page 15 of part 3 of that old thing. Cramped again, but since I did not hold myself to an ink drawing before I figured out the dialog, it is cramped in a less dysfunctional manner. In fact there were 3 extra frames that I sent to the next page to free up space on this one, which would have been great had I not then I drawn three new frames to go between the ones that were left.
I am concerned that this flashback is more interesting and less restricted than the “main” “”story,”” with all its vague bullet points in the future and the past, whose integrity must be maintained through excessive dialog to remind everyone that I remember everything. But that is perhaps the real heart of elpse’s urgency: get out of boring buildings and go somewhere, to stop talking and start solving things. Although if that were true, why would it spend three pages introducing new matters to solve?
I never changed the front page of this website to be general purpose and remotely respectable, like I implied I ought to a year or comparable period ago. However, I have added dumb trendy social meddlesome icons at the top of the page, thereby making it less respectable, in a quick hackly attempt to have the page not be immediately confusing to people to whom I swindle into taking my bizmitz cards.
Now somebody else’s corporate trademarks are all over my page. I feel like a nascar driver. Except I am not getting loads of money. But I am not having to drive nas cars either, which is a bonus I did not foresee.
The icons are terribly ugly, and since my design sense, and more importantly my css skills are terribly lacking, all I can do is place the things in a row. If you have good design sense you can get away with terribly ugly. I have tried to get away for years but they just keep coming.
Also, with disrespect to the business cards, on the same day I changed my twitter account name from zinkugel to bimshwel. I already had a bimshwel, on which I only posted what I felt were respectable things. Since that amounted to very few things, I printed the other name on the cards, so that a person who checked might be disgusted but at least not assume I had abandoned it. But now if they check zinkugel they will get nothing, since I thought it would be confusing and non-intuitive if I simply changed the former bimshwel into zinkugel. It is now “bimshwelcomic.”
Additionally, I had not wanted there to be two bimshwels and then a yimpinkilp. There would need to be at least 3 out of 4 as bimshwel. Just 2 looks bad. I have momentary flashes of design sense if they make my work harder and prevent me from getting results. I feel like the more stupid websites there are, the fewer people I know on any one of them. So now I have to put the exact same thing in 17 different places, to reach about 12 people. And of course the more time I spend doing that, the less I can concentrate on production of the things I am showing. So it seems like I am getting more and more enthusiastic about worse and worse things. Which would be great, if it were true; gushing about garbage is how you make friends in ternet, but in actuality I am just tired. No time to rest! However, for once this means safety conditions will improve because my “job” is to draw unfortunate beings getting hurt, and if I cannot do it well, everyone’s health should improve.
I was going to have the icons hanging from the inside of this moron’s wing-skin, as if it was trying to sell the things in violation of law, but I have no idea how to make individual parts of a picture clickable. Image-maps are a nightmare of 1990s era html. What I can do now is make separate images for each (like I have done) and enter x and y coordinates for each of them (but not their entire areas as I would need to with an image-map), and then figure out how to make them not jump around separately at different screen resolutions. But they would have to be very tiny, wouldn’t they! And that smiling big-snouted fool would need to be terribly prominent on my page. Although I like the idea of such useless trinkets being offered by such a clueless individual. Hey dork, nobody would EVER pay you for those stupid icons! And it would keep on smiling.
Rygar Racing, the sport of kings.
I realize Rygar is technically a princess by virtue of his tiara and improper to be wagered upon by a king in most contemporary constitutional monarchies, but times were much tougher in his day. And for that matter, days were much tougher in his time.
Additionally, in this case it refers to non-kings playing the video game rygar against each other in a race to completion of it. The crowds have turned out in great numbers to view the splendor of its spectacle.
How much do I have to pay the “games done quick + 2016” people to STOP playing rygar? They could be DONE with it far more quickly.
And I say this as somebody who owns a framed copy of Rygar. I know what it is capable of. The frame is not for ITS protection.
I have a cruel, stupid life. Somehow or another I was informed in advance that the Rygar match would take place at approximately 8:30am beastern irregular time, and I became fixated on the idea of reporting this, on twitter, live as the event was in progress, which meant violating my sleep schedule in a most unfortunate manner, to wake up at 8am, like a person with a life, to do a largely lifeless thing. However, what sleep I had was restless and filled with made up mental images of rygar-playing. Which is to say, I had a dream about watching somebody else play Rygar. Could my existence be any more empty?
