#like i know its just because the general permeating idea of animals is like
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
exittapes · 4 months ago
Text
…And it was then that the high really kicked in… I am enveloped by an artificial liquid that can stimulate through impenetrable material… The idea of having a politician to represent you is a holdover from a time before mass-communication and they don't deserve a job in our economy. Only the wealthy need the political system to protect themselves from poor people protecting each other. Ask any parent, a lack of responsibility in a person's life can destroy their ambitions towards success. Not having a vote that matters has caused the elderly to crest this nation on the back of their old ideas. And they've made revolution near-impossible. But ideas can still alter the course of the land's majesty. Where our true royalty is in the beauty of the lives that either have to go without or have to chosen to live modestly. The many just need power. How much time do we waste on trivial resolutions for the accruement of technology deadweight? Could that effort be spent controlling the rebuilding of our nation? As voting reminds me of who we are in a yearly standardized test of our empathy, we must remember that many are still confused about where they stand. I think more voting equates to a better education. Where most youth in the last thirty-plus years have to learned read at a "higher level" thanks to an involvement in the latest social constructs, whether that is messaging each other online or posting their earliest opinions that they've yet to overcome, we've been forced to listen to those who've prevented their own inner-dialogue from advancing through privilege, religiosity, false modesty and ensuring that control has its outlets for continuing unimpeded by the conditions generated their remorseless killing throughout the rest of the world. They do want unity. They only wish for everyone to pray to their morning beverages that they have a job tomorrow, as do the politicians that know their employment is a worthless luxury next to the people's ability to dictate policy through direct-action. Which is what a monthly online voting promises. We will need a new president every four weeks or so. To sign what the people themselves have voted into existence. And we could just hire animals to sign at that point, honestly. From a randomized list of every single one of them. …During the period of phasing out our politicians, we should hire them like we do class presidents in public schools, to commune in generating opinions for new legislation to be signed by the citizens… To teach us how they run the machinery… "Yeah, sure, run it into the ground…" as a poet once said… Robert Anton Wilson once said, paraphrased, that the largest conspiracy on Earth is of the dumb to keep everyone as stupid as their idiot children… And our world is built with as many crutches as possible for such children earn these titles… How many ingredients in foods provide us with nothing but genotoxicity and how addictive is that state of artificial symbiosis in our bodies? These demonic boxes of overpriced goods are another reality tunnel that the mind cannot often recognize is affecting their own ability to protect what makes us civil… Do you really believe that there is a form of dieting that is not addictive? When your routine of just waking up is not usually what the body demands and yet does anyway because the world we've built is an antihuman nightmare… Accept that our lives are more dangerous than the ones on television to sanity of our neighborhoods… Because what we do never stops permeating around us… Meaning an abused child can destroy a city block faster than the garbage truck not showing up… What William S. Burroughs might've referred to as a situation with The Nova Heat written all over it… Let's talk about aliens… I've never been abducted but I've encountered multiple inter-dimensional entities offering their own literature and seen unidentified flying objects paint with the clouds themselves… Yes, I am an experienced communicator with many forms of angelic technology… I've built boxes of rain with the sound of manic-depressive automobile karaoke…
0 notes
randomclam24 · 1 year ago
Text
This is an actual quote from a shill on 4chins. Things like this aren't even abnormal here
">le viral bleating hillbilly! >le mass awakening!!1 /pol/ needs to stop deluding themselves about this song it's catchy and it clearly strikes a nerve but this isnt the start of some grand assembly of the disgruntled silent majority this is conservative's swan song confirmation that the demoralization is complete and irreversible cons are whipped dogs cowering, whimpering out their sad tune ready to be taken out back and put down like old yeller so yes, by all means, wail out your 'woe is me' blues but let's stop the delusion of this song having downstream political implications"
Source: https://archive.is/F2ZuO
Life was a mistake [(all our tax money actively goes to people like this (nobody cares))]
Shilling like this is the only voice that permeates the governance of the Western nations at any given moment in time since probably the 20's
This update was shadowban-deleted, so I had to upload it *again*
https://imgur.com/QRQsPXR
Daily reminder that only shilling like the above is God.
Therefore we should throw off our prismatic shackles
Honestly though they *are* in the right. You people have disappointed me so much, it's been by something completely arbitrary to the point itself that I don't just kill myself. I know this and *you* know this. Let's not lie
Update Post like the above are the real reason I hate. People like that talk like that 24/7 and get zero repercussions because they're considered "right", and are! *I'm* in the wrong!
People like this are the ones who need to be taken out back and beaten. But we all know that's not how the police force works. Reference that article about the mentality being trained into them that the poor are cockroaches and that there's an implicit war against the police that constantly has to be quelled. I really wish that were true. In fact it probably has to do with the Masonic aspect of the police fore being actively disrespected, causing Israel to give these quelling demands.
Blame me for drinking overproof Blame *me* for drinking
Really, life is boring generally, so maybe that was more to make it more interesting for a short time
Update I genuinely am the swan song of the white nigger *cattle* *class* before I'm taken out back and shot like a pig
Update autism Trees in the Depths - Kirby Super Star Music Extended - YouTube
I ran out of ideas in life in general, but I came up with a vague concept of an idea which was to go from the idea of the arcade that was in Doom Center and try to make something of that from the ground up with arcade games and other things I have Midway Arcade Treasures on Gamecube I guess is probably the #1 game I would recommend that isn't a particular classic title Just ended up playing Joust and Joust II
I never personally experienced what an arcade in the original context was as a social thing, and that's probably part of my curse of being a near-zoomer millenial, that everything that's good comes to an end like the inverse of a red carpet for me because everything has to be bad for its own sake
Okay
My cousin who took it in the ass said Midway Arcade Treasures, just from watching me play it, which was on Toobin', just said it looks like something meant for bored rich kids
Update Also, I disavow the word "gamer" now. It's so broad, it doesn't mean anything. You're getting at something more specific just saying you like "anime" as an ambiguation, because at least that has personality to it.
If you like a more specific genre, own up to that. "Gamer" as a title is a cop-out for owning up to anything that actually requires something of you in particular, because there is so much casual gaming now, it doesn't come with the territory anymore that you actually strive just because you game.
Update Resident Evil Remake Save Room (Safe Heaven) 1 Hour - YouTube
I don't like you
I don't apreciate you
I'm actually kind of sad that Siren didn't get the kind of wonderment surrounding it that Silent Hill did when, confirmed by experience, Siren is easily more tense
Update I think I know what I mean finally. The way I'm pent up, it's as if I would be being a psychopath or something just because I open up. So that's why I want you to know that I fucking hate you Well that doesn't help my case at all
There was a point in time where I was considering making a Doom wad set in an atmospheric open world in the dead of night where the goal of having enemies in it at all wasn't to make an action experience but deliberately to catch you off guard completely
Am I the only one who thinks that "leitmotifs" in the writing in Silent Hill games like "the door that wakes in darkness, opening into nightmares", or "and at the center of his world is his mother" ultimately lead to nowhere
Somebody commented on a slowed version of one of these tracks uploaded online, what we want isn't these tracks, but the memories we have attached to them or something
What we really want is the swan song of the white n* before we get put down like old yeller lol xd
Update What if on some level I hate everything What if there's nothing I ultimately don't hate
What if I told you Lain in and of itself is overrated If there were more shows like it, I might actually shill for, but it's just the same show over and over - there's nothing more to talk about
What if I want everybody to be told the same thing as if in rap they were being called a "fuck-nigga" because all their advice meant jack shit - then I would end up being one of those that got mowed down in the streets because they gained a bit of hood notoriety Good life
I don't really feel that - I just want everybody to back off
First, allow me to remove the poop from my moccasins
Update No, I can't do *enough* to make people feel like shit
Update I'm the kind of person who just takes these soundtracks and doesn't really beat the game Resident Evil
But I did play it, to a decent extent on every difficulty
I'm going to just sit here and be a piece of shit until somebody shoots me
Update Life is totally meaningless, you just have to accept it and get used to it
Update I'm an evil person, and everything I do should be monitored. Please pay more attention to me
Infrastructure won't survive the incompetence crisis Spread the word, even though there are like two Republicans who already know that who aren't drooling retards etc. etc. etc. that the liberal said about them
Every day sucks and I wish for death
8/14 night It is no longer Sunday, so I've been at work already. Hopefully, the program will be done before morning, and then I can show it off, but that will also almost inevitably lead to having to admit that each major unit was only supposed to last around 2 hours each, while I started this in January. It's that bad.
Update That was, for once, a solid 2-hour block of work. I don't think I've done that for real since trying to get into Missouri S&T at Rolla. Now there's just the last half of the last unit, which is shorter than the others.
By the way, I left the Resident Evil remake save room music playing the whole time, and when it shut off, it was during this segment where, in trying to give the scope of the future of web design and development, they just have two Indian CEOs shill about virtual reality, and with the effect of the music gone, suddenly it was about all I could focus on, the fact that I don't want to sit here and write out how these people are getting paid so much to say that.
Oh, and I just stopped taking my meds in secret cold-turkey starting about two days ago.
My mom in particular was acting like she was trying to sedate a rampaging bull, but in the end they're not even prescribing for that. It's for anxiety at worst and then also depression.
Update Well, it's done. That was three and a half hours total as a session, with one short break.
Now either we have to consult with whoever needs to be contacted over IBM Skillsbuild once day breaks, or I could just leave it for even longer and let my parents think I'm still working on it for a while.
Update So it's near morning now. Still have another solid hour, but still
Web designer was one of the career paths through this program that only involved one credit hour.
I worked out my arm muscles, slowly this time.
I checked my room and the bathroom after taking the trash out and decided they're not really in a state that I'd want to clean them anyway
I have nothing to do.
If it's true that this is the last time I'm going to be required to do something without already getting a paycheck at least in the meantime, that would be so great.
8/15 I trimmed the bushes for $30 - I still have only ~$80 grand total
So technically there is enough to get an external hard drive - the question is how large do you want it - or in the long run how large am I going to need it
8/16 night Okay, so based on the transfer speeds, the best deal overall stands out as "WD My Book" at 4TB for $99.99.
I'm still trying to sell the Xbox 360.
Update Since that studying session at midnight, my sleep schedule is out of whack. You can't just plop out a bed and skip to morning like it's Minecraft.
8/16 I mowed the entire lawn, so I'm getting paid for that - I can already afford the external hard drive which is disproportionately large, and the game sales are going well since they've been priced down significantly. The idea with any further booze was to wait until I have permission to drive somewhere on my own without someone there with me. That way I could actually go to a liquor store - the point was to keep expenditures down, since the best alternative that can be found in regular stores was this $30 1L overproof rum
I don't even know what I want to spend money on.
Basically I wasn't going to play that one game until I have the ridiculous amount of alcohol and then I could see what happens
Update Someone bought the whole set of things I was selling, and he made the deal for $100 - I figured not everything would sell individually, so
I did the math and figured he would be getting Silent Hill 4 Xbox for $5 instead of the normal price, with everything else factored in. I asked him if he had played Silent Hill, any of the games, before, and he had played the first and maybe two or some other one, so I just figured give him the deal.
Now I have more money than I know what to do with, starting tomorrow once I'm taken to the bank. I'm going to try to be the one to drive so I can normalize that.
Honestly wasn't expecting that much from the sale. Now I'm going to have about $130 left after getting the external hard drive with 4TB I'll have no idea what to do with.
8/17 night I've decided against getting any electric scooter, because we just don't have those kinds of funds.
I already played some arcade games tonight. What else am I supposed to do all day? My sleep schedule is just as out of whack as before.
Realistically, they're probably not going to let me drive on my own at all - would there ever be a point in time where they're all out but left a car behind in the garage?
8/17 Alright. Order is in, and I have another 100-proof Captain Morgan.
When I asked if I could drive there, I was just told automatically "no". That's going about as I expected.
What if I literally just take a bicycle
Update Right now, I'm stuck just doing a back-and-forth through email with the program I'm included in. I still have until Tuesday before the external hard drive arrives.
Update I'm so sorry I do this - Captain Morgan 100-proof, now less watered down so there's minimal liquid intake Good memories really do come rushing back all of a sudden
Half the time, I think it's actually going to be worth it to recreate dreams I have just in and of themselves with no further context, in 3D, no less - but that ultimately means professional 3D modeling - because basic geometry rendering isn't going to recreate the experience.
It's basically, how many hoops do I have to jump through, which I hate, and then everybody's advice ultimately amounts to "don't even attempt such a thing" when the going gets this high-maintenance. But I do - but I do - I do want to
It's so borderline, I don't know what to do with that even personally.
I guess having the N-word pass still means you can get it revoked, per se. You know how in obsessive fandoms they have "how you doin', every-pony?"
Yeah there was a definitive point in playing Earthbound while drunk for the sake of getting the kicks out of it or something that my eyes following my eye floaters started to feel more real than the screen, and that's when I projectile-vomited. I want that but bypassing the vomiting, so we're doing it with more concentrated liquid. Judge me because I'm not setting a good example - tell him
It was fun and I don't really have any hecks (?) to give
Update I always hated the idea of having any cop-out, but I think it might actually be accurate to my case - "I can't handle no liquor" I'm going to barf this shit up - that's obviously my first instinct. Give me an earful
Update At Philmont, I heard "never trust a fart", and I guess that's much more relevant on the trail than anywhere else.
Now it's "never trust a burp" - I can't see how people can slam down a shot glass and ask for more just like that.
There's more specifically recommended by "Specialisterne" on IBM Skillsbuild - I guess I should do that
I'm an idiot for doing this
You know what I feel compulsive in saying that every time such a thing comes up What if No.
*ukulele cover* "Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks" etc.
But seriously, when were we *ever* going to find a future? (Nobody wants to *say* it but, *nobody cares*)
I guess you're just not allowed to say that. What is Socialism in and of itself? What happens when you have it of a Nationalist variety?
(Everybody works together)
Shoutout to: (What games have we got stacked up here) Ty the Tasmanian Tiger
Everybody's "advice" is contingent on the assumption, you just don't want to go that high-maintenance in the first place, but that doesn't bode well for me.
Update "Blaster, blaster"
There isn't going to be another XXXTentacion. When did you realize life isn't worth having? etc.
Update I think half of what makes me okay with drinking when it comes down to the decision to go through with it literally *is* a complete disregard for what people in general think - because it's not casual drinking we're talking about here - this is pretty serious
It's like I want to be able to just be youthful and stupid as a blessing, but it's starting to bypass me with age, so I have to just take it back by brute force
I actually asked my mom, when she dotingly called me "child" - where after I chastised her a little over a reference sounding like "manchild" (which my dad literally *has* used as an insult to me once) - at worst, I still would find it interesting to build a Lego set according to an elaborate setup book scheme, but I don't play with them like *dolls*, and she acknowledged me because my little sister, who already has a boyfriend now for a few years, got an "architect" Lego set to build with him.
Elon Musk himself, if it wasn't a fake, said something like, having a girlfriend hits different when you know she's there according to gangstalking etc.
If everybody and their grandmother saw what I'm writing here, I'm sure they would think, this boy's work ethic is so great, let's hire him - let me *prove* to you that I can have a change of heart - this is a *stage*, okay?
Update If anything, I love being alone enough, it's like, just do away with the anxiety involved
I had a recurring thematic in dreams where my dad's back-room of the basement is actually *expanded* and includes a room way back there that *somehow* everybody has forgotten about where dad used to play emulations of many, many arcade games, and they're all there included on the PC if you meander back there. The idea was, if you get back there, no one remembers the place exists, so you get to enter "the zone" because you know no one will find you.
And, if I'll describe it to any real length, it goes on to include my grandma on my father's side's abode as well, which also no one seems to remember as part of our basement's back-room's expansions. It's kind of interesting as a labyrinth in itself, and it varies from dream to dream.
Joji - you suck charlie is going to be "creepypasta" by "Welcome Home"'s standards because it was heterosexual
I respect people in general enough, I'm not just going to spam the bottom-of-the-barrel of what's on my mind
But that might have more to do with the fact that I don't want people to jump ship on me - straightforward
Yeah, I think this format has overstayed its factor of, "if a white man had a time machine and could go back in time and say whatever needs to be said in the shortest amount of time"
But I'm sure I don't just understand everything myself all right away
Update I know I said some people out there should "roast" me or something, but I think what I *really* want is that somebody just legitimately, organically *intimidate* me.
It's not good to just be without any barriers at all.
Update To an extent, I have this role that isn't constrained by day-job hours, but beyond that understanding, I don't know if people *really* don't take the example
Update One thing I took from the Bible in my own personalized way, admittedly, was that heaven is a place with many mansions. In my dreams are places with many mansions interconnected.
Not all of them are great, though. Some of them have great negative emotional aura.
Update The ultimate fate of Mother 3 embitters me on the fate of gaming. It's, like, if they were going to release something that good, it - apparently *still* would be in such an abstract format, it's not the experience itself you're paying for or get to own, but the "intellectual property" of it in abstract form.
Update I think anyone can understand what "putting all your eggs in one basket" is. It doesn't matter how smart someone is, when it comes down to that. Most of that is when you're at your best. (And yes I put figures of speech in quotations because this is multi-lingual)
Update I have two earplugs I normally use against gangstalking which are basically ring-shaped tiny handles with something like an earbud, and the earbud got stuck in my right ear.
I feel like, all the time when I do this, one of these days I'm gonna own ya, but in real life the government will come in and do that to me sooner.
(By making myself stupider marginally, I give myself effective midwit charm) - is that true?
And once again, not to make anyone panic, although in a way it should
Imgur: The magic of the Internet
"NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON WHO PAID TO RAPE CHILDREN ON EPSTEIN'S ISLAND HAS BEEN ARRESTED."
Update I don't think "competent" describes the kind of expertise needed to write poetically. I wish I had that.
But does the kind of inconsistency to reality that the Magic House has really bear enough meaning to be called "madness" poetically? And yet things like Lacey's Pet Shop has a similar inconsistency in the faces represented in the glitch segments - I'm so sorry
I wish more than I can "muster" - "mustering" is more like, knowing what exactly people respond to (more so than what actual effort can muster)
This shifting of the hand to 180-degrees of what it is usually as a gesture - my little sister once reacted to it in the car when there was no real given context and said that was "dangerous"
I do wish I knew poetry, because then I could carry on in this state like nothing even matters
Since I *don't*, you get: "ay John, it is fucking - *awful* to see ya stupid ass *face* - whare is my lasaga?"
You can leave
I wish somebody would *help* my ass
When I get up, I want to post *poetry* (would be better than the autistic-level spasms I have in bed)
Sublimity: can I even achieve such a thing?
Update In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a retard, but I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to appreciate
There was a point in time where Filthy Frank ironically said "raise your blades in the air everybody", but if *I* posted that, it would feel like I'm breaking the rules or something
Update Mario B3313-abandoned - do *I* feel abandoned? No.
MGS itself has the quote, he who is able to say enough is enough will always have enough. Can I say enough is enough on drinking already? No, I'm still experimenting.
