#the onion rambles

[d6b-onion]

this video has been going around for a while but the English subtitles didn't match the energy of the spoken French at all. i had to fix it.

reblog to spread this version

[foldingfittedsheets]

My coworker Astrid and I are working together and I saw this post about Google having to sell chrome and how the funniest possible outcome would be The Onion buying Chrome.

Astrid frowned slightly and hesitantly said, “That’s not a very reputable source…”

I blinked. My brain recalibrated and I then stated, “The Onion is satire. Did you know it’s satire?”

I watched all the stages of grief flit across her face as she reevaluated everything she knew about The Onion and she whispered in horror, “That makes so much more sense now.”

Apparently a right-wing family member had cited The Onion to back up an argument. She went to their site, scanned it and wrote it off as right wing drivel before being today years old when she learned differently.

I said in glee, “You have the opportunity to do the funniest thing at the next family gathering.”

[morethanmemory]

alright phosphorus phuckers listen up

now some of you may disagree with me but honestly i don't think phosphorus is very smooth when he genuinely starts falling for someone

he can do sarcastic, snarky smartass but oh nooooooo let him fall in love a little and watch him start stammering

[post-it-notes7]

Awwwww Dark is such a cutie patootie making food for him. If Falspar doesn't eat it I'll shatter him myself trust 😤😌

DMK could hand him a package of uncooked spaghetti and I think Mir Falspar would just sigh and start munching at this point

[beanmaster-pika]

Okay realistically Jing Yuan is probably encouraging Yanqing to make friends because I don’t think he has a lot between his training and work, but my immediate read of this was Area Dad Heartbreakingly Thinks His Connections Can Help Son Find Love

[somanywords]

had a good cry and now i'm coping by making way too much soup

[ventique18]

"Tears? Where did these tears come from? Why? I am not at all sad nor hurt.

... Or is this because my body is wracked in such pent up, centuries-old agony that the tears spilled by themselves? Is it that though my mind no longer remembers, my body still grieves the loss of both my mother and my father? That I still yearn for the love that I have accepted I could never have? Or is it the childish, selfish wish that I could have had what Silver had-- that Lilia could have joyfully celebrated my childhood with me like he did with Silver, instead of making me memorize an entire dictionary of an obscure language in a single daylight? When I was but thirty (3, in human perspective)? Or tossing me off a cliff to hasten my flight?

Indeed, perhaps there are times when I wish I could go back to the past and spend my days more warmly with him. Sitting on the grass and snacking on berries and acorns and whatnot.

Ah tears, tears. The honesty that I could never, as a man of my position, say out loud."

🌸: "Hornton... We're slicing onions. That's... That's what they do. They make anyone cry. It's science."

🐉: "I see. How humiliating."

🐉: "Don't tell Silver. Or Lilia. Or Sebek. Or anyone, for that matter."

🌸: "Don't worry, I didn't hear anything."

[secondbeatsongs]

the maillard reaction is taking its sweet fucking time today boys

[groundrootvegetable]

i want to know everything about everyone’s personal dragonborns, heros of kvatch, nerevarines, and any other elder scroll silly that’s been made. i love them all so much do you know how cool it is to see characters that are so vastly different from my own despite going through similar scenarios, and then seeing where they relate all at the same time?? auhghgjh the situations.. the… the scenes…

[starrysharks]

onion's canon fashion sense

[tonydaddingham]

Good Omens S2 + Onion Headlines (Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Aziraphale Special | Crowley Special)

+ bonus

[d6b-onion]

"apartment complex? i find it quite simple." — Kosuzu Motoori

[oniondraws]

He looks so crusty

[saint-hymn]

no because see if we're talking c!tntduo, especially c!wil,

for me its always "almost" with these freaks. almost acting on it, almost closer than they should be, almost, almost, just enough to make c!wil feel alive and more. arm's length. unhealthy distance or lack thereof. get the blood pumping and yank himself away at the last moment. leave them both wanting like some fucked up starved kenneled animal, like stretching a rubber band, like hunger-thirst and the omnipresent want. you get me? the bassline, the base note of this story is wanting-needing-wanting. and

let's look at who's on the table today. just one half, sorry, c!Wilbur. i sanctify and canonize him now as the patron saint of almost-there. one must imagine Tantalus happy. hold onto that sentence for me while we go through this.