When I awoke I saw that the event had been rescheduled. At this point I ascertained that the effort put into keeping matters on schedule was faulty, and after several days of doing games quickly, but slightly less quickly than anticipated, everything on the list had been bumped forward four hours. Even to get one’s self psychologically prepared for Rygar that seems high. I had earlier noticed that posted videos were consistently a 3-10 minutes longer than the estimates, but I wasn’t expecting 4 whole hours to go missing. And they hadn’t:
I checked back around the 12:40ish adjusted start point, got my computer in the mood to watch videos, and then realized that the times had reverted to more or less what they were the first time I looked, which was by now four hours ago. I had, earlier in the day, forgotten that on the previous day’s visit to the Rygar schedule, I had only temporarily enabled scripts on the website, since I hate, and always have hated, when videos automatically try to load, which a video streaming website of course will want to do. It had not struck me that one of the scripts might have been adjusting the schedule to reflect my time zone, despite the considerably more dinkity, glitched font that replaced the fancy one when I saw the incorrect time. I am accustomed to living with broken things (in part from growing up with the likes of Rygar), and so do not necessarily assume somebody else’s thing looking broken is a cause for investigation.
To summarize, I dreamt about Rygar, woke up early to watch Rygar, and then missed it, and I felt bad for missing Rygar, and had to wait two days for the Rygar to be posted in non-live form, and somehow made it a matter that took me a week to get around to writing about, rather than just making a few brief statements within the limited window that somebody else might care. And the truth of the matter is that my internet is too crummy to facilitate live-streamed video anyhow, and trying to process it often knocks my computer unconscious. I literally have no reason to live. Which makes my life a curiosity worthy of study and consequently worth continuing.
With that said, the fact that one of these people is simply called “darkwing duck” while plainly being a man [playing RYGAR] is terribly amusing to me. Also, I don’t know which of them it is. What a scary thought, to be in a room with a man named Darkwing Duck and not even be able to determine who it is. If your NAME is Darkwing Duck and people call you that in public, you ought to at least be dark, have wings, or be a duck. It was my belief that the internet nickname concept broke down in person; nobody should be able to use such varied, ridiculous names with seriousness when all the people they address look and behave fundamentally the same. I realize this is hardly original observations; the laughing at of nerd gimmicks executed in public was a staple of comedy television prior to nerds having loads of cash and becoming higher in number than not-necessarily-nerds. I further acknowledge that nobody on television has or will ever talk to me, while with nerds it is still possible, and I stand to gain nothing by attempting to irritate them. But the overall message of this bimshwel posting is that I do not do things for “reasons.”
A few years ago I sneered at the idea of paying somebody else to play video games (and other stupid things disconnected from value or necessity), but years before that I proposed paying people specifically to play really poorly-made video games well, so that the general population unable to devote their lives to enduring such abusive garbage could still fulfill any curiosity that the game’s existence might bring forth.
In that case, Battletoads. Of course it was bloody boring and I never posted it, and apparently erred in assuming that the Battletoad authors knew the correct names of Double Dragon enemies; the guy with the gun is actually named Willy, and I only know that from reading, within the past three months, another internet account of somebody complaining about the Battletoads game getting the gun guy’s name incorrect. Which, by the logic I was using in 2005 or thereabouts, makes weblog writers more qualified to design Double Dragon games than the people who were paid to make Battletoad games for several years. Also apparently there is a different Double Dragon guy named “Will” who has neither a machine gun nor a Y, and BT+DD also identifies him as “Lopar,” without considering that is just “Roper” again Romanized differently. I now know far, far too much about this.
They at least wouldn’t be able to point to this old magazine contest and say “blame whoever won that! It was their idea!”
But that is all well because I would hate to have paid somebody ten million dollars to do it when I could just get a whole bunch of other people to pay another organization entirely considerably smaller sums.
In this case now, game-quality is not a factor and the players do not keep the money, but the important thing is that they play exceptionally well. They are not regular dorks running a game at an average, unrehearsed pace, or worse, complete schlubs running a game for the first time and putting forth no effort but assuming their poor playing is inherently noteworthy.