What's up, nyugguz? Bw*bwbw*bwbwbwbw (yeah)
Update I want someone to intimidate me with BEN DROWNED with a vengeance ( )
Update I'm legitimately too scared to replay Five Nights at Freddy's I don't know what made the difference
I'm trying to judge personally whether or not PSA-type content on drunkenness and dying because of it is accurate as it says or not - current diagnosis says it's exaggerating, because it fixates on the examples of when it does happen
Of course, I'm f'ing 28, so if you're 16, disregard
I really don't have a justification for the sheer numbering of years in my life.
I mean, I *tried* - I keep shilling against the system.
When my whole existence starts to feel like a snowglobe inverting within itself when I close my eyes, that's when I would throw up on 40% ABV or lower from the volume of liquid intake.
I guess in a way you could say, what's so bad about saying what's good, everynigger? But at the same time, I'm including everyone in my audience in what I say. That's different from -
Okay, so so far, my parents haven't gotten on me over not showing up to dinner -
Update Unironically, teeth *clenched* because I'm trying to control myself so hard
Quite the River - Mother 3 (Remastered) - YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-aTJ_rxWd3Q
That doctor in Darling in the FranXX who had 3/4 of a head made into a robot for automating purposes - I relate to that more than what you immediately understand.
Update My parents aren't charging me any rent. I think that's the biggest miracle here. I don't know what it would take to convince me to live in an apartment that charges like $1000 a month. No way.
I'm actually kind of impressed by how much I feel "in orbit" because of the drinking when I close my eyes as opposed to any other time. You don't think it's that bad, until
Update What do you do when you feel like killin' it (Takyon) but you realize you're not that special
In the St. Louis City Museum, they have cylindrical seats that you can spin around in where you let the momentum take over - what do you call that?
I can't into poetry, and that slays me
Yume 2kki's version which was a particular contributor's last version in being included - now it's not even mentioned as to who the user is
My life is a looooong continuum - this doesn't please me
We don't have fun like going to the mini-golf park when the things like water-karts were intact anymore. They had pizza and refillable soft-drinks, and an arcade to go with it, if you had tokens.
My nerves are shot again, and it actually gives me a wonderful sensation.
My dreams include things that you wouldn't expect unless it was a kamikaze-difficulty mod course, but it has more casual things in it too, weirdly enough. I don't know what I'm thinking with this. I'm sorry for bothering people, but at the same time these dreams themselves are particularly profound. I just need a chance to express them, somehow.
I wish, seriously, there was a way to approach this state without this substance - Easterners back in ancient times would do actual drugs, and I don't mean to mention that ironically in any way. Of course it will never be legal in the USA. Even though ecstacy *was*, during the boomers' time. I'm just saying.
I'm just saying, in general, it doesn't seem like more than a midwit IQ is fit for this modern era, unless you're going to give it something more profound for future interpretation!
Update It's by the way that some things can be taken the wrong way into sin that I'm effectively in a prison in my own mind trying to come out with some things, by effect. I've already experienced them, but, too bad.
I did get a YouTube comment once on a video, saying this might be too pleasurable for most people.
And what *is* the point? What is it going to contribute in real life?
Banjo-Tooie: Witchyworld (Wild West Zone) HD - YouTube
Yare yare daze x infinity
Update I don't have anything in taste to say about the fate of the West anymore. Like for example, saying, I hope it turns out well, even in earnest - what if it most seriously doesn't? I can't help that.
Update You know what? I've bought the entirety of Courage the Cowardly Dog and watched it through, but I don't feel like I've really witnessed the horror of Courage the Cowardly Dog. You know what I'm sayin'?
Update I don't want my youth to leave me, but I'm 28.
Update I think at some point - yes, I remember - I got the gold-plated Pokemon card for Pokemon 2000 or Pokemon the first movie, because it was the first showing.
Now, the equivalent of that kind of drama is, life itself has forsaken you, so why don't you just chill for a moment?
(Insert the Nietzschean aspect of that, that kings of their time are expected to "wait")
If I didn't have any spite over that otherwise, there still is the kerfuffle over "mulatto broccoli" Like, this is all you're doing? Okay
Update Asking, what do I want with zoomers, seriously? is like asking, what if I had kids, and wanted to bestow everything I knew upon them? I'm smart, but I'm not that wise
"Aye"
There isn't exactly that much sense where we're coming from. Things like Pokemon legends from the initial movies are just like excuses. But they're cool I guess. Life is a shit, 10 million dead cops etc.
Actually I don't repent. If I could have anything I want without these people I live with that I was spawned from, that would be great.
Update All things considered, do I hate my parents or people like my parents as much as the generic shills hate people like people who hold our politics in general? That would take quite a lot. I honestly don't know what they hold against us.
Update If I was ever to endorse drinking seriously, I would do so in the context of listening to a playlist of one's already-favorited music.
Sometimes I would want to just shut my brain off, and this would be about that time.
Update Like, a lot of my time in elementary school was spent being what 4chins considers a "Kid Pix augur" - do I care what every second of my time amounts to in Clown World? Hell no, like a zoomer
That was back in the early 2000's
Burn, burn, burn, baby burn
At this rate I'm going to unashamedly jerk off to Saya no Uta, and I'll post it
It's true that people who try to "scrap" are dead in the water by now, but really, and honestly, homeschool or bust. I want to go to public school because:
>
I'm evil
Sometimes I feel like I need a more personal presentation than this
What am I going to do with 4TB
Update I can't believe how much time has passed since I've been born (had to redo a letter for every word there) - it's been such a long time
(Give you a comment on the *government* - fuck the government - the government's corrupt)
Life's too slow, but mainly we should stop having politiciians who are patently ugly and jewish
I certainly don't want to show my whole hand at once, but sometimes the situation begs me to show off, because things in general are genuinely mediocre!
Update I'm caught between not giving any cares what people think about what people think about me and having someone I knew personally judging me constantly from having only just started paying attention to my content like several days ago.
It's not just "one man's garbage is another man's treasure" - I can think this shit is sex, but then I'll probably get judged as being trash
If I was really evil, I would just cold-turkey not tell people I have a beer gut - that way they couldn't even say "fat blob says"
Update What if I told you, on account of the quality of advice I've gotten from people altogether, this is a two-bit country we're dealing with altogether!
Update When going through the OSTs I have on my hard drive (without the 4TB external hard drive) - (Link's Awakening, Marin's House) - why?-----------
Things like the owl's theme for the first time - again, if you don't appreciate, I'll come over and kick yer ass - just kidding but same difference
Makes one wonder, has anyone ever honestly posed such an OST in front of someone to do drugs for the first time and say, what do you think of that as an alternative? It's seriously powerful stuff. I've never done drugs.
I don't know why, but there's a feeling that's gone all but unresolved since, when on a bus on a band camp tour, I showed my 3DS to a peer, and they said they were sure they were high when they saw the effect.
It's kind of ironic in a way that, truly, the will for me to pass the torch on in life has more to do with classic videogames than it does with my actual family lineage
My parents have let me down.
Update I don't know. My feelings are mixed. Like, would it prove I'm evil by posting this? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h848dMB0LgU
For some reason, this type of thing speaks to me more than even regular Zelda games. For fans, that should speak volumes
Update Turtle Rock, from that game, is one of those things that makes me wish there were languages to speak in that are universal more so than English
Update Despite the remake, Link's Awakening, the original = underappreciated
Update I'm still just reviewing music to see if anything stands out
Update I don't know why, but I just want to see Siren appreciated like Silent Hill and Resident Evil are.
Update I'm sure by now "gamer" doesn't even enter into the realm of what Siren is thematically.
I don't want to be a narcissist, but there's a realm that even Trump mentioned saying, we don't want to mention it to just everybody; we want to keep that kind of profit to ourselves What - you don't think that kind of thing exists?
Update Okay, so, we got a new authentic Chik-fil-A sauce container in the pantry which can be transferred to the fridge when opened. I want to try it with the pulled pork left over in the fridge, to see if it goes together well.
I don't hate myself, but I really thrust the alcohol upon myself when it comes down to it. Will try downing some actual food in the meantime.
Update I ate all of the pulled pork with a little bit of the Chik-fil-A sauce. What else is left to be eaten with the sauce? Not much.
Update I don't apreciate you if you're a Satanist.
8/18 night AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I played Luigi's Mansion for the first time in my dad's basement compartment in my grandma's basement until like 12AM.
Update And because I can't get into poetry's quality, I can't ad-lib either. But
The entire dichotomy of, all these inventions of landlines and phone services, and most people have nothing to say, and you think that applies to me more so than most other people? I think not, not to be a narcissist, but I have *something*, for goodness' sake
Update I'm going to honestly re-read A Series of Unfortunate Events.
I don't have all the novels, but I'll try.
Update I seriously thought about what that term event means in the first place.
Urban Dictionary: fuck nigga
Honestly, I care less about that kind of thing than I do about being able to be a horror game designer when I feel the mood to do so. I want to be able to pull off a very personal horror vibe when I feel the vibe myself.
Yeah. yeah. yeah. yeah - the author who wrote horror fiction was the same guy to come up with "niggerman" as the name for his cat, and said in addition to that, these black people are the reason the world is more horrific, in the end, than anything he himself could write. Because they're so unpredicatable, I guess.
Ironically, I'm not completely ignorant when it comes to that. I've heard of the trope that African tribes had the highest level of "social" justice between individual people, for what existed among tribes, including white tribes, and so forth. But that still doesn't account for what becomes of them in white societies, hence the "niggerman" naming from the schizophrenic who made "The Pit and the Pendulums" as a novel in the first place. Don't insert your own narrative here. This is priceless.
Update I haven't downed the entire Captain Morgan, but the entire thing is now emptied into my cup.
Update I think I'm tired of drinking. It's almost emptied.
"What Lies in Space" - "phantasmagoria"
but there's much more manly tears to be had with "Get in the Teacup" from Warioland II
Update It's like 2:30 in the morning good God What's good nyugguh?
Update I will see what I can do once i have a 4TB external hard drive at my disposal!
Update Given Cuphead's soundtrack, I'm actually kind of disappointed what kind of reception there it for that sort of thing. I guess there's no such thing as a free lunch! Work hard! Work hard
My mom even thought the composure was cute, but that still doesn't amount to any free lunch! Git gud, git gud
Update even though I don't want to Rainbow Chucklefuck
8/18 I mean, I had nearly the entire Captain Morgan [100-proof], and I clearly got *kind of* drunk, but even that's really just not doing it for me. I'm not joking.
Update After the last posts last night, I probably just lost memory and went to sleep without thinking.
So overall, what are the results?
I think people being in a drunken stupor is a meme. I don't get how that even happens. Even at my worst, I probably just sound like my grandma at the nursing home.
Update The external hard drive arrived just today, even though online it said it would probably get here by next Tuesday.
0 notes
qqweebird · 2 years ago
Text
when i see a t rex size compared to human im like yeah thats normal. ur actually kind of little lol. but when i see how fucking enormous dinosaurs like some hadrosaurs and ceratopsians could get im like… ok fuck off …. why are u massive
1 note · View note
animepopheart · 4 years ago
Text
Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 11: “The Temptation of Death”?
Tumblr media
Wonder Egg Priority is a beautiful, uncomfortable, moving and confusing series that starts out engaging all the things we don’t talk about—self-harm, abuse, rape, bullying, gender dysmorphia, and homosexuality, to name a few. Our silence and blindness to these issues have a weight and pressure to them, and WEP shows how this reinforces the isolation and hopelessness of the young women of the “eggs” who turn to suicide for relief. The first ten episodes have been exhilarating and exhausting alike.
And then there is Episode 11. This past week, the series took a bit of a turn, leaning hard into the sci-fi-philosophical, with appearances from Greek gods, a murderous artificial intelligence, and really, really disturbing insect girls, one of whom, despite being a brutal killer, is apparently a vegetarian. Has the show gone off the rails? Has it lost its way in departing from the familiar procedural approach of engaging a differing social or mental health issue with each episode?
Such a critique is perfectly legit, but before you write off the penultimate episode of WEP, just hear me out on why the abstract, meta turn in episode 11 may just be the most valuable thing this series has to offer so far.
Tumblr media
Before we begin though, a little recap of what we learned this week. In episode 10, we hear the eggheads, Acca and Ura-Acca, discuss the need for warriors of Eros to battle Thanatos. This is our first hint that things are about to get lore-full and maybe a bit weird. Eros and Thanatos are of course gods in the ancient Greek pantheon, Eros being the god of love, and Thanatos, of non-violent death. Within the first minute or so of episode 11, it’s clear that the eggheads’ hope is now focused on Ai becoming the long-awaited warrior. At this point though, rather than continuing with Ai’s story, the episode shifts into flashback mode and we are finally introduced to the villain, an artificial intelligence created by the eggheads back when they were still human. Their lives gradually come to revolve around her: She is the fulfillment of their obsession to create life, and she is good.
Tumblr media
Frill is associated with hydrangeas, which symbolise heartlessness and pride in Japanese flower language. But is it her heartlessness and pride, or that of her makers?
(Atelier Emily has done an outstanding series of posts on the flowers in WEP. Check it out!)
Only, it turns out she doesn’t play so nice when others join the happy family. After killing Acca’s wife, and putting the life of the unborn baby at risk, the AI—who named herself Frill—is unrepentant, all traces of her seeming humanity now revealed to be illusory, a mere affectation. Acca locks her away in a hole in the cellar. Years pass. The baby, Himari, grows up and is a ray of sunshine. But after effectively confessing to her ‘uncle’ (why does anime always do this?), she commits suicide. Ura-Acca discovers that Frill is still very much alive and active from her hole in the cellar, having powered up all the discarded monitors and laid down reams of electrical cables—to what end, we do not yet know. Though Ura-Acca surmises that she has somehow influenced Himari to take her own life. How else would the girl have known about Ura-Acca’s admiration for her mother? Where else would she have learned to make what will forever be to me now that uncannily sinister popping sound?
Here’s where it gets weirder. Unlike the suicides of subsequent egg girls, there is no indication that Himari, Frill’s apparent first victim, struggled with any mental health or other issues that would motivate her to take her own life. Indeed, her ‘uncle’ did not even reject her confession. (Again anime, why you do this thing?) Instead, the eggheads explain Himari’s suicide as being on account of the “temptation of death.” What now?
This is implying that death is somehow attractive, not just to someone facing overwhelming brokenness, trauma or pain, like the egg girls we’ve met so far, but to someone on the verge of stepping from a (relatively) happy childhood into young adulthood, with the promise of potential love to look forward to; someone who has not known suffering, but rather only smiles and cake. (To be fair, it is always possible that she experienced trauma in the womb, or was more deeply affected by her father’s sadness than Ura-Acca’s memories belie.)
Tumblr media
That’s my question too, Ai.
The notion of death as somehow attractive or even beautiful is rather alien to Western culture. Certainly, there will always be some who romanticize death, à la star-crossed lovers (Shakespeare, I’m looking at you). But in general, Western culture views death as something ugly and frightening, something to avoid until it is staring you directly in the face, and even then, closing your eyes in denial is a perfectly reasonable response. Death is one of those things we don’t talk about. In my experience, Anglo-American culture is not very good at even mourning death. We lack the grieving rituals and observances of other cultures, and instead seek to confine death to the sealed, sanitized spaces of hospitals, care homes, and funeral parlors. We keep it shrouded tightly in silence. How could there ever be anything like the “temptation of death”? How could we ever consider death to be something desirable? Are the eggheads or CloverWorks simply aestheticising suicide and death here to make it sound deep and philosophical?
No, I don’t think that’s it. Instead, Acca and Ura-Acca are doing what all good researchers do—and indeed what all Christians, as believers in an unseen spiritual reality, are also called to do: They are looking more deeply into phenomena that seem, on the surface, to already be explained. The two idol fans were consumed with their obsession, so when their idol killed herself, they followed suit. The young woman whose identity was wrapped up in her own appearance ended her life to preserve her beauty. The abused gymnast saw no way out, no hope in ever living free from torment. Some explanations may be more sympathetic than others, but they all possess their own internal logic. Contemporary society is full of a vast array of pressures and stresses and each one, taken to breaking point, can result in death. Case closed. This might very well be our conclusion from the first ten episodes.
Only the case isn’t closed. Because there is a question that has pervaded every episode until now, but has remained unspoken: How is it that death could even become an option for the egg girls? Why does reaching a breaking point trigger suicide? What made death seem like a savior to these girls? This is the question that episode 11 tackles, in its own admittedly obscure way. The eggheads are focused on the underlying, deeper reality that unites all the eggs’ stories, as disparate as they are—the common thread, which is the idea that death is a release, a rescue, a beautiful ending, and as a result, it is tempting.
Tumblr media
“But we wondered if there could be another push that drove them to suicide,” explains Ura-Acca.
This is a really important question for us to be asking. Because it’s not just these traumatized, vulnerable girls who fall for the seduction of death. We do, too.
Just ponder for a moment: Have you ever anticipated how wonderful it will be when, in heaven, you no longer struggle with that particular temptation? When your temper is no longer so short, when you’re not afraid of being hurt anymore? Or maybe you think about how one day, on those gold-paved streets, you won’t have to worry anymore. All your hard work coping and just keeping it together will finally pay off and you’ll cross that finish line and heave a sigh of relief, knowing that you made it in the end. Have you ever contemplated these kinds of things? I know I have.
But here’s the thing: When I expect my liberation to come only after I die and not right here, right now, then it is not Jesus who is my savior, but death. I am waiting for death to free me from temptation and sin and fear and brokenness, and usher me into eternal life. I make Thanatos my god.
The temptation of death is not limited to the drastic act of suicide, but also permeates all the accusations and fears that inspire us to put off living the fullness of life in Christ here and now. It’s the temptation to believe that it is death that will ultimately solve the more difficult and painful problems in life.
Tumblr media
Acca and Ura-Acca seek to create a love that suits their ideals, just to relieve their stress.
The source of this “temptation of death” in Wonder Egg Priority is Frill, the AI. That is, a man-made, artificial version of love—with ai meaning “love” in Japanese. According to Ura-Acca, they made her “just for fun,” as a way of dealing with the stress of their enclosed lives. They designed her to suit their preferences, to make it easier to love her and forget that she was artificial. In this sense, Frill is the fruit of their self-centeredness, her every characteristic designed to satisfy their own ideals of how a daughter and woman should be. And this artificial love born of selfishness brings death into their midst and beyond, spreading it through the horrendous deformities of girlhood that she in turn creates, in imitation of her fathers. (Only perhaps her creations are less deceptive than theirs, wearing their monstrosity plainly on the outside…)
Tumblr media
Frill’s creations. We’ve met Dash (right) and Dot (center), but who is that on the left? And is her name Morse??
To counter her destructive influence, Acca and Ura-Acca need true love, a genuine love. They need Ai, a messy, at times very weak human being, but one who nevertheless is willing to fight to live up to her name and maybe, just maybe, become a warrior of Eros.
