going to assume the people of Irk fall somewhere in between those two polar options. Now, being a futuristic network of coordinated supercomputers using cloning tech, the control brains have a more precise handle on the gene pool/diversity of their underlings than anything possible with natural breeding.

Let’s also assume they record and monitor the current population of each potential class of irken (they literally assign and code the PAKs’ occupational roles themselves). With each batch of smeets, they can predetermine certain percentages aside with the potential to fill whatever roles need replacing and expansion… keeping the genetic height markers attached for those downline to understand who should be looking down on who. Ergo, not ANY Irken can one day become the almighty tallest, but within each generation of smeets produced, there are potential candidates hidden among the upper ranks of would-be soldiers.

This way, the sudden death of the current armada commander would not disable current operations or throw the offensive lines into utter chaos for years on end. The Control brains need only select out the cream of the crop from their “proto-Tallest” and then cue their body (via diet or hormones) to switch the proper genes on, get a new growth spurt going, and complete the metamorphosis into their true potential.

As for why they seemed to break a historical precedent and jump for a two-for-one special in Zim’s generation… yeah, I’m not sure about that really. There could be a link between that and the very sudden death of the two previous tallests in a row, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. It could just be a remarkable coincidence that Red and Purple were decided to be equally viable successors. Or, Operation Impending Doom could have been deemed an ambitious enough endeavor to warrant the appointing of two regents at once, given the scale of Irk’s expanded army for the purpose.

So, that’s it, then? The Irken species became so reliant of their technological advancement that they have casted aside and replaced every bit of their natural life cycle and order some

computer deemed inefficient? Substituted the seat of their leadership and even their ability to procreate with the soulless calculations of their AI programs?

:y Well, yes, but actually no.

• Long Live the Cyberocracy!

When I said in part one that Irk was on track to eventually make the jump from cyborg citizens to an entirely mechanical or digitized lifeform, I was doing a ponderous thinking thing. I was supposed to just be speculating, and then I find out the most mind blowing revelation while doing the research for this bad boy- those alien bastards already did it. The madlads/madlasses… So, living Irkens DO actually run the show around here, hiding in plain sight this whole time.

I am still desperately searching for confirmation of the rumors I heard that Vasquez himself has said what I’m about to share, and I deeply appreciate anyone who can give me that as well. Even if this turns out to only be fanon, I’m still in love with this interpretation anyway: Within the Control Brains are the preserved consciousness of Irkens who have achieved this evolutionary end stage. WHO are they exactly is… honestly anyone’s guess. The important part being that they no longer have need of their meat suits to survive any longer and now exist as these hulks of nerve and metal.

Be this what it looks like to me, and it would be certain that this is actually the most coveted and honorary fate of any single Irken- immortalized and given a status on par with deification over the most powerful imperium the cosmos has ever known. Perhaps this was the path of particularly accomplished Tallests of the past, who had their paks integrated into the core of a fledgeling new control interface. What better way to commemorate those who have fallen in the highest level of glory? A single “brain” could in fact even be the summation of multiple beings, making example of the greatest the species has to offer and what all should be striving for. Conversely, the greatest punishment of their kind is the opposite- to be forever deceased, forever forgotten, forever excluded from this collective transcendence:

Damnatio Memoriae.

(But like… in a kids’ show)

There’s no clear estimate on how many control brains exist in the franchise, there are at least four that we have seen on screen, one on Devastis and the others within Judgementia. Probs safe to assume there’s at least one permanently built into the infrastructure of any planet of key enough importance to the Empire. Interestingly, lost scripts and show canon make numerous references to them still having gendered pronouns and voices when addressed individually.

Though, now that I think of it, that’s also really interesting that the same is true for the worker castes, too.

• Putting the “Trans” in Transirkenism 👉😎👉

When a worldbuild goes so far as to explicitly confirm a completely sexless, alien race of neuter cyborgs, the existence of a human-like gender binary starts to beg for some kind of explanation. You can’t just “suspension of disbelief” it aside the same as you can the fact that English is the most popular first language across the Galaxy.

Oh, lookie, it’s one of my favorite things to think about when toying around with postbiological concepts/philosophy. I knew there were even more reasons transhumanism always seemed like such a cool sci-fi trope, from the endless possibilities in imagining the badass super powers, to the worlds of knowledge, and to the absolute social equalization that would all be unlocked in a cybernetic future. Well, that future is already comfortably in the hands of Irk, and whether intentionally or not, it has apparently brought them to the threshold of not just a postorganic, but also a post-gender society too.

A feminine and masculine variation does still exist in the form of small aesthetic differences- voice, antennae shape, pronoun usage, and eyelashes- but is now so far disconnected from the original associated sex roles that the distinction might as well be no more than a cosmetic preference. While “female” irkens are seen much, much more rarely than their counterparts, neither gender is treated differently from the other, and both have been spotted in occupations all the way up to invader elite and the Almighty Tallest.

This is a blending, of course, far beyond the insect-like caste system that itself did survive to the modern day, and that shows some truly impressive progress from what I imagine they were doing before.