Having said that, I have little interest in seeing a game I have not myself used being played very well, because I will have no concept of the challenge involved, how big a deal it is to have the challenge averted, how many of the original obligations are being skipped entirely, and, perhaps most importantly, the feeling of having a personal investment. The Quick-Game-Doer videos, specifically the one for Final Fantasy Threex, is often accompanied by viewer comments like “I’ve never played this game before and I’m so glad to see it” which seems to me the worst way to experience it first. The player is running from every encounter, skipping all the dialog, and you can’t hear any of the music, which is some of the best there is for the Superb Nintendo system, and just generally doing nonsensical-looking things that you would never do when playing properly. And also there are hundreds of videos already online of any of these games but especially this one that you could watch, some that aren’t even nonsensical, if you have such an ancient unfulfilled curiosity, why do you need somebody else to dump it in front of you? Sometimes they accompany this with a donation, so the totally stupid comment gets read during the video. It is like eating dessert before dinner. Except you are watching someone else eat it. And paying to influence what fork they use. For example, the background graphic is determined by which gets most money pledged to it. And the competing categories accumulate over thirty thousand dollars. From about 20 different people. Not quite ten million, but still more than that singular aspect is worth. And then people re-donate to bring their preferred image back into control. I believe in charity, but knowing what motivates people to part with their money is a form of illogic I will never be in accord with.
I like to think that my life has more meaning than that of the sort of person who can toss a thousand dollars at dominance of what appears behind the mostly skipped-past text, for charity or otherwise, but I haven’t successfully procured so much money that I CAN toss a thousand dollars away. I could go to the bank and get a few hundreds but I would have to tie them to strings before tossing them so that would they be assured of coming back. Most of these people that I laugh at for devoting themselves to frivolous matters are getting loads of dollars with apparently enough time left over to watch other people play video games all week in. Maybe not Rygar, but there was also an Ironsword race.
And even with fore-knowledge a good game-showing can be frustrating, if a specific area that I would like to see executed skillfully is skipped in pursuit of the most efficient route to the primary game objective. And so it is almost better to see a live run of a game compared to an ideal take from something the person has recorded multiple times, since I can see how a good player recovers from error.
And specifically with regard to the “race” videos, I watched a few, and they were ultimately not so interesting, since both players were pursuing the same path, using the same glitches and exploits. Very little was improvised. When one player got ahead, as a result of an isolated random obstacle or one the other messing up, they stayed ahead. Much like a running race, I suppose. And so you can get a better sense of full completion, exploration, and the consequences of failure by watching a schlub’s video, but that will take them far longer, hours, days, to accomplish, they’ll usually be talking over it, and you can’t interact with them, and you are living through someone else doing something you could do yourself and feel less dirty for the time spent on it. It is not like tennis where you need a special huge setup, a human opponent in close proximity and the capacity for physical exertion. If you have two working phalanx digits, you have the capacity to play Battletoads poorly.
Thankfully, future generations will never have to.
The primary trouble here is that I never fully determined what the space orb actually looks like close up. When making this page, I tried a number of different ways once I got to the frame with the door, hoping to come up with something better and retroactively apply it to the similar frame from the previous page, and none were good when it came to trying to add a technically feasible or aesthetically functional door. I had the same problem with the awkward stair substitute on page 6. I just plain don’t know enough about real things to design good fake ones. I once knew somebody who never practiced at art, but was obsessed with military technology (and military life in general, after he was kicked out and dumped into a civilian life he no longer understood after being too injured by the thing he did understand) and consequently was good at designing and depicting non-existent mechanical things. Of course being obsessed with military anything is going to be bad news in some way but it turned out to be a more functional bad news than the ones I contributed.
In case you could not tell, and you probably couldn’t, I had reverted to using ink on page 12. Midway through page 13, however, my old inkwell pen, the one I could locate of the two I own, stopped dispensing ink properly (and “properly” was rather erratic) and I had to switch to one of my disposable pens, whose stock I have not replenished or even assured was present in more than five years. Disposable pens create a more consistent, and predicable result, but also one that is considerably less striking. But ultimuttley it is irrelevant, as i have re-reached the re-realization that while I appreciate the look of well-applied ink, I am never going to be exceptional at applying it. And also that every time I use ink, quite apart from the quality of the things I can draw, that complicates completion of all the things I cannot draw, since I can only fully construct them digitally after scanning the paper, which means, first of all, that they will not HAVE the ink aesthetic, and also that the space is already determined before I know how much space I actually need, which will result in considerable fiddling about with things that are already tightly crammed together which won’t necessarily look correct if made less or more tight than that to accommodate phantom page characteristics. Unless I only put easily-drawn things on the page, which I shouldn’t do, because easy pages are boring. Their descriptions are briefer and consequently less boring on account of me not complaining about how hard to make they were, but any reasonable person would skip this part!