There is also a deep, underlying force at work in our world, one that connects all despair and the actions born of it. A wide range of social issues, traumas and mental health challenges can and do trigger suicide, but they do not explain it fully. The deeper reality is the existence of an enemy who seeks to manipulate us into believing our true savior can only be death, whether it is right away by our own hand, or more subtly, decades from now by natural causes. But this is a lie, and it is one that we can combat. Just as I’m sure we’ll see in the final episode that Ai is equipped to wage the coming battle in WEP, so too are we armed, here and now, with the power to overwhelm the enemy’s “temptation of death”—we possess already the words of life, given to us by our true savior.
Jesus began his ministry with a public announcement that he had come to heal heart wounds, comfort those in pain, fill broken lives with beauty, and wrap those in despair with reasons to praise like a warm protective blanket, so that they might celebrate with joy once again. He came to bring freedom to prisoners and captives alike, giving a fresh new life to those locked up because of deeds done wrong, and those punished and injured at the hands of others. He came to take the outcasts, the weak, the traumatized and broken and transform them into mighty oaks, clean and strong; into people with the vision and skill and compassion and fortitude to rebuild a broken world (Isaiah 61:1-4, Luke 4:18),
He came to rewrite and restore our experience of life here on earth, and through us, to redeem our communities, cities, nations, and the world. God does not withhold the fullness of life from us until we finally make it to him in heaven. No, instead he moved heaven and earth to get right up close so that he could pour his own life out into us, even going so far as to breathe his very spirit into our hearts and bodies and minds. We don’t need to wait for death’s rescue—our hero has already come. But we do need to remind each other and ourselves of this truth pretty often, and let it work down deep into all the cracks and bruises in our souls until it strengthens all our weak spots.
In Deuteronomy 30:19, God tells the Israelites that he has given them the authority to choose between life and death. But he also tips the balances in their favor, urging them to choose life. In Jesus, he comes to tip the balances even further, making it possible for us to step into eternal life here and now, immediately and forever. So let’s do it. Each day, through each struggle we face. Let’s choose life and not death.
Tumblr media
Warrior of love? And is Ai’s himawari (sunflower) related to Himari somehow?
Join me (in spirit) for the final episode on Tuesday to see Ai’s love triumph! (At least, I really really hope that’s what happens!)
90 notes · View notes
Text
Check Ignition: Part IX
That Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts au that one person asked for and I dove into headfirst
First part // Previous part // Next part
This fic is wrapping up and I love writing longform, so send me your new requests! (or ideas for oneshots, I love those too)
Robbe was ashamed to admit many of the things that made his apartment home. Here it was, the truth of it: everything here was in some way tainted by sickness. He didn’t talk about it while he was at school. He didn’t talk about school while he was here. It made sense to keep the two lives distinctly separate, save from a few consolation sessions with Jens and the occasional fact for Sander.
He bumped his shoulders on the narrow doorframe as he lugged his trunk inside, his mother right behind him. In the entryway, on a tiny side table, three bottles of prescription medication waited their arrival. Each had a sticky note designating the time of next dose. Past that, the hall led straight to a kitchen at its end. Three rooms—two bedrooms, one bathroom—broke off before then. Their living room branched from the kitchen, big enough for a couch and a flatscreen TV as well as a small-ish Christmas tree.
This apartment worked in a way that his friends’ magic-filled homes did not. Sure, when his father was around, they never did the dishes manually or resorted to blankets when the heating went out, but it wasn’t what Jens had. Perhaps that was why Robbe did not see Jens much over the holidays.
Robbe crossed the threshold to his bedroom and dropped his things on his bed. His thoughts returned, as they were wont to do, to Sander. Sander must be all alone at Hogwarts right now. Robbe didn’t know what to make of him.
“It’s Christmas,” said Robbe aloud to jar himself from that rabbit trail. He put away everything that mattered. Scattered everything that didn’t across the floor. There, now it felt like his dormitory at school.
Against his better judgement, he scrawled out something on a scrap of paper. Maybe if he could contact Sander, things would make more sense. Or maybe he was stupid. Either way. A simple tracking spell, an open window, and it would zip its way to its recipient at Hogwarts. He doubted he’d get in trouble for such a simple use of underage magic.
Happy Christmas. Sorry you have to spend it alone. Yeah, it totally didn’t sound sarcastic.
Robbe let the message go. He watched it disappear over the London skyline, dancing above the twinkling lights of the city. This view had nothing on the view from Hogwarts. After that, he was exhausted from exams week. He curled up on his mattress—the sheets on this one were a nice touch—and went right to sleep. There was time for life to happen tomorrow, and he didn’t fancy making conversation with his mother so soon into their two weeks of forced proximity.
***
Robbe spent most of the next days hiding out in his bedroom. Jens took care of his required communication rather early in their separation; the owl arrived at Robbe’s window before lunchtime the second day: Robbe, my parents invited Jana for Christmas dinner. She'd going to be there. Please inform me of your plans as soon as possible, so I can join you instead. Not really. I honestly think we're going to get back together. Wow, it sounds dumb as I write it. Have a Happy Christmas, if I don't write again before then, and make sure you eat all your vegetables. Love, Jens. Robbe hastily scrawled a reply and sent it right back: Jens, I never have any plans. You can come whenever you want to. Love, Robbe.
Around dinnertime on the fourth day, Robbe walked back into the hallway and down to the kitchen, where his mother poured hot chocolate powder in two mugs. She dumped a can of soup into a pot and set it to simmer on the burner, stirring occasionally, while she microwaved a measuring cup of water. Something rammed into the window at full force, startling her into dropping her spoon.
She put a hand on her forehead as if checking for fever. “Robbe, what was that?”
“Owl, Mom,” said Robbe. He tried not to be frustrated with her. There was just so much on his plate, and he wasn’t supposed to be here, because he was supposed to be with Sander at school. If Sander was doing okay.
Robbe’s mother had never gotten the hang of a magical household. Robbe didn’t have the right to be bitter about it.
“Should I open the window?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
His mother slid the window open. A barn owl flapped into the apartment building, despite their landlord’s explicit animal-of-any-kind prohibition. It landed on top of their refrigerator and ruffled its brown and white feathers. Clutched in its beak was a folded piece of parchment, tied with a long twine thread, sealed with a stamp of red wax. Robbe recognized the owl from the Hogwarts owlery. They were general-use.
He jumped up to take the note. Jens did not usually send two owls in one day. Aaron’s owl was white.
“I’ll never get used to that,” said his mother as the owl flew back out the window. An alarm on her cell phone beeped several times. “Oh, pills. I’ll be right back.” She rushed into the foyer.
Robbe surveyed the apartment in her absence. A sprig of mistletoe hung over the space connecting the kitchen to the living room. Several wrapped presents rested beneath the tree, one or two with his name in brightened cursive that he could see from this far away. He spotted the special picture ornament he made for his mother when he was little, the photograph of her and him riding on a swing in a public park. They used to get along.
He looked down at the paper in his hands and broke the seal.
There were no words written. Only a telephone number. Jens and Aaron did not have phones in their houses; muggle technology was useless in areas permeated with magic. Moyo owned one for clout purposes, sometimes, and this could be him—except, he did not use the school’s owls if he could help it. He borrowed from Jens.
That left one person who might want to contact Robbe.
“Alright, soup,” said his mother, reentering the kitchen. “Tonight, I was thinking we should catch up on TV. Honestly, I don’t know how you survive without it at Hogwarts.”
“There are other things to do,” said Robbe.
“Maybe, but not as exciting.” She took the soup pot from the burner and poured it into two bowls, which she then carried into the living room. They stored a small folding table under the couch. She set it up like a coffee table and left their bowls there. If they had any class, they might have the money to afford something made of wood, at least.
“Can I actually—” Robbe began. He gestured to the phone number.
“You’re spending your quality time with me,” said his mother. She patted the spot beside her on the couch. “C’mon. I’ve been recording everything. Oh, hang on.” She waited until he sat down to lean over. “What’s been going on at school. Tell me all about it. You never write.”
“You never got used to owls.”
“That’s an awful reason.”
“Nothing important happens,” he assured her. “I’d write if it mattered.”
“Nothing? No one special?”
“No, Mom, nothing you’d want to hear about.”
“You know I don’t believe that,” she said. “Handsome boy like you.” But she sat back and turned on the television. Christmastime here was TV shows, silence, dancing around one another. This was why Robbe would’ve liked to stay on campus with Sander, when Sander still wanted him there. If Sander ever wanted him there. They watched three whole episodes of Call the Midwife without saying a single word to each other.
Robbe’s mother was a good person. He knew she was a good person. She tried so hard to be things for him, to be involved in his life. He understood her illness wasn’t her fault at a basic level. He understood that he was wrong to be angry about an innocent, poking question that any parent would have likely posed.
But there was a part of him missing that she couldn’t give back after she’d taken it. What kind of parent leaves their fourteen-year-old in the house to care for everything while she lies in bed all summer? What kind of parent—
There was someone special, there was Sander. Sander and his mother were apart because they needed to be, because school and home did not mix.
Robbe rose from the couch during the credits of the third and motioned apologetically to his mother. He pointed toward the bathroom. On the way there, he snatched her phone from the kitchen counter. His fingers shook as he dialed the number.
Someone picked up on the second ring. “I just got home,” said Robbe. He didn’t know why he felt so bad about not calling sooner.
“You got my letter,” said Sander. Robbe’s heart turned into a dozen origami butterflies. He tried to catch them in a net and stomp them underfoot.
“Owls are cool,” Robbe said.
“How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
“Good.”
“Good.”
The line went silent. Was that it? Did Sander send a whole-ass latter to hear Robbe’s voice for two seconds? Kind of romantic, yes, but it didn’t do anything to fix anything. Robbe couldn’t reconcile the way Sander spoke to him with the way Sander acted around him, the way Sander acted around other people.
This could have been their time. Two whole weeks of kissing, or whatever it was couples did went they were unsupervised.
“Listen,” said Sander. “I’ve been thinking.” His sentences took on a sort of pregnant quality, as if each contained multitudes more within it. Sander was fighting down dozens of others to say each one.
“About what?”
“About, um, you. I guess.” Sander cleared his throat. “You really liked me?”
“I guess so.”
“How is—how’s your mother?”
Robbe didn’t know where something like that would come from. “She’s fine for now. We’re watching Call the Midwife.”
Sander’s laugh sounded forced. “My mother likes that too. Is it… not good to be there?”
“Well, she hasn’t drowned me in a bathtub yet. You sound like you have something to say.”
“I was thinking we could just—talk.”
What the hell was this? “Sander,” said Robbe, doing his very best to sound like a prefect. “It was a Christmas card. If you have something to say—” He tried to channel the voice Jens used when he was disappointed after a Quidditch match, the kind of steely cool that could only come from a place of care. As it was, he knew Sander could hear the hope festering beneath his skin. He wants to tell me he loves me.
“I—I don’t have anything to say,” said Sander, but it was an obvious lie.
“Then I’ll hang up.” Robbe braced himself against the bathroom counter. Polished marble reflected his face almost as clearly as the mirror ahead. “I said I didn’t want to be friends. I can’t handle being friends yet.”
“No, don’t hang up.”
“Any more questions about Mom?”
Sander’s breath caught. “You don’t like me.”
“Not this again.”
“No, really, you don’t.” Sander spoke faster. “You said so. I don’t know, when it was fake, I thought—” He coughed. “I can’t go back to nothing.”
“I said I liked you,” said Robbe. “You don’t make any sense.”
“Yes, but—”
“Did you really send an owl back to talk me out of a crush? Or are you in love with my mom?”
“No, I—”
“Good.” Robbe knocked his toothbrush cup off the sink, sending it clattering to the floor. He heard his mother shifting around in the living room, poised to come check on him any minute. This conversation would have to end sooner rather than later. “I have to go. If you’ve still got something, spit it out.”
There were a few seconds of silence. Robbe could hear the beginnings of a sentence several times, nothing quite reaching the air.
“Okay,” he said. “Goodbye.” He tapped the end button. That might have been a little harsh, yes, but it was Christmas. The couch and Call the Midwife awaited. He rejoined his mother in the living room, leaving her cell phone plugged into its charger beside their toaster.
They watched another whole episode. It pained him to think of her loitering about the house while he was gone, rearranging the cabinets and recording television shows, even if he hated the thought of staying with her more. He didn’t get Sander’s interest… come to think of it, Sander was concerned about her during their make-out session in the workshop.
The phone started ringing.
“I’ve got it,” said Robbe, before his mother could get off the couch. This time, he took it all the way to his bedroom and locked the door to answer it.
Sander was quieter this time. “You called the number.”
“It would have been rude not to. You didn’t sign it. It could have been anybody.”
“You knew who it was.”
There wasn’t much to say to that, so Robbe waited instead of responding. Sander filled the gap after a while, in something even smaller than a whisper, something that sent shivers down Robbe’s spine. “I miss you.” A whistle sounded somewhere in the distance.
Too much. Ugh, why did Robbe think he could handle something like this? He did what he always did when Sander was involved: he was honest. “Look, you don’t make any sense to me. I hear from Noor that you’re head-over-heels in love with me, I hear from you that you’re back with Britt. Well, you’re not, so I’m hearing you’re a liar, too.” Robbe bit his lip to keep from getting choked up. “We barely even had anything, Sander, but I loved every second. You can’t keep pulling on my strings, okay? I can’t handle it.”
“I don’t mean to be pulling,” said Sander. Something ruffled against the receiver. “Your mother, though, she—”
“Good, then don’t bother calling again unless you have something new to tell me. Goodbye.” Robbe smashed the end button this time, scratching the screen protector with his nail. He promised himself he’d fix it later, provided no one got him trouble for his magical Christmas card to Sander.
Back into the living room. His mother lay down across all the cushions and monopolized the space. She pulled a crocheted blanket across her legs, her eyes glassy as she stared at the TV. Robbe flashed back to his worst year again—getting up for school and seeing her there, unmoving.
The last Christmas they spent together, her medication mixture made her violently ill at the slightest hint of indigestion. That could happen this year, it could. There was too much going on in Robbe’s life to deal with her right now.
They’d make blueberry pancakes together. She’d microwave soup for dinner. This was his life.
The phone screen lit up once more with an incoming call from the number as before. Robbe let it ring out. Another came. When he let that ring, another. He answered on Sander’s fifth attempt.
“Please don't hang up this time. Your mother is sick,” blurted Sander on the other end, almost as if he read Robbe’s mind. If his speech was unhinged earlier, now it was a runaway train. “She’s sick and you hate her and I’m sick so you’ll hate me. That was it.” He took a deep breath and the phone line crackled—Hogwarts wouldn’t have the best reception, would it? “I have liked you for forever, okay? That’s my something new.”
Wow. Okay. What the fuck.
“What?” managed Robbe.
“That’s what I needed to say. Before. You don’t like me because you can’t. It has to be over because it can’t ever happen.” Sander’s voice lowered. “I thought it might hurt you less if you knew. But I also can't sit around and pretend that nothing's wrong.”
Robbe rehashed every conversation they ever had in a second. He did not talk about his mother much in any of those—he tried to keep her out of it. She frustrated him to no end. Her stupid pills, the stupid genetics that doomed him to a future of dealing with the same problems, his stupid father walking out. If it wasn’t for her, everything would be fine. But he didn’t—he didn’t hate her.
Why would Sander think he hated her? What was going on?
The library, the offhand comment on Lexapro. The workshop, how he said he didn’t want to return to her because she’d ruin Christmas. The way he referred to her on his and Sander’s second astronomy tower rendezvous: “sick in the head.” Every little thought he had about her.
“It was always going to be like this,” said Sander. Wind blew against his end of the phone; Robbe had to strain to hear most of the words. “I thought when it was fake, it could be okay, because, well, you know, but then you kissed me and I just—There’s no hiding it forever, is there? It's got to come out.”
“What did you say about my mom?” Robbe demanded.
“I stopped it because it isn't what you want.”
More than that. Britt came to Robbe in the astronomy tower with a slip of paper and a warning of sorts—He isn’t going to tell you. And what had Willem said to his friends, when Sander was asleep the day after they kissed? Was that something that just happened? Were there times that Willem couldn’t wake Sander up?
Robbe knew what that meant. Britt’s voice echoed in his head. It’s hard to tell between what he wants and what’s a symptom. He’d thought it controlling at the time, and it was, but he also understood the feeling. When you loved someone, you wanted to keep them safe. Robbe was a certified idiot. Puzzle pieces falling into place.
Sander did not slow down. “You were going to stay here with me to avoid being there with her. But we’re the same. We’ve always been the same. It’s bipolar, Robbe, and it’s fine that you don’t want it. What matters is that I can’t live with nothing from you, okay? We can’t just not talk.”
Robbe’s hand went numb from gripping the phone so hard.
“I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want you to hate me like you hate your mom.”
“I don’t hate my mom,” said Robbe. “I won’t hate you—don’t hate you.” He felt bewildered, standing in the middle of his living room, with this crisis happening a whole train ride away. What the fuck was going on? His mother raised her eyebrow at him from her position on the couch.
“You do, you said so. And you’d hate me. I didn’t want to upset you, I didn’t—” Something in the background blared, loud enough to mask the rest of Sander’s sentence. Wind? Rain?
“Where are you?” Robbe asked. Britt’s piece of paper—what did it say? He should have taken the time to set it aside, stupid stupid stupid—
“This was stupid,” said Sander, suddenly even more rushed. “I’m sorry. I should have sent another letter. I let Jens talk me into it—” Robbe waved his wand in the general direction of his bedroom—the Ministry of Magic could expel him for underage sorcery—and summoned Britt’s paper. Still a mess of cursive lines. Still blurry.
His mother made a face like, is everything okay? He nodded back.
“I’m putting too much on you,” Sander continued on the phone. “I don’t want to be another thing you have to worry about. That’s why it has to be over. We’re over. But I don’t want to never hear from you again. That’s not what I want.”
“Are you alright?” Robbe whispered.
“I’m fine. I’m, out--” Sander sounded a million miles away in a snowstorm. The end of the sentence got lost. "Moyo and Jens said you'd be here, and free, so...I'm in love with you. This is my something new." The line clicked dead, although Robbe couldn't tell if it was Sander's decision to end the call or fate had intervened. His arms dropped to his sides, the phone to the floor. Something sounded at the door to the apartment. A knock? Robbe remained rooted to the spot.
There wasn't a list he could put together for this situation. He did not hate his mother. Sometimes he hated her. He hated what her disorder did to her. He hated coming home and finding her somewhere, not doing anything, holding a glass of water without the will to bring it to her lips. He hated having to search all the cabinets for bowls when she reorganized their kitchen at three in the morning. Everything he said to Sander, he meant. Everything about her. That could be number one on the list. Number two, he loved Sander. Sometimes he convinced himself he didn't. He thought of his mother wasting away on their couch, lying about taking her pills, camping out on the bathroom floor during rough weeks. Home and school were supposed to be separate. He did not want to think of Sander throwing up blueberry pancakes after taking a handful of pills. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He needed time to think.