Army ants, like all eusocial insects, are matriarchal; as in, where the females run the colony from top to bottom, while the males lead short runs of being mutilated by the workers, mating with the queen, and then dying shortly after.

In this headcannon narrative, it was almost certainly the male-associated gender Irkens who were liberated by the technological jump.

And that’s all sum purdy neat food for thought, huh ! ?

[writer59january13]

Dot dot dot, and in other news devil's advocate claims Teflon Trump

courtesy the comfort of his mancave,

I (a mutated batman wannabe)

doth prattle and stump

and display wide whirled webbed and variegated tail feathers

(also known as rectrices) of mine,

cuz in actuality true bats as quoted verbatim from Google “lack tail feathers, but they do sport tails that vary in structure and can help with classification.

For example, vespertilionids have tails that run to the end of their uropatagiums, while molossids and rhinopomatids have tails that extend beyond the membrane. These species may use their tails to feel their way around when backing into crevices.

Other bats, like emballonurids, have tails that are shorter than the membrane and rise above it. They belong to the order Chiroptera, which means "hand wing". Bats have long fingers that form wings, and a thin membrane called a patagium that stretches between their finger bones. This membrane, along with their many movable joints, makes bats agile fliers” - end quote.

After aforementioned introduction regarding why I proudly pride myself with rare genetic anomaly

that evokes rumpled stilts skin, I not only feel analogous to a mysterious gnome-like character from the German fairy tale Rumpelstiltskin, but also parade mutation

like an out of season mummer, who originally posted the following lines of this poem crafted August 15, 2023.

That unnamed demagogue reincarnate feels gifted to reign supreme

captivates, glorifies, lauds, renounces, yawps extreme

views bellows dogmatic fulminations

in an attempt to redeem

supposed stolen 2020 capital one bid and seal lock, stock and tight as a barrel the upcoming ⁦election Tuesday, November fifth, 2024⁩.

Which pseudo/quasi hunter chomping at the bit (biden his time)

will reap grim statistic, when citizens hopefully cast their ballots for the first female and biracial president in the popular vote 'videre licet' 2024 election) unbeknownst whether Kamala Harris the dark horse candidate will accrue majority votes after

ramping up diplomatic repartee

against mudslinging toward her,

whereby her opponent violently stirs cauldron

proffering toxic brew powerful blend to spellbind public

elixir ration to parlay a view to unleash vengeance laced with hate speech triggering doomsday clock to strike midnight when nuclear weapons get loosed out their silos on cue destroying vast swaths of flora and fauna, most innocent life forms will pay hefty due

to assuage aggressively cruel, enjoyably growling goal, and indubitably kick arse mindset

worse than dengue fever will ensue a combustible domino effect fueling global horror – scenario of webbed, wide world I eschew analogous to kindling tinder logs smoke jetting up fireplace flue witnessing sovereign spookiest

magnum opus – engendering, jump/kick starting, and transforming much of animal and plant life into goo, (especially after special prosecutor

Robert Mueller let go some years back) far scarier than any macabre production dreamt up by human frightful scenario hero she ma, or nog a saké (paltry in comparison) will rescue us from deadly debacle,

nor any safe haven such as cool igloo forsooth thee annihilation will surpass any prior world war, no one will be spared, neither gentile nor Jew which all out total mortal kombat, and attendant dystopian landscape

laying waste organisms livingsocial will instantaneously undergo cremation,

despite Georgia grand jury courtesy indicting former President Donald Trump

that rained down as Stormy Daniels upon his head and up the kazoo, where flecks of ashes will spread like Kudzu rendering world wide web

fetid, offal, and putrid far more noxious than the common loo yet even this general description falls far short to where mew tinny, sans hardy species (according to Google search);

such as tardigrade, mummichog, and cockroach decimating, heaving, leveling, poisoning nearly every cubic inch of Earth evincing voluminous vaporization extant eradication emphatically

nixed, punctuated, and radiated pulverization eviscerating bowels of mankind, where nary a survivor, especially foreigner could weather and withstand hollowed out no mans land

bereft of sustenance or water where seeds of life

and white lily when coalescence of oblate spheroid birthed, nursed, and weaned new life especially proto homo sapiens and subsequent kin grunting with ah and sheepish ewe where rambunctious fast tracked primates, yet inherent within genetic coda,

(perhaps poison ingredient bubbling within primordial soup - steeped qua pew tarnation housing crucible- analogous to planetary size mortar and pestle) queue sans predestination, where rue brick, dogma, and fealty

honoring justice slew by paws of one cancerous, fractious and idolatrous Lothario, who opened Pandora Box

(rigged by bobbies shut tight) thorough lee rendered civilization a footnote of cosmological history and universal view where if one eligible voter ideally chooses alternate Democratic, but hands down Republican candidate will clinch nomination,

witnessing elephants to stampede, the majority will exhale a collective whew and allow, enable and provide no end to speculation about decimation about me, you and continuance of the human zoo.