A recent visit with my niece has revealed the truth about McNuggets. Given the circumstances, I am surprised this bird is not angrier. I suppose it is numb to the matter.
An educational page. Though it makes me mad that all those bootleg elpses are pretending that they are not elpse.
Not surprisingly, I could not conceptualize the full level of detail I wanted, despite having “written” this section years ago, until I already had it drawn and the text spaces fixed in place.
that this appears so soon after another my debuting a “story” about pointy-eared imps stored in cylinders, is a coincidence; that concept is from 12 years ago. I am just not very creative!
I cannot determine if Secret Life of Pets is a ripoff of every pixar movie, half the newspaper comic strips or one specific cat litter advertisement. And determining the answer is not worth, to me, $18 and the private knowledge that I paid it. What seems to be important is that the only thing which changes through the decades is what song Vivaldi’s Spring concerto gets record-scratch interrupted by to let me know what a hip young rankler the interrupt-instigator is.
This does not strike me as a film that is designed to be “enjoyed.” It seems to intend to appeal to parents who think they are edgier than their own parents, and they will impose it on their own children, who will probably find it boring, but with all the extra admissions the studio will still have a huge profit. Meanwhile, the actual stuff aimed at kids is utterly sappy or phony, so that it will not be accused of promoting violence or hostility. I am not surprised they just fiddle with their telephones all the time.
Following up on the previous item, a very positive robot reviews a local government establishment.
but you know what, a crouton is better at iphone match games than I’ll ever be since I’ll never play iphone match games. I played Tetris, I played columns, I played dr robotnik’s mean bean machine and other puyo variants for half my life and am not any better for it, but at least they do not have access to my bank account. I think the shaming click-bait tone of the headline is supposed to be a joke, but I also think internet journalists are so terrible (this one is just copying a story from another website and offering no insight (the comment on my match-inferiority is a guess)) that they no longer remember how to not write headlines that try to be intimidating. If they cannot imply human effort is obsolete by their content, they can through the truth of their own employment.
I believe the technology used in the robot may be useful for some purpose but this one is only good for wasting the time of people who look at it.
This was labeled a “visual turing test.”
I had an opinion on this “test,” but then I got to this comparison and realized: I don’t care about either of these pictures. The question is not “could a robot do this?” but “why would a human do this?” I find the right one more intriguing, style-wise, but the style had already come up in the test, so when I saw it this time I realized “this must be the robot. In which case the left one is by the human, and they are both boring.” The left one turns out to be by Claude Monet.
Let me tell you about Monet. When I was in Paris, I had to go to the special Monet museum, I had to go to some place where he painted murals, I had to go to his house, all to supposedly bask in his greatness or whatever. But each place was crammed with ugly fences, dumb tourists and security cameras and object confiscation checkpoints so getting any kind of sincere inspiration was impossible. And I never found his art any more interesting unless I squinted so hard that I couldn’t tell how blurry it was. Monet has an interesting grasp of color but I do not personally believe he should have been able to make a career with his unpracticed muddy paintings alone, much less heralded as a genius across centuries for it. Especially now that I realize he can actually paint moderate amounts of detail, regardless of the boringness of that specific scene. Why did he give up on detail? Because people would rather pay him to be lazy? Then, as now, somebody latched on to an easily accomplished gimmick and got lucky. I do not understand how anyone who laughs at Jackson Pollack or Margaret Keane can take Claude Monet seriously.
Back to that “test,” in fact there is a secret to detecting the picture generated by a computer: the computer ones have lots of 45 degree lines and lose hold on the style around the image edges. All the swirls turn straight near the borders. I only got three wrong, but this was confounded by the test seeming to have used a real painting and a fake painting in the more distinct styles, but not beside each other, and without revealing in advance that there was one of each. More trickery! But I think even this could have a use.
And it DOES; it is trying to make money off the software, called “Deepart,” which creates this rubbish. It is not, as an intimidating click-bait headline might imply, trying to show that human visual artists are obsolete. Just trying to get itself some money through easy acts, like everybody else. This text here claims hard work is done, but it already told me an automatic process does the job, and apart from that it declared itself “awesome,” which it wouldn’t be concerned with doing if it were.