The knocking came again, harder. Robbe walked over as if in a dream, barely touching the floor. He vaguely remembered Jens saying something in his letter about visiting, though this seemed short notice. He only said yes to the proposition because he knew Jens would never actually make good on the offer. Robbe opened the door to Sander, hair ruffled, eyes wild. Fucking Sander. What the fuck. Sander's brown roots were more visible than the bleach blond, even though they did not seem to be any longer. He wore the same leather jacket as their first date wrapped tight around his shoulders. In one hand, he held Moyo's broomstick— Robbe could recognize it by the scrapes on the wood. He had the same look on his face that he had that night in the dormitories when he was drunk and reaching out for Robbe. This wasn't happening. What the hell was happening?
"We need to talk to each other," said Sander, without pause for breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about everything, and I'll ruin anything else, I know I will, but you have to tell me we can."
12 notes · View notes
doberbutts · 4 years ago
Text
These two lines keep pinging around in my head and really resounded with me. I am not a breeder and don’t want to be, but as someone who supports responsible dog breeding I feel it’s also my duty to educate myself on the ins and outs of the dog breeding world and.
Fae’s breeder has a resolute opinion that their job as a breeder of companion dogs is to strive for the goal of breeding dogs that one has to take to the vet as little as possible.
An aspiring breeder of working dogs on here (cannot remember username- if you’re reading this let me know and I will tag you!!) has stated they feel their job as a dog breeder is to make things easier for them as a dog trainer.
I find both statements admirable.
By this point everyone knows that the vast overwhelming majority of dog owners are “pet people”. Like it or not, in the modern age, any dog’s primary usage is to be a companion. For most dogs, the days of simply being a tool to be taken out and used when required and then put away are gone. For better or for worse, dogs whose sole purpose is to work are a dying breed.
Everyone wants a healthy pet. No one actually enjoys preventable vet visits. The vets don’t enjoy it- they’d rather your animals be healthy and happy. Tiki’s specialist’s farewell to me was “I say this lovingly, but I hope we do not meet again.” This woman makes a living off of treating dying dogs. She is good at what she does, one might even say she enjoys certain aspects of her job... but I’m sure she’d also rather a day when her services are no longer required, and she no longer has to witness the heartbreak of the owners as their dogs’ bodies stop fighting. The owners don’t enjoy it- spending a lot of money fighting a repetitive or losing battle is hard enough when you don’t have an emotional attachment to a positive outcome. Dogs are our families, our friends. It hurts us when they hurt. It hurts us when they die. Especially if it’s too soon, or an ugly death, or something that could have been prevented with a little forethought. The dogs don’t enjoy it- think of all the dogs that have become resentful of the vet or even car rides in general because of the amount of repetitive and occasionally painful care. They cannot understand that the vet is a friend and does not want to hurt them. All they know is that’s the place they go when they’re hurting and in distress, occasionally to experience more hurt and distress.
Someone breeding responsibly should be striving to prevent this as much as possible. To do otherwise, to ignore the health concerns simply so they can chase a ribbon or a trophy, is reprehensible. Everyone wants the dog that they have to take in yearly for a physical and boosters and then not have to worry about anything else until the dog is like 18 and already on death’s doorstep.
But everyone also wants a well behaved pet. While different people have different ideas of what that means, some of these ultra intense working dogs simply will never be that ideal of a well behaved low effort pet. Your choice as a breeder of these types of dogs is to either:
never sell to pet homes- Creed’s breeder does this, all of her dogs are only sold to people who will work them, because they cannot be in the majority of pet homes or they will turn into monsters.
either breed control back into your intense dogs or dumb down the intensity to make them easier to handle, while risking giving up the podium you chase in the mean time
And this ties back to two revolving conversations with myself that I always have on here.
Is it okay that a breed has lost its working purpose, as long as most of the temperament and appearance and what makes the breed special is preserved in pet-oriented homes?
Even breeders of pet dogs should be verifying temperament and obedience potential, because everyone wants a well behaved dog.
As I continue to work with Fae, I am continuously impressed and astounded with just how much she’s willing to learn and push through and grasp compared to the majority of puppies that come through my training ring. Some of these puppies are responsibly bred, but not with the idea of breeding nice companions. It seems that somewhere along the way, we forgot to breed for the ideal that most people want in a dog- an easily trained, well behaved companion dog that’s at least willing to tolerate the presence of others as neutral if not outright friendly.
IDK just... this idea that dogs are dogs are dogs seem to have permeated every part of the dog world and I admire those who have taken the time to at least try to breed for better, even if others disagree with the way they do so.
117 notes · View notes
starlightsearches · 4 years ago
Text
The Runaway — Chapter 1
Tumblr media
It was supposed to be like any other bounty. Just another job. But when Din Djarin meets a runaway trying to escape a tragic past and a bleak   future, everything changes.
Masterlist
Din Djarin x f!reader (no y/n)
Series Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, mentions of abuse.
AN: In honor of the season 2 trailer dropping today, here’s the first chapter of my new fic! Please be mindful of the warnings—this story is going to deal with some pretty heavy themes in terms of abuse and revenge. Also, the reader is described as having a scar near their collar bone, but that’s the only physical description I’ll be giving! Thanks for reading!
Din can't stop to catch his breath, not when he's finally got you in his sights again, but gods, it feels like his lungs are on fire. He had been skeptical when he first saw the puck—how had someone like you been able to evade the Guild for this long?—but now he thinks he’s finally starting to get it. He was wrong to underestimate you.
You weave through the stacks of discarded junk, turning corners, leaping over obstacles, always just out of reach, and Din's hand itches for his blaster. He wouldn't kill you, obviously, but right now he's willing to consider anything that might stop this chase. It's only Greef's voice, echoing in his head on repeat that stops him. Unharmed. Not a scratch. He had been warned that the bounty would be heavily reduced if you came back with even a minor injury. But maybe the threat of it would slow you down.
Din removes his blaster from the holster, gripping it hard in a leather-clad hand just as you turn another corner, venturing deeper into the junkyard maze. He catches the flash of your eyes just before you disappear again, and he knows that you've seen the weapon. It was only for a moment that your eyes meet his through the mask, but a moment is all it takes for him to see it. You're terrified. Terrified of him.
"I won't hurt you," he calls out, before he remembers himself, remembers that's not a promise that he can afford to make, "just stop running." Din follows you around the corner before sliding to a halt; he had thought you were following a path you knew well, but you must have taken the wrong turn because you've found a dead end. You're backed against a wall of ship parts and refuse, breathing hard, looking feral—a caged animal. Din keeps his blaster lowered, but he's cautious in his approach. He's seen that look before. It's a look that gets rookie bounty hunters killed on the first job. They're fooled into thinking that it's the size of their target that makes them a threat, but they're wrong. It's always in the eyes.
He can finally get a good look at you, now that you're trapped with nowhere to go. He hardly recognizes you from the holo on your puck—if you hadn't tried to slip from the cantina the second you caught sight of him, he could have missed you completely. It's not just age either, although the holo is clearly a few years old. That girl, with her harmless features and demure smile, wouldn't have lasted a week in this city. You, on the other hand, you look like you could run the place.
"Don't fight and I won't shoot," he inches closer, waiting to see if you'll make your move, but you balance on the knife-edge of action and surrender. "I can bring you in warm," he continues out of habit, in the same calm, commanding tone, hoping to tip the scales in favor of the latter, "or cold."
The moments pass in silence, just the sound of your breathing and the quiet scuttle of whatever creatures lurked in a dump like this. Your eyes grow wide as you contemplate your options, the emotions so clear on your face it’s almost like Din can hear your thoughts—you still want to run. Then something inside of you breaks; your resolve crumbles. "Please," you beg him, your bottom lip quivering as you drop your head in submission. The fight leaves you immediately, and its absence shrinks you, makes you fold in on yourself, looking small—defenseless. Din is struck with the uncomfortable reminder that you're not a typical bounty. You're not a bail jumper. You're not some criminal. You're just a runaway.
He holsters the blaster before he approaches and cuffs you as gently as he can, ignoring the way you tremble, the shuddering tearless sobs that break through your parted lips. It's part of the job. He can handle it.
"Please," you beg once more. He’s caught up in your eyes like a magnet, eyes so full of pain and a fear so potent that he almost considers letting you go. Almost. He banishes the idea with a deep breath and a short tug on the binders, pulling you along behind him for the trek back to the Crest. The word stays with him, though, playing through his mind in time with every step: please, please, please. It isn't until much later that he realizes exactly what you were asking for.
You don't speak once you arrive back at the ship. There's no more begging, no crying, no chatter. You've retreated deep inside yourself and all that's left is a stony exterior. Normally, he'd be grateful for the quiet. He should be grateful for the quiet. So why he feel the need to keep checking on you over his shoulder?
Din leads you to your seat in the cockpit and you take it, your empty eyes trained on the viewport as he prepares for take-off. He catches himself staring, once, twice, three times before he manages to snap out of it. You're fine. He doesn't need to worry. And he doesn't want you to catch him looking. Not that it would matter if he stared at you outright; you won't even look at him.
"I'll be taking you to Nevarro. Your father will meet us there." His words catch your attention, and now you return his gaze with force.
"Did you meet with my father-" something changes when you speak—suddenly you’re staring at him with a look that could start fires, "-when you accepted this job?" The uncomfortable feeling deep in the pit of Din's stomach only grows, a sickening shiver that worms its way under his beskar and spreads over his skin like a poison.
"No." Din distracts himself, taking his seat and checking his controls, "I was hired through the Bounty Hunter's Guild." He had hoped to escape the pressure of your eyes, but he can’t hide from the heat of it, heat like the forge in the armory. It’s permeated the air of the cockpit, heavy and inescapable.
You only hum in response, a sound that generates thousands of questions for Din that he's not sure how to ask, but you take his silence as an opportunity to ask more questions of your own. "Did they tell you why I ran away? Or why my father was so adamant that I came back in one piece?"
Din manages to shake his head in response, and seeing it, you relax the smallest amount. You speak with a voice that stays calm and clear, "My father didn't want anyone else to kill me because he wants to do it himself."
Din's blood is ice in his veins. There’s a gasp, or maybe a cry that wants to force its way out of his throat, but what comes out instead is only a question, "How do you know that?" The Razor Crest is ready for take off, but Din hesitates with his hand over the lift-off control. Seconds pass by, stretching out into an eternity as he contemplates what you just said. He wants to do it himself. It’s not possible. It couldn’t be true. Slowly, Din drops his hand, turning in his seat to face you.
You try to hide it—the relief that you feel, knowing that he'll listen, that he might believe you—but you haven’t masked it entirely, and, unfortunately for Din, the sincerity of your demeanor only chips away at more of his doubt. You shift forward in your seat, the move made a little more difficult by the bindings, but you manage. "I know because he told me so." Your voice is laden with power, your words spoken so vehemently that they carry their own weight. You want him to believe you so badly, but a part of Din, the part that craves distance—the part that needs these credits—wishes he could believe that you were lying.
He watches as your cuffed hands crawl up your torso, towards the neckline of your tunic, inching it down to expose more of your skin. A jagged scar grows from the hem of your collar, stark against the skin around it. "He gave me this-" you say, gesturing to the mark with a jut of your chin, "-the last time I saw him. Told me that when he found me he was going to finish the job. He's a cruel man. He won't be quick about it. He'll want to see me suffer."
Your eyes remain fathomless as you look back at Din, so matter-of-fact about this threat on your life, but Din can't pull his own eyes away from the scar. His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s still loud enough that a tremble can be heard through the vocoder when he asks, "why are you telling me this?"
"Because I think you can help me." There's a slight release when he hears those words—just the barest ease of the pressure on his chest. There's a solution to this problem, a way he can be absolved of any guilt for what's happened to you, the part he unwittingly played. He'd miss out on his payday, but at least he wouldn't wake up every night in a cold sweat. At least he wouldn't be haunted by the sight of that scar. By your fire-starting gaze.
"I'll take you somewhere—wherever you want to go." Din turns back to the control panel, bringing the ship up, running through a mental list of planets where he could leave you, somewhere you could be safe. He's pulled from his focus with a slight tug, your hand on his shoulder, the touch heavy, and intense, like he can feel every one of your fingers digging into his skin through the pauldron.
"It won't work. He'll keep sending people after me. People like you. I'm tired of running." The pressure is back on Din’s chest, with a crushing, bruising force. It's not that you're hopeless. That might, somehow, make this more bearable. No, you're not hopeless. All your hope is in him.
"Then what do you want me to do?" Din already knows. He already knows, but he hopes he doesn't. He hopes you'll ask something else from him. Anything else.
"Isn't it obvious?" you ask, reading him without seeing the droplets of sweat at his temples, the way he tugs his lip between his teeth, "I want you to—how did you put it?—'bring me in cold.'"
62 notes · View notes
rametarin · 3 years ago
Text
And further thoughts about the yaoi paddles.
If you’re under 20, and just now learning that fandom seniors in their late 20s, 30s, 40s, even low 50s, used to run around slapping eachother on the ass with yaoi paddles in anime and comic conventions after anime became a household media staple, you probably have.. questions.
You’re probably thinking, “Wow!! It was really lawless and anarchistic back then, wasn’t it! They never heard about personal space or sexual harassment laws! SOCIETY must have been SO different, back then!”
NO. I cannot stress enough, the Yaoi Paddle phenomenon was borne PURELY because the demographic MOST LIKELY to protest and be wet blankets about everything fun and sexual and admittedly VERY SKETCHY sometimes in fiction, and ALWAYS bad in reality.. turned off and said virtually nothing. Wokesters that’d protest about the environment and sexual assault against women would take off their Problem Glasses by night and act like paddling was harmless, contextually acceptable behavior.
Yaoi Paddle shit appeared because something absolutely magical happened in scifi and fantasy fandoms. It survived purely because boys didn’t complain, or their complaints were not taken seriously. I promise you, I assure you, if you grew up in the late 80s, your night time TV was INUNDATED with heavy handed messages about how sexual harassment (always male-on-woman flavored) was wrong, even proxy or indirect violence to women (tossing rubber gloves in their lap) was wrong, and to never, ever, ever do that thing or they’d rub your nose in it and consider you mentally diseased until the day you died.
Fandom was always niche, with sci-fi and fantasy stuff being off in its own little corner. Conventions, before the internet was king, was one of few places where more rural, disparate suburban and city-definition isolated geeks, nerds and dreamers could get together and just cut loose. Comic books, novels, video games. All that GOOD shit. But if you knew a girl in the 80s and 90s, you knew a girl that knew a girl that was getting them to be less tolerant and “more conscious and aware” (80s and 90s parlance for Woke) and when that happened, a new persona was created. A new bunch of dialogue options, created.
Suddenly they didn’t say stuff like, “Ew. Why is this character dressed like a SLUT? Typical male writers. Like we’d ever draw ourselves in this or put ourselves in this.” Because that’d be a personal, subjective opinion. Instead, the option to say, “It’s endemic in our western culture that male chauvinist authors and writers in a patriarchal system exploit femininity in media and reproduce misogynistic culture.”
And so assured this was true by mob mentality AND the idea that learned, educated, acredited and tenured academics had this opinion, they were scientists, and so they were right, permeated. Suddenly girl-fans had outlets to have justified apprehension for everything they saw and didn’t like or, if they actually liked it, STILL interpreted it through their lenses to be on, “the right side of history.”
It made fandom miserable and a sausage fest for a while, if only out of fear of driving away female friends. You couldn’t share that shit unless you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that your female peers and friends wouldn’t disregard you like a “typical misogynistic western male” for enjoying that stuff.
Sentiments and peer pressure thoughts emerged. Like, “The comic industry is hostile and cruel to women that try and enter it, and they exploit the image of women for cheap dollars.” So they simply weren’t interested in comics- mostly- unless the comics were written by women and sold with that virtue in mind. In which case, you had boys glowingly mentioning just how much they liked this authentically written adventure by this female comic author. Isn’t that just so special? Not like those horrid anti-woman cigar smoking old man stories, right?
There was always something to nag and get vitriolic about with the media. That’s part of why the Whedon brand of feminist writing got so popular in the 90s. it was low hanging fruit of peppy “sassy” girl characters doing girly things. They weren’t like “other” girls written in comics and cartoons. They were actually girly. Not idealized infantalized children, like those horrible white men write, you know.
Well. Things were looking really bleak for the forseeable future. Lots of boys just felt like comics and cartoons were lost to girls that weren’t specifically into them, and that meant more sausage fest conventions or hobbies, and signing off hope on those things being respected and accepted on the merits of what they are and were. The girls had embraced serials-filed-off radfem rhetoric and lenses, sometimes without even knowing the origins of where those truisms like the Male Gaze even came from, just assuming it was true and indisputable. And it complimented their insecurities, so they’d embrace that shit until they couldn’t anymore.
And then.. something absolutely miraculous and amazing happened that blindsided this whole vitriolic culture.
Anime.
And amazingly, every complaint that a lot of nerdy girls had about the very much sanitized, policed and made PG writing and characterization of characters in western comics and cartoons, just... fucking up and vanished. Seemingly within a fucking YEAR, the entire social culture of Problem Finders, finding everything wrong about these stories, the characters, the writer and the company that produced them being misogynistic male chauvinism, dried up. Those voices quieted, or were shut out of the groups.
Media from Japan was some of the most infantilizing, sexist, tittelating shit compared to mainstream American comics and cartoons and video games, and girls fluttered to it like flies to shit. We had Buffy basically subverting boogymen that a bunch of girls had been taught were still relevant after the 1950s by fighting crime in melee combat with men, and winning, while wearing jogging pants and cracking sassy, like Lola Bunny being a “tough girl.”
Japan had doe eyed, waif bodied ballet dancers that basically farted iridescent glitter, hearts and all the symbols and shapes of the Lucky Charms, riding unicorns and fighting evil in cute outfits. Being childish and not at all mature or professional to show how womanly and competent they were, basically being overgrown 11 year old girls fresh off the playground swing set.
And the fangirls loved it. Those nagging voices that would speak up and remind them about misogynistic, male chauvinistic “societies” and culture? Just.. they fucking VANISHED from the mind for AN ENTIRE GENERATION. I’m not exaggerating. Tolerance and fun and innocence was back again. The problem-glasses felt too ostracized and alienated, or didn’t even want to wear them anymore for personal reasons, and the Radfem Baby Wokes just seemed to grow out of that collective hysteria and pretend it never happened and never existed.
That’s why the very EXISTENCE of Yaoi Paddles at conventions was just so fucking bizarre to those of us that lived up to that point. After, “Stay in your own personal space, boy. DON’T even TOUCH a GIRL unless she VERBALLY AND PUBLICLY CONSENTS or it’s proof you’re just living up to this misogynistic, objectifying society’s evil history!” was drilled into us, day on the playground by day on the playground, by women with axes to grind and good-boy sycophants performing sharing those sentiments for brownie points, it was so fucking surreal to IMAGINE girls just running around sexually assaulting and physically assaulting random strangers because they thought they looked like cute, gay men.
It wasn’t that they didn’t know any better beforehand, it’s that they COMPLETELY put those sentiments away and up and decided, as girls, it was okay to violate male autonomy because they weren’t women, and “it’s okay to paddle a yaoi boy ^.^!” With NO self-awareness whatsoever.