his hand slams the button and he almost leaves a mark; his poignant point was additionally steamrolled after this fact and no one even bothered to give him a proper burial, a proper memorial, because who mourns a fucking costume, a typecast homicidal maniac?

he almost won. he almost got it. he was almost happy. they were almost free. he almost proved a point to big Q. he was almost seen. he was almost understood. he almost made up for his wrongs kind of maybe not quite probably not, but he almost, he almost, he almost,

he almost forgave himself?

(kind of maybe not quite probably not.)

he was almost loved he was almost seen as human it almost wrapped up perfectly it almost had a cherry on top but, again, the thing about desire is it's stronger when it's not totally satisfied. c!q holds him with a desperation and he digs from q's gaze only an understanding of himself. this is not a two way radio.

the cherry on top is that this is his penance now, his stupid little ending no one likes. for what? for failure? for being the sly motherfucker he is? for being too stubborn and too arrogant to take up quackity's offer and, by extent, always always keeping him at arms length always leaving them both oh so fucking wanting?

he's now in the middle of bum fucking nowhere with no one who loves him with no one who knows him with none to show for how he clawed through the thirteen years of limbo except some scars and claustrophobia and a longing loneliness haunting him. there are no winners here, no trophies no grand ending. he ran off from his problems, as always.

congratulations, mr. president, you are now some unknown gas station clerk. another costume to wear, another character to play, forbidden from exiting stage left and being, what, himself? as if, honestly.

there is a want there, if you squint. does quackity want him to open up so he could close the distance, say what is always stuck in his throat, or taxidermy him like a trophy?

is this love, or fascination? is this affection, or obsession?

i think even under the gaze of someone that completely matches his freak and considers him not untouchably demonic but simply unpredictable i.e. c!quackity you could never find what he is. if you keep taking off his costumes there would just be more. if you keep taking off the mask his face would contort to more. if you're something so used to being forgotten you wouldn't even bother being yourself because who would even remember that? you keep peeling off his mask, facade after facade, and at some point you'd just be digging at dirt. you can't solve this puzzle, only pick it apart and ruin it

of course he can't be honest and open up, there's nothing in there. it's all a play, an actor, a lesson in dramaturgy. he'll open up when he's cold and dead on the operating table.

i am looking at c!quackity elbow-deep in the actor-metaphors on the operating table and i am asking: was it worth it? did you get what you seek, what you *wanted* from him? is this your idea of being closer than arms length? will you keep this as a trophy, too, that you have finally understood the misunderstood?

remember the bassline: want. need/want.

is the stage too big for c!wil or is he too ambitious. is the world too wide and his flames too dim? did he waste his shot, one piece of lead against leviathans? is he so lost in his own layers and layers of costumes he couldnt ever find himself again even if he begged to? i would ask "why, despite everything?/why, when everything was done?/why, when you tried your best?" but then he'd be asking the same question with a pinch more desperation and buddy neither of us has the answer here

there it is again, then, a stalemate of the omnipresent want.

the want to get-what-you-want (the hands grasping at the retreating water and reeling fruits / the hands grasping at burning flags and broken swords / the hands grasping at poker chips and glossy cards)

the want to understand (i push my thumbs into this caricature of actors and only façades split)

the want to be understood (c!quackity looked at him like he was human, through it all, and under q's gaze he was alive)

one must imagine Tantalus happy.

[jellyjamheadobb]

She is so baby, I love her

Her without my stupid text lol

[onceinawhilemoon]

The Tale of The Empty House Quest and The Power of Imagination

There's something that I haven't noticed before in the ending credits of SHCO.

The credits show Stonewood Manor in a “past vs. present” sequence. We see the rooms as they were in the past: vibrant, warm, and beautiful, before they transform into the present: dark, cold, and ramshackled.