The very fact it existed is testament to how attention starved boys were for girls approving gaze and playful interaction, that they’d tolerate some pocky fingered little cow stranger smacking them on the ass with a plank of wood because it was a socially acceptable way to just interact with girls in their lonely assed fandom and interest. It was an acceptable way to meet girls and positively interact. That’s the degrading bullshit boys said virtually nothing about at the hayday of yaoi paddles, purely to be welcoming to girls in anime and hentai approving spaces.
WE GREW UP hearing and watching horror stories and boogymen stories about true crime and sitcoms and crime shows about evil evil men violating the personal space of women for lewd and lecherous reasons. We had it drilled into our heads that the tolerance for boys and men doing that was negatives, and the general sentiment was men caught doing that (to women, or children of any sex) were effectively free game for any violence you personally felt like unloading on them, confident that in such outraged rape and sexual assault hating times, juries would excuse that passion as a defense.
So if you look back on the era of Yaoi Paddles and think. “WOW. That must be like driving cars before they invented seat belts and cough medicine before they invented the drug safety and scheduling legal system!”.. NO.
It was not like the 50s-70s, where many of the rules hadn’t been written yet so it was anarchy and chaos. Yaoi Paddles existed almost PURELY because girls HAD no rules if they didn’t want to respect them. The Yaoi Paddle phenomenon flew in direct opposition to how interactions were supposed to go, and ABSOLUTELY NO ONE would tolerate the reverse; no cis straight man could walk around randomly smacking women on the ass with a plank of even foam in pantomime, or ‘floating hand’ pretending to be a perverted character. The double standard was GLARING. The Double Standard was a fucking bugbear that had grown from a tiny screaming goblin and was now hanging upside down from the ceiling, roaring.
But because it was GIRLS inflicting it on BOYS, absolutely no party cared enough to raise a stink about it. The Radfems kept their mouths shut, because boys were the recipients. The Radfem Sympathizers really wanted to spank boys, so suddenly they couldn’t find their problem glasses and instead put on their neko ears. The boys were either stoic and amused by it or really wanted to be seen as cool and not buzzkills, so they tolerated to reveled in it.
Many times when you hear about things that happened either when you were a child just too young to really personally experience a thing, or before you were born, we’re quick to assume it’s a medieval place and the people were so uncultured as to have never pondered the social problems of spanking one another on the ass unprovoked. Violation of personal space, personal sovereignty- all that. That was NOT okay at the time. It happened because fujoshi decided it was okay and nobody argued with them to not do hat, or they were told to stop and did it anyway.
And as I’ve laid it out, that is the most bizarre and surreal element to the whole thing. They DID know better, but felt it didn’t apply to THEM because they were girls, and a girl slapping a boy on the ass “as a joke” didn’t mean anything- because it wasn’t happening TO them, FROM a man.
And irony of ironies, it was NEVER okay, EVER, throughout that entire era, for the reverse to be a thing. It was very specifically and exclusively not. As a man if you ran around slapping cute looking girls with the Yuri Paddle, you goin’ to either juvy hall, or prison, boi. Both sexes knew it. And yet, yaoi paddles STILL became a thing.
5 notes · View notes
whaticannotshowyou · 4 years ago
Note
I can't get this idea out of my head of Lambert being an arsehole to jaskier the first time he arrives at kaer morgen, saying he's a nothing more than a whore, that he can smell that geralt uses him. Generally being a c*by about jaskier taking cock, because he's the lowest ranking in the pack and it feels good to have someone be the bitch around the keep, only for Aiden to make a surprise visit to the Keep. Aiden walks into Lambert talking to jaskier like that and proceeds to completely humiliate the wolf Infront of everyone, laughing at him exposing him for sleeping with both him and Coen, calling him a bitch for taking a cats cock, happily regaling stories about things he's made Lambert do for his amusement (fucking monsters?animals? Cutting off a monsters cock after its just used Lambert and stuffing it deep in him with the cum and letting him to go collect his coin while plugged up with the beasts cock and seed) All while casually putting his stuff down before making a simple motion for Lambert to present himself like the bitch he is. (I have this head cannon that the witchers have cocks like the animal their school is based on because mutagens come from that animal so aiden has a barbed cock like a cat, Coen as whatever a griffins is, vipers have two cocks and obviously wolves have a knot etc)
And since I recieved this, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head either. In love with the general concept of Lambert being an absolute menace the moment Jaskier tags along to Kaer Morhen. I can’t stte how much I vibe with that, the younger witcher finally having someone to pick on and actually be in the right in doing so. The addition of him getting put into place is just a perfect treat to have afterwards 😍
So Lambert is just unbearable, berating Jaskier for every single thing he can come up with. Being a weak human, unable to help around the keep, obviously just Geralt’s little cocksleeve when money is too tight for a proper whore. At first the bard doesn’t pay him any mind, knowing fully well that he and Geralt are having a great time together, but he gets tired after a while. He doesn’t even fully understand why the witcher is so keen to shaming him?
He gets his answer when Aiden makes his entrance, the rest of the wolves joining him into the room. Geralt is quick to growl at Lambert, tired of him being all over his bard at any given time, but is stopped by the cat as he smiles. Obviously he’s been told some of his behaviour during the short trip from the courtyard to the room they occupy at the moment and probably heard him call the human a shameless witcher slut. Lambert’s face drops at Aiden’s devious grin.
“Finally found someone lower than you to pick on? One would figure a pack bitch would have some sympathy for a new low-rank, right?” Jaskier gives him a confused look, then shifts his gaze back to Lmbert. Oh, he is... very much uncomfortable. The cat doesn’t stop though, instead steps forward after dropping his bags to the floor. The tounger wolf immediately bares his neck, eyes flickering to his family as he does so but never letting up.
Jaskier watches as the entire pack stares Lambert down as Aiden recounts all sorts of stories from their travels together, calling him a hypocrite for picking on Jaskier when he himself can’t even be sated with just one cock inside of him. He says names of witchers Jaskier has only heard in passing, or not at all, as the rest of them get visibly suprised by the confessions. Geralt mouths a “no way” as Aiden starts going into Lambert’s time amongst monsters, the car snickering at Lambert’s silent pleas for him to be quiet.
“Oh, don’t want your pack to know you fuck beasts? What about taking werewolf knots? Or letting that stray mutt of a dog we found in the woods use you?” The wolf is shaking with humiliation but he makes no move to stop the other, just slowly crumbling in on himself for each word that leaves the man. Aiden lists more encounters, horrendous monsters that the witcher had been fucked by, used and plugged up with as he was leaking it’s come all over a nobleman’s floor while collecting his bounty.
Eventually Aiden is done with his bags, most of his armour neatly folded on top of his backpack as he stands to his full height with a smirk, Jaskier noting the battlescarred skin under his dark shirt and how well he fits in his trousers. Lambert seems to do so as well, for he drops to his knees without breaking eye contact with the man.
“Good pup,” Aidens says and takes another step forward. “Now present yourself so the rest of our campany can see just what a bitch you are for a cat’s cock.”
And he does. The witcher strips in a haste before bending over, his face hidden in his arms as he presents his arse, thighs quivering with humiliation as he knows his pack is watching. Still, he doesn’t move, just stays like that as Aiden gets closer. He turns to Jaskier with a toothy grin, asking if the bitch should prepare himself and show them all what a loose hole he has? Jaskier makes no sound, not wanting to further aggravate the younger witcher in case he would want a payback later. Aidens doesn’t need his answer though, just kneels down next to the man and orders him to “get on with it.”
He can sink two of his thick fingers into himself without any issue, groaning the tiniest bit as the third enters dry and he slowly scissors them. Jaskier sees Eskel’s nostrils flare, no doubt taking in the heavy scent of lust permeating the entire room at that stage. Aiden spits in his hand before taking his cock into his hand, lazily stroking it. It’s long and pointy, small spikes raking up the base. Jaskier had just grown accustomed to the knot on Geralt, head soinning eith the possibility of even more exotic cocks to try. But he doesn’t have long to ponder it, instead transfixed by the scene unfolding before him.
The cat moves so he is kneeling behing Lambert, hands moving up and down his sides and spine as he humps his cock against his hole. The wolf melts into the touch, going slack as if he’s forgotten the group watching him. Instead he thrusts back against the cock, a whine barely audible as it catches on his rim but doesn’t sink in. With a chuckle, Aiden uses one hand to steady himself, pushing in halfway before stopping to check on the man. Jaskier wished he had a witcher’s hearing, unable to make out what they were whispering, but from the sight of it Aiden was making sure he was doing all right, that he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. Lambert nodded before pushing back against him, moaning as the penile spines dragged along his insides and caught on his rim.
With the confirmation, Aiden wastes no time being gentle. He fucks into the man like their lives depend on it, Lambert’s voice picking up until he‘s practically screaming with each thrust. The cat laughs cruelly as the other spills himself from the fucking alone, calling him a good cockslut for coming hands free. When Aiden finally slows down and come inside of him with a pleased groan, Lambert is boneless against the floor.
He dismounts the wolf with a smile and tells him to clean himself up, unless of course any of their onlookers would like a round.
15 notes · View notes
150289city · 4 years ago
Text
ILLUSION - SURREALISM
Analyse creative manipulation images.
1. Zdzislaw Beksinski
The canvas, known as "Creeping Death", evokes a lot of emotions and remains relevant all the time. The leitmotif is death, which creeps silently like a spider. This is how he appeared in the eyes of the painter - death comes unexpectedly and destroys everything on its way.
Beksiński's paintings were about loneliness and the inevitability of death. The painter also often presented a vision of Armageddon. This is also the case of "Creeping Death". The end of the world appears in dark, brown and bloody colors. And death takes its toll and disappears unnoticed from the battlefield. The city burning in the background means that death has won again. Nobody survived. Death can take many shapes, it can resemble a human, an animal or a spider. In the painting by Zdzisław Beksiński, he is a terrifying creature that leaves the ruined area on its cramped limbs. Instead of the face, you can see a bandage through which a blood stain pierces. Instead of a torso, there is a hairy abdomen, similar to that of deadly spiders, and they will always flee from impending danger. Just like death, which also has time to hide from fire.
Tumblr media
Beksiński's painting is one of the most terrifying contemporary works of Polish painting. Suffering, anger and resignation permeate them. The artist knows that he is unable to change his fate. He only has pain and the awareness that death will come for him. "Creeping Death" can be a universal picture, presenting the world after war, apocalypse or catastrophe. They can also be the darkest thoughts of every human being that circulate through the mind looking for an outlet. Because everyone is struggling with their own demons, which may appear completely different. It is certain that they cause fear, but they are essential in the fight against the suffering that is part of human life.
2. SALVADOR DALI
There are four clocks in the picture. One hangs from a dry tree, the other, with a blue shield and golden edging, flows down from a brown plinth. There is a fly on it, which can symbolize the "flying" and passing time. The orange watch lying next to it seems to be less soft and melting than the others. Ants crawled over him. The orange clock looks like it's about to be eaten by insects. Ants are here a symbol of rotting, decay. The fourth clock is in the center of the painting. It flows down from a deformed, beige-colored form. Only after looking closely you can see something like a nose, eyelid, long eyelashes. The distorted form resembles skin pulled from the face. According to some, it is a self-portrait of Salvador himself.
Tumblr media
"Soft clocks" is nothing but a delicate, extravagant and lonely, paranoid-critical camembert of time and space.’’ Salvador Dali
Persistence of memory is perhaps one of the artist's most recognizable works. It was established in 1931. The idea was born when Dali, eating a melting French Camembert cheese, saw clock faces in it.
Dali created works that were supposed to amaze or shock. He did not represent anything directly, but through a vision. Therefore, he is included in the group of surrealists. Obraz Persistence of memory is a dream about time deformed by memories and dreams. Gala - Dali's muse and wife - said about this painting that the viewer's memory would only be the "softness" of the watches, because anyone who saw this work at least once would never forget it. The rocks of Cape Creus are an element of the landscape that appears in many of Dali's works. They have become an example of "hard" forms. The artist, who has a well-prepared drawing and knows the perspective, creates in a surprising way. An example is theoretically correctly painted clocks, but why is one of them hung over a branch, and the other running off the counter? It was this astonishment that the artist wanted to combine various objects in any way. The elements of the painting are arranged on the canvas in such a way that we have the impression of a large space and emptiness. Thanks to vivid imagination, all details have been divided into soft and hard. Clocks are among the soft ones.
3.  RENÉ MAGRITTE
With my popular sympathy for the Belgian painter René Magritte, I have allowed myself to be introduced to you by opening the whole series "Art for Tuesday" with his "Lovers". Together with the blog returning to the expanses of the Internet, let Magritte be the patron of the reactivation of this cycle, this time with her "Son of Man".
The very title "Son of Man" (French: "Le fils de l'homme") is a bit puzzling when confronted with this picture presents itself.
After all, we see an elegant man in a suit and a bowler hat against the background of the wall separating him from the sea, above him there are clouds that announce a storm or storm. And what is very important - it is a self-portrait.
Oh yes, I would ... Before the face of forgotten people (levitating?) A green apple that makes his face invisible, revealing part of the eye and eyebrow in fact. We have to remind ourselves that the Belgian was definitely a surrealist who grew out of the impressionist school. However, he used his symbolic linguistic voice, which was shaped by such tragic experiences as the mother's suicide - hence the motive of the shroud. The motif of a veiled face, or the lack of it, is constantly present in Magritte's painting. Maybe it allows you to stay safe? For both the "covered" and those looking at him? Or maybe these masks and covers allow for proper perception of things (I refer to the author's painting "Rape")?
As for the "Son of Man", a stretched (as always), original interpretation appeared in my head.
The apple ripens with its apple tree represented by the man. He is well dressed, which can mean high social status. Or maybe an apple covering a man's face makes him anonymous? is it just a tree from which society grows? And when he dies, will someone eat the forbidden fruit that he has grown, and will continue this process? Another "Son of Man" ..?
Tumblr media
4. Max Ernst
"Day and Night" is a work that Max Ernst painted in the years 1941-1942. It presents a gloomy rocky landscape in dark colors. The image of the night is dominant here - the dark blue sky and the outlines of boulders. On the dark background, however, there are traces of the day, resembling daytime photographs of the same space. In these pictures these places appear completely different - they are sunny and full of bright colors. They do not resemble a barren night landscape.
Ernst's work follows surrealist poetics. Its meaning becomes understandable above all in the historical context in which it was created. It is about the tragedy of World War II, which left its mark on the artist's own biography. He miraculously managed to escape from the hands of the Gestapo and emigrate from France to the United States.
The night landscape is a barren land devoid of color and optimism. One gets the impression that we are dealing with a world completely destroyed by some cataclysm. His memories are only optimistic photographs from the past, which show the old face of the landscape. These optimistic incrustations in combination with the dominant gray and sterility not only do not cheer up the whole, but make it even more repulsive. We are dealing here with a world that will never return to its former glory.
The colorful pictures bring to mind illustrations from children's books. Thus, the artist refers to the myth of childhood as a lost paradise. Children's dreams are triggered here, in which reality seems to be a magical and wonderful being. At the same time, the juxtaposition of colored fragments with a gloomy background is also associated with the biblical Eden, where innocence and beauty are destroyed by sin and evil.
You can also understand "Night and Day" as a kind of puzzle. The picture resembles a puzzle that needs to be matched in an appropriate way so that they form a whole together. In this sense, one should see in Ernst's work traces of hope for rebuilding what was destroyed during the war. It is, in a way, a proposal to organize the world once again so that it becomes a place where a person feels safe again.
Tumblr media
5. Pablo Picasso
"Guernica" is a famous painting by Pablo Picasso, painted in 1937 in reaction to the Spanish Civil War. The work is an act of protest against violence and at the same time a great manifestation of pacifism.
The title of the painting comes from the name of a Spanish city bombed by the German Luftwaffe air force in response to resistance to General Franco's group.
"Guernica" shows deformed human and animal figures, forming a chaotic swirl. You can see the bodies in pieces, especially the heads and limbs. The severed hands tighten tightly on the objects they hold: a candle or a sword. The mouths of the characters are usually open in a silent scream, and terror is visible in their eyes. People seem to squirm in deathly groans. Human figures blend with animals.
The whole thing looks like a huge, dynamic swirl. The depressing impression is deepened by the colors of the painting, in shades of black and gray. The central part of the painting is lit by a light bulb in the upper edge of the work. It seems that the situation depicted in the picture takes place in a narrow room, intensifying the impression of being surrounded and threatened.
The painting was painted in cubist aesthetics, which in the case of such a dramatic topic emphasizes the cruelty and tragedy of war. The fragmentation of the solid is here not only an act of artistic deformation, but also emphasizes the essence of any armed conflict, which is the total destruction of the world.
The war appears on Picasso's canvas as unbridled chaos and suffering. People dehumanize, they are reduced to the level of terrified animals, driven by the survival instinct. Human remains are clearly deformed, they resemble meat. Human and animal bodies are fragmented as if after a bomb had exploded.
The symbol of destruction is the Spanish bull emerging from the gloom, which covers the unfolding events with an unshakable gaze. Broken hands clutch at useless objects, among which stand out a candle and a broken sword. The former may symbolize the desire to illuminate the escape route, but it is also a sign of mourning for those who died. A broken sword and a torn horse indicate the uselessness of conventional weapons in a modern war that brings mass death and destruction.
Picasso's painting exudes an atmosphere of fear and terror, the image of a mother lamenting over a child's corpse is particularly poignant. The claustrophobic narrowness of the room in which the characters find themselves emphasizes the non-exit character of their situation.
Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago
Text
The Greenland Incident
The post I typed up got deleted on Reddit (!!!) So I’m reposting here. :)
It’s a bit long but has the story written from professor Schneider’s POV. Enjoy!
This is taken from Dragon Raja III: Part I Chapter: Shadows of Greenland.
Schneider took off the oxygen mask and moved his face into the light. Even as he smoked cigarettes, he was on oxygen. When removing the oxygen mask, he will carefully hide his face in the shadow so this is the first time Manstein saw Ned's (Schneider's) face. It's a horror movie mask. The face is a nightmare, the flesh and blood under the eyes are completely dry, only a layer of dry skin is stuck to the bone, the lips and nose are atrophied, and the front teeth are directly exposed.
"It's ugly isn't it? Actually, I am only 37 years old this year but I have the half century old face of a mummy. When the students hear my cough, they think I am an old man in my 50s. But I am even younger than you." Schneider said, self-deprecating.
Manstein shivered slowly: "How can this be?"
"This is the mark left by a mission," Schneider said. "That was 11 years ago, when we first heard a heartbeat signal from the deep sea."
"This (The Japan sea mission) is not the first time we have found embryos in the sea?" Manstein was taken aback.
"No, No. Eleven years ago, that was in Greenland. We found a similar embryo." Schneider spit out a complete smoke ring. "You might have guessed it. I was talking about the  unresolved case in the Greenland Ice Sea. The dive team was annihilated, but the school board ordered all files to be sealed and the investigation was forcibly terminated. If you want to hear this story, you have to be patient, because this story is very long, and please order Norma (EVAs human personality) to leave this room. You with a black card now, you can do it."
"Why should Norma leave?"
"Because Norma doesn't know. The so-called top secret cannot be stored in the system or the drives. It can only be stored here." Schneider tapped on his forehead. "After listening to this story, you can't say a word. You can't even write a memo for yourself. This is a rigid rule of the college. You can only remember every detail I said firmly as far as you can. If you forget it, there's no remedy."
"What happened 11 years ago, can you still remember every detail of it now?"
"Of course, I can." Schneider said quietly. "That was the only trip to hell in my life. How could I forget?"
The icy cold permeated from Schneider's words. Manstein felt that when he mentioned something that happened 11 years ago, the ugly and powerful man in front of him ignited his anger, an anger restrained for 11 years.
"Norma, leave this room and leave the two of us alone for a while." Manstein said.
"Understand that, starting now, the central control room will be outside of my monitoring range for 15 minutes." Norma said.
All the equipment n the central control room stopped running, the cameras and recording equipment were locked, and the lights went out one by one. Norma left and the surveillance was lifted. At this moment, the central control room was independent of the campus, and the shadows of the trees swayed on the high windows, which looked like the depths of an ancient church.
"It was the autumn of 2001...." Schneider slowly began to narrate.
"It was the autumn of 2001. A person with the ID named 'Prince' posted a message on the Internet saying that his tugboat had caught strange bronze fragments deep in the Greenland Sea. He posted a photo and it seemed that there were some intricate ancient characters on them. These characters were completely consistent with the 'Ice Sea Bronze Column Tablet' secretly collected by the college."
"The Ice sea Bronze Pillar Tablet is considered to be a rare artifact that has been passed down from the Dragon Age to today. It once stood in the dragon-kin built cities. The dragons are accustomed to using pillars to record their history and the center of the city is always a huge pillar standing upright. However, the icy sea copper column tablet is only a part of a column that had broken and it is estimated that it is less than a third of its original length. It is the most detailed dragon text material that humans have found to today, recording the war history of the dragon clan, but we still can't interpret it because there is no text for comparison. Those texts are just meaningless patterns for us."
"I was just a young assistant professor at the time, keen to interpret Dragon Words. I think if there is another copper pillar in the depths of the Greenland Sea, then the comparison of the above text may be able to interpret the true history of dragons. So I contacted the 'Prince' anonymously, saying that we were an ancient writing research institute and hoped to purchase these fragments."
"At that time, someone offered an amazing price, but the Prince expressed that he was willing to donate the fragments to research institutions instead of selling them to merchants. He sent the fragments to us without taking any money, and attached the coordinates of where he found them. We immediately sent an elite team to scan the seabed with sonar. We originally hoped to find a huge pillar on the seabed, but we caught a strange heartbeat signal right on the seabed."
"The Greenland Ice Sea is not as deep as the Japanese Trench. Large animals like beluga and tiger sharks live in it. So we didn't think it was a dragon embryo at first. But we observed it for several months. Nothing moved. We had to focus our attention from the pillar to the heartbeat signal. This was too strange. If the thing is a whale or a shark, then it should hunt around. If it is a giant turtle of unknown species, but dormant, then its heartbeat shouldn't be so strong. 
Someone put forward an amazing idea, that is: it is the embryo of a dragon. The seabed is its burial ground, it has experienced death, and cocooning and then reviving turned it into a fetal state. It is undergoing a long incubation.
"The idea was too bold, but the heartbeat signal was too strange and too tempting. Everyone of us was fascinated by this speculation. Since the establishment of the Secret Party, we have only received one dragon embryo, which is a weak one out of three generations. Dragon blood lines are already weak. If we can get a strong embryo, analyzing it can help us learn more about this ancient life."
"So you decided to dive?" Manstein asked.
"No, we weren't so rash. Because everything is just guessing. The safest way before a human goes is to send out a remote controlled submersible to survey the area. But whenever the underwater robots approached the seabed, they would lose control. We recovered the underwater robots and found that their circuits somehow burned up. This added to the evidence that the thing on the seabed was an embryo of a dragon. When an elder dragon is said to be in the process of incubation, a certain field will be developed to protect themselves. People who step into this field will have fatal hallucinations. Biologically speaking, the hallucinations are all because the cerebral cortex is stimulated, and the cerebral cortex is most easily stimulated by an electrical current."
"So the electric field of embryos burned the robot's circuits?" Manstein said.
"We thought so. We didn't want to send people to dive. If it is indeed the embryonic field that burned down those robots, then the impact on the cerebral cortex would be terrible. Even though all my students are A pedigree, I'm still not sure if they can fight against the field of embryos. In the hallucinations created by dragons, only the most powerful hybrids can maintain self-awareness. Any gap in the psychological defense line will be crushed by the hallucination. This has been recorded in the archives of the secret party." Schneider said. "But this time the school board intervened. They ordered us to dive as soon as possible to confirm the target. Their reason was that we could not wait for the embryo to hatch. At that time, even if it was risky, we had to act."
"Diving was the decision of the school board?"
"Yes. Today they sent you to stop the Caesar Team Embryo dive, but they were the creators of the Greenland plan back then."
"Under pressure, we made a dive plan. We purchased the most advanced diving bell from Germany at the time. It was a kind of all-metal diving equipment. Metal is an  excellent conductor. It can form an electrostatic barrier and should weaken the embryo field. Everyone in the dive team was to wrap their whole body with a fine metal mesh and took nerve tranquilizers orally. They are all the best hybrids. We thought they should be able to resist the interference in the embryonic field after they were fully armed. There were six people in the group. If one person had a problem the other five could force him to evacuate. In order to kill the dangerous embryo we also made a special underwater rifle for the dive team, using bullets polished by the Philosopher's Stone which is lethal to dragons."
"Although they were going to perform a dangerous mission, the students were still excited. Young people are fearless and they had the opportunity to get lose to a dragon embryo, which was as exciting as the opportunity to visit the Kingdom of God."
The weather was unexpectedly good on the day of the dive. The six members of the dive team went down on three diving bells. I provided support on the ice. At first, everything went smoothly, the ocean current was calm. The marine life was calm. They even observed beluga whales. But when the depth reached 170 meters, the leader of the dive team suddenly yelled in surprise in the communication channel, saying that they saw a gate. This is very strange because the seabed in that area is 300 meters deep, and their depth is 170 meters, which means that they are still 130 meters from the bottom. Visibility was very low. But at this point, they saw this gate. Is there a gate suspended in the middle of the sea?
"I became alert and worried that they had strayed into the embryonic field and had begun to have hallucinations. They excitedly discussed the gate in the communication channel. This is completely against the rules of communications. They should not talk about it in the communication channel. This channel is for essential communication only to avoid misunderstandings. I loudly ordered them not to approach the gate. I wasn't sure if it really existed but my instinct told me that the gate should not be opened."
"But they completely ignored my orders. I only heard their hurried muttering and strange noises. It was like someone was breathlessly reading a certain scripture in a deep well. Then the team leader spoke and yelled, "The gate is open! The gate is opening!" Then, "No! Don't Go in!"
"Then the gunshots were heard, loud. I could hear them paddling and the sound of their respirators. They had left the diving bell and were fighting with something. The situation was very chaotic. Someone shouted in the channel but because of the current interference, I couldn't hear what they said."
"I originally told the diving team not to leave the diving bell, because the electrostatic barrier in the diving bell is their important protection, but why they violated my order... there's no perfect explanation. After five minutes, the communication was cut off. We could no longer receive signals from the depths of the ice sea. I decided to forcibly recover the diving bells. Those diving bells are connected to the ice breaker with safety lines. However, we recovered the safety lines, only to find that the safety lines were cut with diving knives. The cuts, judging from the fibers, were made by the diving teams own knives. They cut the safety lines themselves."
"I was frantic and decided to dive down to rescue them. There were no more bells, but I was confident in my physical fitness. I could dive to 300 meters without protective gear. I could dive to 170 on one breath. When I reached the waters where the incident occurred, there was no gate nor were their corpses. The water was clear with no trace of blood, even though I clearly heard the gunshots in the communication channel. At that time, the surrounding water temperature had dropped below zero. It was so cold that any disturbance in the water would form ice crystals."
"I then noticed something behind me that had been silently swimming with me!" "The predator was so cautious to keep itself from being discovered by me. But the super cold seawater was  formed a thin film of ice in front of me and it reflected the light on my diving helmet. I saw its dark shadow in the thin ice, just like the totem on an ancient mural. It was slender, its long and thin tail swung slowly in the sea, like a butterfly in flight. I heard a sound and my spotlight stopped working from the cold and I was surrounded in completely darkness. I thought I was going to die. The embryo had hatched. It killed my students! It was behind me but I can't do anything about it."
"Desperation brings out courage. So I remembered that I was still holding my underwater rifle. All the special ones were handed over to the dive team. I only had an ordinary one filled with ordinary bullets. But I can't sit and wait for death. So I turned and took a shot in the dark."
"I then saw blood. I had actually hurt it!"
"How can an ordinary rifle harm a dragon? That thing was only used by divers to kill sharks and can't even kill a large shark. And you were too far down for it to work effectively." Manstein said.
"I can't answer that, but there was a strong smell of blood penetrating the seals of my helmet. I wasn't injured. The dragon was." Schneider said.
"I could clearly feel it right in front of me. I and the injured dragon are facing each other in the dark, very close. But I still couldn't see it."
"It hissed at me and in an instant my oxygen mask shattered into pieces, and the cold current rushed into my air supply carrying with it, the dragon's blood. I lost consciousness."
"My companions heard my screams and brought me back up from the water with a safety cable. When the water rushed out, I was frozen in a piece of the sea ice weighing several tons. Like a fish frozen at a market."
"Fortunately, the rescue helicopter arrived in a few minutes. After I woke up, the doctor said that I had suffered from the extreme cold. I danced with the god of death and inhaled that cold air it breathed out at minus 200 degrees. It necrotized my face, the temperature of my brain dropped and my blood was frozen. My chance of survival should have been non-existent."
"The doctor tried his best and managed to save my tongue. But I must wear an oxygen mask at all time, and change the plastic trachea every two or three years, otherwise my respiratory system will fail and I will die."
"I used to love hand rolled cigarettes, but this box of shredded tobacco is what I have left over from 11 years ago and I haven't finished smoking it. I only roll one cigarette occasionally to smoke when I am reminiscing about that period. I remember the past more clearly. I assure that every detail I said is true, because I dare not forget. These memories are painfully carved into my mind."
"We were unable to successfully capture or kill that dragon. It is still alive, hidden in the deep sea of the world, looking for opportunities to surface. A few hours after the incident we used diving robots to explore again. The fish disappeared quietly in the ice sea and no trace was found. We explored the seabed but did not find embryos or copper pillars, as if everything we experienced was just a nightmare that disappeared when we woke up. A few years later, a marine minding company found a wealth of manganese in the seabed and build an offshore mining platform. Today there are thousands of marine miners working there. Nothing supernatural happened again, until not long ago, we observed exactly the same heartbeat signal deep in the Japanese Trench."
[skipping down because they talk about other things]
"Only one in 100,00 people can evolve safely after being in contact with the blood of an elder dragon. I was actually one of the lucky ones. I was able to survive the bottom of the sea because it had already begun to increase my potential. But I am not a person who is fully able to accept dragon blood. My body is riddled with holes. strengthening me while destroying me. I have endured the pain for 11 years. The most likely in the college to turn into a Death Servitor is not Chu Zihang, but me."
"I'm not afraid to dive, but my body can't bear it. Now sitting in front of you is a dying patient. Were it not for the dragon blood's corruption, I would have died already."
"Does the principal know?"
"He knows. The college has formulated a special medical plan for me. I change my blood every year, but the dragon blood can never be cleared. I'm not sure how much longer I have left." Schneider knocked on his heart. "I have an explosive device the size of a pacemaker right next to my heart. Once I lose control, it will explode. I will suddenly fall to the ground and it will not be of any trouble to you."
"Must you be so cruel to yourself?" Manstein whispered.
"People who are cruel to others must learn how to be cruel to themselves. Otherwise they are just cowards." Schneider said slowly, "many people think that I would never perform assignments after the Greenland incident. That I would shrink back into my research. Because of that incident, I lost six students and I am the way I am now. They thought that a person who survived hell should value their life all the more."
"But I chose to be the director of the executive department. I am the last member of the Greenland team. Those young people whose lives were blooming like flowers died. And I survived. If I were a stupid coward, wouldn't that be ridiculous?"
16 notes · View notes
eat-the-richard · 4 years ago
Text
Sonic’s 30th: What it could be and what it won’t be
Well folks, it's about that time again. Our beloved Sonic thee Hedgehog is turning the big three-oh this year.
I say that time “again” because, y’know, it seems like we just went through this. The last mainline Sonic releases, Sonic Mania and Sonic Forces, were both revealed as part of Sonic’s 25th anniversary. In a sense, that’s all us fans really have to look forward to anymore. Waiting for about five-or-so rotations around the sun to pass until SEGA can slap that big number next to Sonic’s mug to usher out as much celebratory marketing material as they can, all for the chance to get a smidgen of new video games to get our hands on.
This anniversary feels... different, though. Last anniversary SEGA had an absolute winner on their hands in Sonic Mania. There was no way the team behind that one could possibly mess up. And even if Sonic Forces turned out like... that, it at least made sense from SEGA’s perspective to greenlight a game like it during that time. But the five years since those games were announced have done little to assuage my worries about what exactly is planned for this year’s big game.
You see, Sonic has kind of vanished. He’s lost. M.I.A.. Which feels strange. Even during the supposed “dark age” of Sonic, he never really went anywhere. New games were still being produced like clockwork for a whole host of gaming systems. From mainline titles to spinoffs, dedicated Sonic fans had a lot to sink their teeth into back then. Since the release of Forces, all we really have to show for ourselves is a (personally) insignificant expansion to Sonic Mania and a new racing title which, frankly, didn’t set the world on fire when it was released. I suppose there’s a whole host of mobile titles that I didn’t mention but it’s difficult to get excited over yet another Sonic auto-runner. Perhaps most bafflingly, there haven’t even been many ports of older Sonic titles to modern hardware. If the mid-2000s were the dark ages of Sonic, perhaps right now we’re living in the “silent age,” where basically nothing is even happening and the franchise is at an eternal standstill.
The sole exception to this self-titled silent era was the Sonic movie, which I don’t think anyone anticipated being as big of a success as it was. Including the studio behind it. And especially including SEGA. It was utterly baffling to me that, upon the film’s release, there was nothing in the way of a tie-in game. Nothing directly associated with the movie. Nothing separate to release alongside the movie. Nothing. Some have speculated that SEGA was supremely unconfident in the film and it's hard to argue otherwise. It seems that, in a sense, the movie was a success in spite of the company the IP is linked with.
That’s why this anniversary feels more peculiar than the last one. At least Sonic was doing something in the early 2010s. Perhaps nothing groundbreaking, but he was at least around. If it hadn’t been for the movie, how in the world would the series be attracting new fans? This anniversary needs to be big. It needs to be the explosive re-emergence of Sonic to not only please the jaded oldies but the next generation of kids. And… I just don’t anticipate anything of the sort.
To me, Sonic Team has about four directions they could take the 30th anniversary game. Here they are, listed in descending order of likelihood.
4. A new “boost” game. Sonic Team ain’t opening that can of worms again.
3. A new “classic Sonic” game. While Christian Whitehead’s new studio has been deafeningly silent since forming, I believe that we’d have a bit more information about a Sonic Mania sequel by now if that was indeed in development.
2. Something entirely different.
1. Sonic Adventure 3 (or comparable analog).
Now, your reaction to that list may differ depending on your preferences and the year you were born. To me, something evoking nostalgia to the two Sonic Adventures is the safest and most likely choice for SEGA and Sonic Team. Just as classic nostalgia permeated through the 2010s, Adventure nostalgia will trailblaze full force through the 2020s. There are a lot of people whose only exposure to Sonic at all is playing Sonic Adventure 2 Battle on their GameCube. And the only way those people could potentially get funneled back into the series is through a proper Sonic Adventure 3, or at least something like it.
This, of course, says nothing about the overall quality of what this new Adventure title would be. And really, this is my main concern with the 30th anniversary. Can I even trust Sonic Team anymore to put out a good game?
Regardless of style, I’m unconfident to say the least. The staff that worked on the Adventure titles are not at SEGA anymore. The staff that spearheaded the “boost trilogy” of Unleashed, Colors, and Generations are not at SEGA anymore. And modern-day Sonic Team’s idea of something entirely different is, well, unappealing. Sonic Lost World proved that trying to change the core of the series for its own sake leads to a bland and uninspiring experience. And Forces? Oh… Forces.
Really, Forces is the main reason why I’m so disillusioned. Maybe it was that I was excited for the grand return of the boost. Maybe it was that I loved Generations so much that a proper sequel to it couldn’t possibly be bad. Instead of being a sequel to Generations, though, it tries to be everything at once. A game to appeal to the classic fans, the Adventure fans, the boost fans, those whole love complicated narratives, those who love the many characters this series has, and, obviously, the Original Character Artists™. Jack of all trades, master of nothing. A directionless, soulless game that in some instances is seemingly artificially-generated.
If this spectacular 30th anniversary Sonic game is something entirely different, it had to break an astounding amount of new ground. It had to rethink and reshape the series so drastically that, honestly, I don’t think it's very likely. I don’t think Sonic Team has even the slightest clue about what makes their flagship IP so appealing to so many people. If the nostalgia-fueled 2010s are any indication, SEGA only understands what makes Sonic so popular on a superficial level. 
They know we liked the 2D games, so now EVERY game has 2D in it! Oh, they didn’t like that Sonic has green eyes. Well, let’s bring back the CLASSIC version of Sonic. Let’s actually make him his own character who will also appear in every game! 
New zone ideas? LMAO how about we reuse the same set of classic levels over and over! Green Hill? YES! Chemical Plant? Of course! Let’s make an entire game that has both Sonics running around in a bunch of old zones. Wait, didn’t we just do that idea last year for Sonic 4 Episode 1? And aren’t we going to do that idea NEXT year for Sonic 4 Episode 2? WAIT DID SOMEONE SAY CHECKERBOARD PATTERNS IN WINDY HILL ZONE!???!!!! 
Oh wait, Christian Whitehead just pitched to us a brand new 2D Sonic game with classic physics and new levels? We’ll let him do it, but ONLY if it is ANOTHER nostalgia game that reuses old zones! 
Let’s inundate our fans with the same images of their childhood to activate their dopamine receptors! 
I can hardly wait for what this team’s idea of Sonic Adventure nostalgia looks like. Hope you really like City Escape.
Really, while such appeals to nostalgia are welcome the first few times, after a while it starts to get grating. Sonic Team leaning so hard into it during the 2010s reeks to me of desperation. As if the constant callbacks are the only thing the team knows how to do to link new games with the rest of the series. 