But the present here isn't just the present; it's Sherlock’s present while he was staying in the manor, and we can see ALL THE AUCTIONED PIECES THAT WE'VE BEEN BUYING THROUGHOUT THE GAME and even that sketch of Ms. Nini's fugly thief in Sherlock's room.

Like, I did wonder how Sherlock managed to refurbish and repaint every room and make them look as good as new all by himself with just a scant few items of furniture, but I never really gave it much thought, simply attributed it to game logic and rolled with it.

BUT THAT'S THE THING. He never really did.

I did wonder how Sherlock put his hand through the lit fireplace to retrieve Mycroft's key, and didn't give it much thought either because again, game logic, but that fireplace was never lit to begin with.

To Sherlock, when he set to “refurbish” the manor–which entailed him buying whatever auctioned items he could find still being sold around Cordona because like a decade had passed–and to us playing as him as we progressed in the Tale of the Empty House quest, the house started to look warm and colorful and beautiful:

In reality, though, they were just those items that he restored here and there and everything else HE WAS SEEING IN HIS OWN MIND and the ending credits show us what the manor actually looked like while we were in it:

Which means that the entire time that we were running around the house with Jon and that beautiful soundtrack as we reminisced and lovingly renovated and decorated it with trophies and case memorabilia, we were running around that same dark, cold, decaying building from the start of the game, except for those little additions here and there...

And if you look at the restored items, you’ll notice how the family portrait is still unveiled, the carpet isn't fully rolled out, Jon’s bed isn't positioned against the wall like it should have been, and there's a covered painting atop the closet in Sherlock's room that didn't originally belong there.

Everything that we reclaimed from the shops looks messily and hurriedly put together–Sherlock is a one man after all and a very busy one–and yet, his creativity and imagination were powerful enough to fill in the rest.

All this time we spent in the “refurbished” Stonewood Manor, we were simply living inside a memory. We were in Sherlock's mind seeing a product of his imagination so vivid that it created a real sense of presence in the revived manor–as real as Jon was to him–despite the actual state of disrepair.

I don't know why it never occurred to me before. It's pretty obvious now, and it makes so much sense; there was no way Sherlock was going to find everything that was auctioned still being sold and intact (and he didn't, the items he found were like 10 or 13 tops) and make the house look like that all by himself. He could have hired people to repaint and clean and bought similar furniture, I guess, but that's just far-fetched to me. He barely even spent time in the manor to put all of this extra effort on renovations.

I sobbed uncontrollably when I realized this sgsjiwise (the ending credits already make me so weak, especially with that damned music UGH).

I don't know. There's something so bittersweetly pure about him trying to reclaim the space that was once his own with whatever minimal resources he had available. Whatever he couldn't find, he simply substituted with creativity and imagination, and that was enough to imbue the space with warmth and a real sense of home sweet home. It's almost reminiscent of the way a child plays make-belief. I think it's a beautiful testament to the power of imagination, how it has the ability to transform environments and create a sense of belonging.

And then, just like 10 years ago as if he still lived there, he went around and put up posters and trophies and memorabilia, despite knowing that he wasn't staying there for long, and that once he left, it was forever. It's like he wanted to experience what it was like living in the manor one last time, leaving one last imprint saying, “I was here.”

I wonder what Mycroft thought of it all when he came back later to check on Sherlock. He must have at least gone through the entire ground floor in order to get to the back garden, so he must have seen all the restored items and the very personal traces of his brother's short-lived presence scattered among the junk and clutter of their dilapidated old home. I imagine they starkly stood out not just because they were not supposed to be there, but because of how they were like little touches of life in an otherwise dead and quiet space that'd been dead and quiet for a long time..

I really admire how FW managed to set up the sense of nostalgia in this game. Not just nostalgia, but “vicarious nostalgia”. I kept having that wistful longing for places I haven't personally been and experiences I haven't personally lived but felt very connected to through Sherry's (and Jon's) memories and stories (there's like a German word for this phenomenon I'm pretty sure but I forgor) but I guess SHCO does tab into something for all of us, right? Childhood innocence and memories, imaginary friends, leaving your childhood home and coming back years later... There's a little something there for everyone to relate to, I think.