In actuality, fans don’t like Sonic because of the classic design or 2D-platforming or Green Hill Zone. They may like those things, but it isn’t why they continue to support the series. Fans love Sonic so fervently because, when he hits on all cylinders, he really hits. His games play in a supremely rewarding way where skill mastery is key. The better you are at Sonic, the better you feel while playing it. The personalities and designs of all of the different characters, from Sonic to Tails to Vector the freakin’ Crocodile, are not only distinct from each other but bleed through into gameplay in the way that they control and in how they are animated. Sonic’s best stories are ones that people can really relate to, dealing with a whole host of themes such as environmentalism, resisting fascism, surpassing expectations, and even the concept of free will among nonhuman entities. Not especially deep, but certainly thought provoking, especially for kids. All tied together with top notch visual and audio design that will stand the test of time. I’d posit that, while people like Sonic for a whole host of reasons, their starting point lies somewhere in the above explanation.
Hopefully, Sonic Team has realized by now that nostalgia will only get them so far. While a Sonic Adventure 3 would turn heads, it wouldn’t push the series forward. While a proper sequel to Sonic Mania would be a critical darling, it would continue to keep Sonic’s feet firmly planted in 1991. Sonic needs to evolve. He needs to change. And it seems like a change is happening. Roger Craig Smith, the voice of Sonic for the last 10 years, is no longer working with the series. The new TV series, Sonic Prime, is set to take place in a “strange new multiverse.” Even the Sonic movie refuses to lean on nostalgia too hard. 
So maybe the future will be set in unfamiliar waters. But if this is the case, I don’t want SEGA to half ass it. I want them to boldly step into that abyss with a vision of Sonic that appeals to the heart of the fandom. Because, even if it's been down recently, that heart is still beating, and after the abuse it's already taken, it’s going to take a hell of a lot to get it to stop. And if SEGA can get this heart pumping to its full extreme as it had in years past, we may have something legendary to look forward to.
They could also just release a bunch of old Sonic games on Switch. I’d like that too.
4 notes · View notes
cviperfan · 4 years ago
Text
Okay so partially motivated by how many references there were in SPoP and largely bc it's been in my backlog for years and I remembered the whole thing got uploaded to youtube a while ago, I finally got around to watching Revolutionary Girl Utena for the first time so time for some hot takes
Tumblr media
2 clarify I did see the movie about around 2000 which was my introduction to the series, and I did see like 1 episode back in anime club (over a decade ago now tbh) but for the most part I went into this with only a vague sense of the ending and offhand knowledge of a few of the weird comedy episodes so this was mostly a blind watch
Before getting into #spoilers I will say that this ended up being an easy Top 5 and that it's definitely still worth watching (fair warning for the very frequent rape and incest (and sometimes both)), especially if you've somehow also avoided most of the context of this show like me, and it really is one of the rare Nothing Else Like It kind of show (though it has roots in older shoujo like Rose of Versailles and modern stuff like Revue Starlight have picked up its lede)
Okay spoilers from here on
I really only kinda have vague memories of the more knightly take on Utena from the movie so Series!Utena having this powerful Dumb Jock Energy threw me
Like she's out here invoking the Air Bud Rule from minute one
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This bit where Akio is going on about some Important Life Lesson thing and she's just fuckin
crab walking im
Tumblr media
what a hero i love her
I have always kinda been more partial to shoujo than shounen bc the sense of like emotional urgency and the heightened exaggerated feelings are just more compelling to me narratively and what Utena does spectacularly is really drive that to fucking 11 and it permeates every aspect of the show
Like the melodrama of it all is so shameless and it's so committed to letting its visuals and music drive the mood and emotional intensity of its stakes that they kind of speak for themselves and demand to be taken on their own terms rather than having clear or rigid interpretations
Like it's kind of a situation of "yes most of what you're seeing ties into the show's bigger themes and characterization but also you can just vibe to the spectacle as well" like even when it's not on the Dueling Arena there's a theatricality underlying everything that pairs perfectly with the spirit of shoujo even as it... not necessarily contradicts it, but challenges it in some ways and also wants to coexist with it?
And I think that's the interesting thing how it wants to tackle some of these arch concepts tied into the genre while also being deeply intertwined with it.  Like it really is a Product Of Its Time in so many ways but it also feels somehow timeless and transgressive in others even now?
Like part of me would be interested to see a remake that took into account 23 years of conversation about how much perceptions of gender and sexuality have changed but at the same time would it lose some essential part of itself in that transition?  idk potentially
Also lbr a hypothetical remake wouldn't even attempt to revise anything it would just redo it thus making it pointless
So I know this has been a thing that's been brought up before but seeing it play out dang RGU and NGE really are just companion pieces to each other huh
Subverting the themes and narrative arcs of their respective genres, mysterious quiet girl who's directly the key to everything, the ritual of action setpieces rendered as Actual Ritual in the story, banger OP, comphet ruining everyone's lives
Also they really don't have much in common comparatively but I'm definitely seeing pieces of Utena in Kill la Kill too?  Particularly how Mako's arc feels like a fleshing out and expansion from the archetype divergence Wakaba got in that one ep (I can't believe klk was the utena/wakaba au fanfic)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Speaking of which damn he is a sleazy bastard and a gross predator but ngl Akio can Get It he and Ragyo are basically the same character and I guess this is just my type apparently???? oops
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Like I'm recognizing how like really awful he is but also you really can't blame Utena for crushing on him he is super hot and charming
aside i lost it at the audacity of "well even tho i am a man like twice your age (AT LEAST) and took advantage of the situation and also i am clearly not the type to take no for an answer since you didn't reject me you're basically just as bad as me" bruh
The Black Rose Arc is... interesting bc like it borders on superfluous with how it resolves and yet the introduction of a "monster of the week" type power rangers element specifically built to expand on the secondary cast is a pretty inspired choice
again my primary point of introduction to the series was the movie which is basically a remix of the Student Council arc so when I got to 12 I was like wth are they gonna fill the rest of this with? WELP
What I really like about it is that usually this kind of setup-- the 'character is faced with their dark inner thoughts they shy away from and they become a short-term enemy' deal-- ends with the char in question coming to terms with this and overcoming it to become a better person
but here it's just like... they lose and then they just gotta... sit with that, forever.  Like it doesn't really change the status quo of their relationships w/ utena or the others but it does just stick around for them and now the audience knows that about them too.  like sometimes you just can't take that shit back.
Utena's relationship to queerness, having heard about it tangentially for years but seeing it play out now is also interesting bc while in the grand scheme it doesn't feel necessarily any more ahead of its time than something like Cardcaptor Sakura there is a casualness to it that's distinct
Like for the most part it's either kind of the tangential fluff that even then was part of shoujo as a standard but then there's also stuff like the Akio/Touga or Touga/Saionji hinting or Kozue's casual pass at Anthy in addition to the maintext Juri/Shiori push-pull and ofc the subtext-but-maintext Utena/Anthy threads
I wanna take a moment to talk about Juri bc of how kind of in the spirit of the show itself it plays things both with and against the grain with her
Tumblr media
Like she's a Tragic Lesbian which is nothing new but usually this character type (and Distinctively Lesbian characters in general) in anime/manga tend to be portrayed as being very predatory, invasive and either played for laughs or to repulse the audience, so the degree of empathy RGU shows her in 97 is rare to see even now.  
Like there is a "safeness" to her bc of how unattainable Shiori is (though their arc ends in a decidedly ambiguious way), but it doesn't really feel like she's getting the short end of the stick over the more straight-leaning characters bc arguably all of the relationships here are defined by an aspect of chasing the unattainable, echoing Utena's own quixotic search for her Prince, and her choosing to remain closeted feels realistic *especially because* of the surrounding context of how heteronormative the world she exists in is.  Like the character is aware of that and is navigating it in a way that feels honest
Speaking of which it's interesting how the reveal of Juri's pining for Shiori in Ep 7 echoes the bigger reveal of Utena/Anthy bc of how it plays up this heterocentric love triangle or at least it seems to be but then the cards are on the table and no that's really not what it is at all, and it feels significant that after spending most of the series naively oblivious to Juri’s feelings and what she wants out of a relationship with Shiori that Utena finally Gets It in Ep 37
Is it a coincidence Juri actually gets to be the one to point it out? No
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Speaking of triangles big ups to the Ruka/Juri/Shiori one honestly bc of how hard it commits to the unknown third result of a LT where absolutely no one comes out happy and it actually works even with the handicap of Ruka basically coming out of nowhere just for these two episodes
Like all three of them want the one person who's absolutely never gonna love them back and that's just rough buddy and isn't that kinda the show in a nutshell
So the thing that struck me about Utena/Anthy and how it plays out is how subtle it really is.  And that does make sense bc while f/f teasing/subtext again was part of shoujo before it's quite a different thing for the heroine to ultimately reject her 2 male love interests and choose a life with her female best friend, esp in nineteen ninety seven
Like I think you can argue that Ep 12 feels like The Moment where What Their Relationship Is, Definitely shifts and that possibility is suddenly there, and then it doesn't come back in a big way until the ending but there are tiny glimpses throughout where you can see that working in the background if you’re really paying attention
Small things like Anthy's flashes of unspoken jealousy, Utena fretting over her even when she's in bed with Akio, and part of that is coming from going in with a knowledge of what the endgame is and keeping an eye out for it.  I can hardly imagine being a viewer during the og broadcast and then ep 34 comes and suddenly the intent is made clear and our understanding of the inciting incident gets all flipped turned upside down
And to a modern viewer I can get coming into this for the first time and being frustrated at just how close to the chest it gets played, but that's also kind of the only way it gets to happen at that point in time?  But I think it ultimately is effective and vital to their individual arcs and dovetails nicely with the themes of the show
Like I remember hearing that original manga creator Chiho Saito was pretty against their paired ending, but with a lot of convincing from Ikuhara ultimately came around to it, and it's hard to imagine the anime's ending working any other way and being nearly as impactful
And there is something really beautiful about the bucking against the established idea of yuri relationships being a childish concept that gets left behind in order to 'grow up' actually becoming the impetus of their own journeys into adulthood and eventually back to each other, and it’s hard not to feel a little disappointed that for this Bold Step and declaration for the future that RGU takes that while yuri is more common than ever it largely continues to exist within the realm of schoolgirls and something to be left behind in adolescence like for RGU’s faults and shortcomings it saw this world of possibility in moving forward, while the genre largely elected to stand still
Tumblr media
And it really speaks to either the timelessness of the show or how much the queer experience has remained constant that even with a tragic ending, that hope, or rather the promise of their reunion, feels bold and defiant and genuinely uplifting even now
Like the moment where just before they reach out to each other one final time, and their voices as children speak out to each other, as if finally fulfilling a promise they barely remember, I really did just start ugly crying
Lastly some assorted closing thoughts--
-Touga?  Punk.  Guy really takes advantage of Utena's whole prince thing to manipulate her, ends up losing to her in the rematch and then fucks off to mope for like AN ENTIRE SEASON then pops back up "oh yea im in love with her literally nothing else about my behavior has changed tho" like lmao you tried i guess
-Also i know Touga's design is p stock standard bishounen ojou-sama type but god this is all i can think about when I see him
Tumblr media Tumblr media
- Green Touga Saionji is a bitch-ass motherfucker but like he at least tried more than anyone else so uh that's something I guess?????
Like the guy clearly has some unresolved feelings about Touga so i'm inclined to be sympathetic bc wow poor choice my dude but also... bitch-ass motherfucker
-Nanami really went through this thing for me where it's like... she's a brat and a shitty person but it's also hard to really dislike her bc she does get what she deserves most of the time and also she gets kinkshamed more than most of the cast despite none of them really having a high ground over her lol
Tumblr media
-Miki did nothing wrong (aside from like the implied incest but that's also like... half the relationships in this show uh)
sidenote I can completely see the notable excess of Incest Subtext/Maintext being intended as like... A Thing to comment on how common it is within shoujo and also tying in to like the bigger themes of Growing Up bc the idea that you’re chasing after your own damn siblings betrays some freudian inability to mature or whatever but tbqh it doesn’t always feel like the show knows the line between commenting on this and indulging in it and RGU is very indulgent by its own nature so I really can’t blame people put off by the show as a whole bc this is an area where RGU is largely indistinguishable from its genre peers
-Juri really did nothing wrong tho also props for having the best duels
-FUCK SHIORI THO for eel 
so obviously i have not seen the show up to now but I've been in yuri circles for a long time so I knew about Juri/Shiori and my perception of it had always been "oh it's one of those kinda messy with complicated feelings" kinda ships where the drama is a big part of the appeal and that's true but like
the actual nature of it I did not realize up to now and OH SHIORI'S REALLY THAT BITCH HUH
So not only does she date that one anonymous guy specifically to spite Juri unaware she doesn't actually like him BUT THEN WHEN THEY GET REUNITED SHE'S JUST LIKE LOL IT DIDNT MATTER BUT HEY WE COOL RIGHT *AND THEN* when she finds out about Juri's feelings she's like HELL YEA I CAN HANG THIS OVER HER HEAD FOREVER FUCK HER
***AND THEN*** when she gets some karma after Ruka dumps her ass she airs her dirty laundry out in front of EVERYBODY like Juri hasn't been dealing with this shit like an absolute champ the whole time like?????
Like ok i get that there's the sad longing drama there and usually that's my jam and the show itself seems to end on kind of an ambiguous note and the follow-up manga from this year seems to leave it as kind of a "maybe" but I'm sorry get Juri a better GF 2020 she deserves better
I saw some Juri/Wakaba going through the tumblr tag for the show and honestly that's some big brain shit I'm here for it
Also now knowing exactly how this dynamic operates it really makes that Jasper/Lapis reference pic one of the SU crew drew of them read very.... interestingly???????? (tho Lapis' design reads a lot closer to Kozue and that's probably a closer personality analogue too)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
-I love that thing in ep 37 where the whole SC is just very casually like hey utena if the whole revolutionizing the world thing with anthy doesn't work out uhhh call me im free haha just kidding unless...? lmao
-I'm pretty uninclined to try to pin precise sexuality HCs to characters for series this old where the ambiguity is part of how its danced around like partly coming from my own experience I'm inclined to read Utena as bi but that really is just coming from me?
But on the other hand literally every time a guy is like "i love you utena come be happy with me and we can love each other forever" she's like "k" after having left them on read for a day and disconnects from them entirely so lesbian going through comphet is a pretty valid read i think lol
-Lastly I think it’s pretty interesting but validly frustrating how fast and loose the show’s relationship with dream logic and non-traditional storytelling really is like when the shadow girls show up I was like “oh this is a greek chorus thing and it’s meant to reflect on the themes of the episode” (or uh in the case of exactly Ep 29 to break from tradition and explicitly tell us what a characters deal is lmao) but then no actually turns out they’re actually real characters who exist within the show too fuck you
ANYWAY I really did love this show and felt like I got a lot out of it despite it being pretty infamously hard to decipher but the ways it's inscrutable appeal to me specifically so very happy with this I'm gonna be thinking about it for a while
20 notes · View notes
365daysofsasuhina · 4 years ago
Text
[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Nine: A Cat Walks By ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Neji, Uchiha Manami ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: We’re Not in Konoha Anymore... ] [ AO3 Link ]
[ Previous ] [ Next ]
Normally, the sight wouldn’t really catch his attention. Bustling as the city is, there are still a share of stray animals out and about, looking for scraps or friendly hands to offer tidbits. Maybe even feel generous enough to take them home.
But something about this just feels...off.
Doing his homework as he always does at the little table outside the cafe, Sasuke finds himself tasked with a reading passage from his literature class. Boring, but at least it’s not that hard. Blinking owlishly as he takes in the text on the page, his lackluster gaze is immediately tempted by something more intriguing: movement.
Glancing up, chin resting against a curled fist, he takes notice of...a long-haired brown cat. It saunters along the lip of the opposing sidewalk, which is surprisingly empty for early afternoon. The tall buildings that flank both sides mean there’s not a scrap of sunshine despite the strip of clear blue sky above them. In the lurking grey down below, nothing really seems out of place.
And yet…
Watching it curiously, Sasuke sees as it sits just above a storm drain, sweeping tail flicking idly, paws aligned neatly with the edge. It almost seems like it’s...waiting for something. Furtive eyes - which Sasuke notices are a strange, pale color he can’t quite put a name to - seem to glance side to side.
...do cats usually do that?
Frowning, Sasuke just...stares as the cat continues to sit, eyeing its surroundings so...oddly grumpily.
And then, without warning, it gets up...and keeps walking right by the cafe.
For a moment, Sasuke weighs his choices. He can...pretend that didn’t seem as odd as it did, and just sit here and keep doing his homework. Or...he can get up and follow it.
Chewing his lip, he glances in where his aunt is still working. Surely she won’t mind, right…?
“I’ll be right back!” he calls just in case, not giving her a chance to refuse him. His book closes with a slap, fleeing his table and taking off down the road.
By now, the feline has slipped around a corner, Sasuke skidding to slow and trying to find it. A more trafficky route, pedestrians block a great deal of his view, but...there! Weaving around ignorant legs, the cat keeps going, oddly calm in the sea of human feet.
That only drives Sasuke further. Apologizing as he pushes his way through the crowds, he struggles to keep the animal in his line of sight until it takes yet another turn into a narrow alley.
Peering into it...Sasuke finds it empty.
A bit out of breath, his brow furrows. Where did it go…? There’s no turns, and it couldn’t have made it around another corner, could it? His eyes flicker up, wondering if it climbed something.
And then he hears a clack.
Perking, Sasuke eases into the narrow gap between the buildings. It’s oddly cold, and he feels the hairs on his neck and arms stand on end.
And then, he spies a wrought iron gate tucked into an inlet he couldn’t see from the street. That must have been what he heard. Did someone let the cat through…?
“...anything?”
He freezes. Someone’s talking…!
“No, nothing. Seems we’ve been stood up again.”
A delicate sigh permeates the quiet. “Well...at least it w-wasn’t a trap.”
“Which is why I insisted on going first. After last time -”
“I know, I...I know. But we have to make money somehow...I don’t want to have to fish through any more dumpsters…”
“I’ll keep stealing if I must.”
“But -!”
“It’s wrong, but we must take care of ourselves. Until more work can be found. I won’t let you come to harm just because this city is -”
As he struggles to see who’s beyond the gate, Sasuke flinches as his foot nudges a bottle. Beyond, he barely makes out a pair of silhouettes: one of a child his age, and another of a cat.
But in the next moment, it changes. Suddenly, the cat is gone. And in its place is...another child? They posture protectively in front of their companion, who quails back in surprise. “Who’s there?!”
At the harsh, hissing tone, Sasuke flinches. How can he explain…?
“Neji, i-it’s okay.”
“But -?”
“Look, they’re just a kid!” There’s a pause. “...maybe...you were followed?”
“Impossible,” the first voice scoffs.
“I...saw a cat acting strange,” Sasuke decides to offer. Being truthful should help, right…? “I just...wanted to see what it was doing.”
The silence sours only to be broken by a wind-chime giggle. “...seems you were followed,” the more feminine voice teases, earning a scoff.
“I’m sorry, I...didn’t mean to bother anyone. Did you guys see that cat? Or where it went?”
Another pause. “He’s, um…” The voice hesitates, and then someone steps forward. A girl, around Sasuke’s own age of thirteen. Dark hair cut short, she has the same pale eyes as that cat! “He’s here.”
“Hinata, I don’t think -?”
“I-it’s fine, Neji. Come on.”
Behind her, the other figure lingers...and then steps forward. Pale eyes, and...long brown hair…
...wait…
Sasuke balks in surprise. “...y...you’re the cat?!”
Arms folding defensively, the boy - he...thinks they’re a boy? - narrows his gaze heatedly. “Nosy brat, aren’t you?”
In spite of himself, Sasuke bristles. “Well it - er, you - were acting funny!”
“It was still none of your business.”
“Neji was o-out on my behalf!” the girl cuts in, physically stepping between the two nervously. “He’s...he’s my familiar. And...my cousin.”
Sasuke blinks in disbelief. “...what?”
“It, well...i-it’s a long story. You see, we -”
“Don’t tell him anything, Hinata,” the one called Neji interrupts sharply, an arm held out to blockade her. “We can’t trust him!”
“But -?”
“I’m not gonna hurt anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sasuke retorts, arms folding. “But it is weird a couple of kids are out here alone. Let alone...changing into cats, and going through people’s garbage. You know that can get you in trouble, right?”
At that, Neji’s face alights an embarrassed red. “How much did you -?!”
“Neji, please,” Hinata counters softly, instantly quieting him. “...maybe...m-maybe he can help…?”
“Him? Help? How?”
“Tell me what you’re doing out here first,” the Uchiha mutters.
The pale-eyed pair exchange a glance...and then Neji concedes with a short sigh, retreating.
“...we come from a long line of witches and...companions,” Hinata begins softly. “One side of the family being gifted in magic, and...the other side meant to protect them. I’m from the f-former, and...Neji is from the latter. For a long time, we would offer our skills in exchange for money, but…” She wilts. “...anymore, we’re treated more like criminals.”
“Lady Hinata was attacked last week,” Neji cuts in, tone hot with anger. “Someone lied, saying they wanted our help, only to try and hurt her. We barely escaped…”
“We offer h-honest work for honest pay,” she mumbles, wilting. “But not everyone s-sees it that way. So we haven’t been able to f-fend for ourselves.”
“Can’t you go home…?” Sasuke asks, confused. “Why are you out here on your own? Aren’t you my age…?”
“We’re meant to go out on our own for a year at thirteen,” Neji explains. “It’s a kind of...training. Surviving on our talents. But that’s an old tradition, no longer suited for a changing world…”
“M-my father won’t let us return until the year is o-over.” Hinata’s tone starts to bubble, threatening to cry.
“Hiashi is a cruel man,” Neji confirms, tone softening as he puts an arm around his cousin’s shoulders. “So we’ve been making due however we can...even if it’s not pretty. Our pride can survive what our stomachs cannot.”
Sasuke, all the while, slowly looks more and more ill at ease. Sending children out on their own? At this age, and for an entire year with no help?! Given the struggles he’s faced himself - losing his parents years ago, his widowed aunt taking in him and his brother on top of her own son and disability - he can understand struggle, but this…?
Looking the pair over, he then makes up his mind, jaw setting. A hand reaches out and takes Hinata’s, much to both of the cousins’ surprise. “C’mon.”
“But -?”
“C’mon!” Offering no other explanation, he starts towing her along. Neji, shocked, shrinks back into his familiar form, tucked safely in Hinata’s remaining arm as she stumbles after Sasuke.
Back down the street they go, around corners until they see the cafe. It’s getting late, but the doors are still open. “Aunty Manami!” Sasuke calls.
Crutch under one arm, the woman makes her way outside, expression stricken and then wilting with relief. “There you are! Where’ve you been?”
“Uh...long story. Hey, is the kitchen still serving?”
“Yeah, for another half an hour - you hungry?”
“No, but...my friends are.” He then pulls Hinata up beside him, the girl pink and clearly flustered.
“...oh!” Manami blinks. “Well, sure. What’ll you have, sweetie?”
“...I-I -?”
“Can she look at a menu, first?”
“Yeah, one sec.”
As she disappears to fetch one, Sasuke guides Hinata to his table. “What are you doing?” she whispers harshly. “I...I don’t have any money!”
“I’ve got an allowance,” Sasuke counters.
“But -!”
“It’s fine. I never spend it, anyway.”
Floundering for words, Hinata wilts as Manami reappears.
“Here you go, kiddo.”
“...thank you.”
Smiling, the woman then glances to her nephew, jerking her head to make him follow her back inside. “So...what’s really going on here, Sasuke?”
“...she got kicked out of her house.”
“What?!”
Without revealing too much, Sasuke spins a half-truth. “I just...wanted to help. She’s been trying to find work but no one’ll take her on.”
Sighing deeply, Manami watches Hinata through the window, Neji standing his front paws on the table from her lap and seeming to read alongside her. “...I have an idea.”
“Wait, what -?”
Gesturing for him to be quiet, Manami heads back outside, startling Hinata as she approaches. The pair talk, voices too muffled for Sasuke to hear. But then the girl threatens to break down into tears again, Neji perching protectively around the back of her neck as she jumps up and latches onto Manami tightly.
What the…?
It then seems like Hinata places her order, and Manami steps back in, looking smug.
“...what did you do?”
“I offered her a job.”
“What?! But -?”
“It’s fine. There’s an empty room over the storage building she can use. I need someone quicker on their feet than me, anyway. She can be my missing foot,” she jokes, swinging her half-missing leg idly.
“...you really…?”
“I know we’re struggling, but one more mouth to feed won’t break us,” Manami insists, waving aside his concern. “For now, she needs something to eat. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”
At that, Sasuke can’t help a small feeling of guilt. Technically, including Neji, there’s two more mouths...but hopefully it won’t make too big of a difference. He’ll just...defer his allowance back to his aunt for a while. Without her knowing, of course.
He doesn’t need it.
Heading back outside, Sasuke gives a sheepish smile. “...well, guess that’s happening, huh?”
Hopping back to her feet, Hinata seems to fight back tears. “...thank you…!”
“It’s okay, really -”
“No...t-this is…” Lacking the words, she just bows her head shyly.
Atop her shoulders, Neji blinks slowly.
“...well...consider it payback for being nosy,” Sasuke then offers nonchalantly, glancing aside. “Guess you have Neji to thank, really.”
Straightening, Hinata blinks before giggling, a hand reaching up to scritch at his ears. “...yeah. I do.”
Tumblr media
     Welp, this is...technically yesterday’s prompt, I’m behind. My darn toothache just got the better of me u_u Not sure if I’ll catch up tonight but I’ll try!      Anyway, if anyone can guess what movie this is based off of, you get ten internet points because it is my all-time favorite movie xD A bit changed around, but...well, I didn’t want to copy it exactly. But I’m still calling this my crossover verse for lack of anything else that fits lol      Manami is an OC of mine, Mikoto’s older sister and Shisui’s mother! In canon she loses half of a leg during the Nine Tails’ attack, so...I usually have her that way in other universes, too. She’s a very sweet bean, I love her ;w; In modern verses she usually takes Itachi and Sasuke in after their parents’ death, like here.      Anywho! Gonna take a break and see if I can must up another one before passing out for the night lol - if not, I’ll just try again tomorrow xD Thanks for reading!
10 notes · View notes
etirabys · 5 years ago
Text
fifth night back in korea
Today I picked up my least favorite Korean passport so far – I delighted myself by having a very bad photo for the one I got in 2012, and a really attractive genderless looking photo in 2017; this time I look unkempt but airbrushed, which is not as good as very bad or very good. Then I took the giant to Minsokchon, which is a nearby ‘living folk village’. It’s got reconstructed houses from three different regions and three different social classes smashed into one location so you can get an overview of how people lived, although all the houses looked suspiciously decent to live in.
Tumblr media
I’ve been there twice or so, for field trips, and was utterly bored. This time I was with the giant, who was so excited about everything and communicated this to me, and there were cats. Probably they were always there but I never knew because they wisely fled from loud hordes of schoolchildren. These two (beautiful! soft! nuzzly!) completely distracted me from informational boards about traditional dyeing processes for ten minutes.
Tumblr media
The one on the right came up to us soon afterwards and wanted pettings!
Tumblr media
Eventually I did go read the boards, one of which is about tie-dyeing. I was surprised by this because tie-dyed fabric does not feature in any traditional Korean wear I know of, and – more surprisingly – any culture’s tradition that comes to my mind. I’m sure there must be many, because it’s so obvious and easy and looks cool, but my only association with it is Californian young people.
There were lots of people in hanbok in Minsokchon, because many touristy places in Korea have adjacent hanbok rental stores, and there are people hired to perform traditional dances and music. This really turned me off as a child visiting Minsokchon, because all the hanbok was elaborate and brightly dyed, and clearly mapped to what rich people would have worn for nice occasions. Young me thought this was horribly inauthentic and felt cheated of a historical experience.
But present me is delighted by Minsokchon and its garishly dressed tourists as a 21st century cultural phenomenon, and not disappointed in Minsokchon as an inadequate 19th century recreation. In a similar way, where young me was annoyed by descriptions of history or old culture that were obviously nationalistic mythmaking – “this is a clearly biased description of how this battle went, I’m learning very little about what actually happened, fuck whoever wrote this, I’m not listening to you” – present me is interested and amused – “Ooh, a piece of the national mythmaking project that permeates and holds up Korean society today!”
We also saw some awful drawings of tigers, without which no overview of Korean art is complete. (The giant: “I’m sorry dear, but Korean people had no idea what tigers looked like.”)
Tumblr media
There were also “experiential activities”, which I didn’t realize until I saw penned horses, expressed mystification, and the giant told me they were meant to be ridden by tourists. “It’s a traditional experience they offer, in addition to the ‘punishment experience’!” he said, showing me the pamphlet.
Tumblr media
The Local Government Office had a Punishment Courtyard with ground-parallel crucifixes and sticks to hit restrained convicts with, and a jail for the convicts. The jail started off with an assortment of modest, straightforward torture implements in the first cell; a set of beaten-up, fettered male mannequins in the second cell, labeled ‘light crimes’; a pair of bloody-faced, pilloried male mannequins in the third cell, labeled what I thought was ‘medium crimes’. The fourth cell, where I expected to find the very abused victims convicted of ‘serious crimes’, enraged and disappointed me by containing only a hot well-dressed female mannequin sitting normally, who did not appear to be inconvenienced in the least. Writing this out, I just realized that I must have misread the ‘중' in the word I thought meant ‘medium crimes’ as being 'middle’, which is the Chinese character that most commonly maps to that sound in Korean. But I now remember that the sound is also mapped to by the character for ‘heavy, serious’, so those cells must have been for ‘light vs serious crimes’. Ah, well, I forgive them for leading me to expect an exciting progression.
But probably the funniest thing I saw during the trip was in the museum attached to the folk village – a description of a practice in a particular province where, when someone was giving birth, their husband would have a rope tied around their topknot and have it yanked through a door. The explanation at the bottom explains that this is to “be together in the pain of childbirth”. By the way, all the illustrations in the museum were in this same watercolor anime style.
Tumblr media
The giant is a great person to do museum experiences with. He’s traveled a lot in his life, and also is a curious person who really paid attention to the answers to the questions he asked throughout his lifetime about how things worked, and mentally assimilated them into one fluid, working map of the world. The result is that he just seems to know things, and when I wonder out loud why something is the way it is, or why people did things a certain way, he’ll give me the answer (and my reaction is frequently “how on earth did you know that?”) or an informed, plausible-sounding guess I couldn’t have generated. I expressed surprise that the Korean anvil looked so much like Western anvils when we were looking at a reconstruction of a traditional ironworking shop, and he explained why anvils are shaped the way they are, and the known or probable function of each subpart. He’s awfully attractive.
At the end of the trip, we met ANOTHER cat who came right up to me when I squatted down to say hello, and decided the area between my calves and coat was like a warm box that was now For Cat.
Tumblr media
Rare photo of the giant, who is wearing a mask because he has a cold and Korea is a civilized place where you can wear masks when you are sick without having people looking at you like you have the plague. Cat hopped up on his leg upon the slightest encouragement and mrowed plaintively when he relocated it the ground because the village was closing.
Tumblr media
Poor cat! I know he’s a very good person to sit on and get scritches from. I am sorry you only had him for a few minutes when I intend to hog him for decades.
45 notes · View notes
recentanimenews · 4 years ago
Text
REVIEW: The Eizouken Live-Action Movie Takes a Hands-Off Approach to the Source Material
Tumblr media
  A note on safety: The following movie review undertook the strictest of safety procedures to watch the anime film in cinemas in Japan, including washing hands with disinfectant before and after, sitting in seats apart from others, going to a cinema outside of the busy metro area, and wearing a mask during the entire runtime of the movie. We strongly urge everyone to follow the recommended safety protocol in your country and always wear a mask when in public — not just for your sake, but everyone else’s as well.
  Let’s talk about faxes.
  I promise that it will make sense soon.
  To this day, faxes are huge in Japan. A lot of people, especially small business owners and freelancers, use them to send out invoices and the like, which must also be stamped with their personal seal known as a hanko. It’s an inescapable part of the giant, slow-to-change bureaucratic machine that permeates everyday life in Japan. Japan’s new administrative reform minister, Taro Kono, recently declared war on hanko and faxes, but it’ll be an uphill battle because Japan is basically the DMV if it became a country, with endless forms, applications, stamps, etc. It would actually be a pretty good topic for a satirical anime or something. But it’s not really the right topic for an Eizouken movie. Yet that’s what Tsutomu Hanabusa's live-action adaptation, which premiered on September 25, is ultimately all about.
  The original Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken! manga and anime had a pretty straightforward story: a trio of high school friends start a club to make traditional, hand-drawn anime. There was, of course, much more to it under the surface — like a look at how an artist’s environment influences their work, the very specific details that make anime feel more real, the delicate balance between creativity and realistic time/resource management necessary in any kind of artistic production, etc. The original story admittedly also had its flashier moments, though most of them took place in the imaginations of the three main characters: Midori Asakusa, Sayaka Kanamori, and Tsubame Mizusaki. On the whole, Eizouken is a celebration of the artistic spirit and a goofy, energetic love-letter to an industry that rarely loves animators back with its long hours and creative compromises.
Tumblr media
    The Eizouken live-action movie, on the other hand, has combat scenes, tactical police raids, elaborate battles, and, if I understood it correctly, a typhoon in a box. None of those are from the anime produced by the Eizouken club. They all happen within the movie’s “real” world and their goal is to push forward the idea that bureaucracy is bad.
  Let me explain. In the manga and anime, the Student Council at Asakusa, Kanamori, and Mizusaki’s school was mostly an occasional roadblock they had to overcome to get some money for their club or to screen their finished anime. They did have a more prominently antagonistic role in the Culture Festival episode where they utilized their own security force, but to call them the villains would be really missing the point of the story. So anyway, the Student Council is 100 percent the villain of the Eizouken movie.
  In the live-action film, the Student Council runs the school with its own paramilitary force that they use to enforce the ideas of Total Bureaucracy. They intervene in afterschool activities, merging existing clubs according to their whims, even if it doesn’t make a lick of sense. They can only be fought with signed forms and the like. They hate Eizouken because they represent disorder and because their existence challenges their rule-obsessed �� rule. All of this was definitely a small part of the manga and anime but here, it’s been dialed up to 11 and given center stage, all to create an easily-recognizable Big Bad for the Eizouken girls.
Tumblr media
  Image via Amazon Prime
  All of that doesn’t make the movie bad. On its own, it’s a semi-enjoyable story about insane high-school girls so obsessed with their administrative duties that they organize an armed police raid on their friends while yelling: “Don’t let them make that anime!” It’s a bit funny. But it’s not Eizouken.
  An interesting thing about the live-action Eizouken movie is that it was supposed to premiere back in May (but got pushed back because of COVID-19) so it could follow the live-action series that aired before it. The series covers the events from the first chapter/episode up until the Student Council budget review, while the movie cuts down all that story into about 40-45 minutes and fills the rest of its runtime with new footage concluding with the screening of the Robot Club anime. This really hurts the movie because it was written with the assumption that the audiences have all seen the series, so a lot of crucial context is missing. Why do Asakusa, Kanamori, and Mizusaki have a problem with the Student Council? Covered in the series. How did they get their dilapidated clubhouse? Covered in the series. Why is there a cheerleader rebellion happening on the school grounds? Covered in the series.
  If you’ve read the manga or seen the anime you won’t have trouble following it, although you probably will have trouble recognizing your favorite characters. Literally, the entire main cast is wrong. You remember how Mizusaki could flawlessly switch between her geek and model persona? Well, now she gets a bit flustered when people ask for her autograph. Also, there are no traces of the detailed-obsessed aspiring animator left in her (the film as a whole focuses very little on the actual act of making anime which is definitely ... a choice.) She’s not annoying or a bad influence. It’s not a terrible direction. It's just different. In the movie, Kanamori has exactly one scene where she can demonstrate her producer and money-and-resource-procuring skills and it happens off-screen. The rest of the time, she mainly yells at Asakusa and Mizusaki for not focusing. She did get a few more character-building scenes in the TV series but movies are meant to be as self-contained as possible so it would have been nice to see that here.
Tumblr media
  Image via Amazon Prime
  Asakusa is probably the worst. In the manga and anime, she was an adventurer, a dreamer, a hard worker, a fully-rounded person. She had trouble with crowds or public speaking but she was brave in other areas, and she knew exactly what she wanted. The live-action Asakusa has a violent physical reaction when strangers talk to her. She also cries A LOT. She constantly has the look of a lost kitten about her, afraid of the world and what it might do to her. The animated/drawn Asakusa loved the world. She was fascinated and inspired by it to create anime. The live-action Asakusa does design to escape the real world because it scares her. Maybe this type of character could’ve worked in another series, but this just doesn't feel like Eizouken.
  A lot of the choices in the movie are weird like that. The recap of the TV series happens in the form of a parody of samurai movies like Rashomon. There’s another parody of a Japanese variety show after that. A few American movie spoofs are also thrown in later. That’s possibly a commentary on modern entertainment, which would make sense in a story titled Eizouken (lit. “motion picture studies”), but the point of the anime and manga is that these girls aren’t making or studying general “motion pictures.” They make anime. Hand-drawn anime. They hammer in the difference between regular cinema and anime a lot. It’s one of the themes of Eizouken. But not in the live-action film, because, apparently, when the screenwriter read the name Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken, they took it as a suggestion to stay as far away from the source material as possible.
  Have you seen the live-action Eizouken movie or TV series? What did you think of them? Let us know in the comment section!
Tumblr media
      Cezary writes words on the internet. You should follow him on Twitter.
  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!
1 note · View note