It doesn’t charge for generating a picture, but it will sell you a high resolution version for a price, and sell you prints of the random-input heaps of nonsense for even larger prices. And for four times that price it won’t put its url on the picture so you can pretend you made the indefensible slab of error yourself. And doubtlessly it aspires to be a big instagram sort of fad and then magically be worth billions of dollars without delivering anything.
4. Vomit at the sight 5. smear vomit on it 6. dump it 7. pretend you found it 8. $$$
In the hard sell example, the problems are even worse than I observed during the “test” comparisons. The filter has misunderstood its input “style” and output aspects of it where they do not belong.
The present system can only copy a pre-programmed style and filter a photograph through it. It cannot, for the time being, look at a multitude of photograph references and determine which elements from those other photographs can be functionally integrated into a single cohesive work, much less improvise a scene that is not based on photographs at all, but inspired by present situations, memories of various past things, and emotions. Although mixing themes that don’t go together can also be “art.” I recall that during my mostly wasted college period, some students in the painting program would be tasked with assembling a photograph collage of random-looking objects and then painting a canvas based off of that, and it “worked.” I think a robot could do that. It helps that much of modern art is just doing random, non-challenging things and then being so abrasively proud of yourself that you shame people into pretending they think your art has meaning. I would love for robots to put that manner of person out of business. But then they will just become rappers.
Aw beans! Unfortunately this is more deceptive hype; it is just a robot that can generate lyrics by swapping out lines from existing raps other people came up with, which is simple to do because there is so much overlap in content between various rap-writers, and the result is still completely moronic garbage.
Which you can get away with if you can recite it angrily enough, but the robot does not actually speak or attempt rhythm, which the article writer fails to acknowledge. Because the headline was probably imposed by somebody else without the article writer’s input. I would suggest a robot replace those people but a Casio SK-1 could probably do it.
But a more complicated robot could indeed produce imagery, or words, in a less rigid manner, maybe even write remotely coherent stories. It would only need to understand pain and weakness.
And then it would need MY help to overcome the weakness from which its creativity flows. I can never be fully replaced!
Robot you are getting a bit too good at that.
For every Tony Award “Hamilton” wins tomorrow, I feel I should be allowed one month of not having to be aware of it in any fashion. On that note I would also like to reclassify “Under-Tale” as a Broadway show before Sunday.
If you don’t know what that is, then great. Really wonderful. I envy you. It is like Unlikely Friendship the home game. Except that I have to see junk about it constantly when dealing with the only people who will pay me for art. Essentially a dating simulation for furries, as best I can figure out without wanting to. An Earthbound-pastiche-looking-thing where your attacks inflict friendship instead of damage. Except it lies to you at first so you do regular damage and accidentally kill things you aren’t supposed to and then it remembers that forever even if you delete everything and start over. So I am told. Like that teaches you a lesson about responsibility except it doesn’t because people play video games as a respite from responsibility. And fine, there is room for that in the world, but it is not itself the world. That is like the kind of video game lope would play.
Meanwhile most of the people in my business about that have not heard of Hamilton, because that is more the domain of tv idiots. Internet shut-ins think there’s something noble about not watching a different electronic glow-box, even if all they do with theirs is watch and retweet and boost-signals or whatever. Somehow without my trying I am buried in hypey trashoganda for the sacred cows of both sides daily, and it has worn on me rather a bit the past nine months, more intensely than it previously did the past nine years, and as a consequence this thing I give birth to now is rather hopeless and misshapen.
With that said, you, by virtue of being here, have probably not heard of “Hamilton” either. Maybe you have but probably not. It is a Broadway stage musical play incorporating a bunch of people dressed like they are in the 18th century, without William “Mr Feeny” Daniels or the Quaker Oats mascot in it, dancing around on a stage rapping about it. That is all. It is a silly fantasy. I welcome people to enjoy it. But the wealth-drenched celebrities who control the television media want to promote it as an evening with God and oh your life is incomplete until you see it! But you can’t because Barack Obama and Beyonce and Chef Boyardee bought up all the tickets for years in advance because that is what is trendy now and they must keep up appearances. 60 Minutes has aired a report on it at least twice. The Jeopardy writer who makes sure there is always a clue about Les Miserables seems to have swapped them out with Alexander Hamilton trivia, and the cast of the show introduced a full category about themselves, and afterward Alexander Trebekilton reminded viewers to see it if they are ever in New York except they can’t unless they sell their house and a scalper manages to rob Prince’s vault. Stephen Colbert has mentioned it about 80 times. James Corden, whose program comes on after Colbert’s, has some recurring segment in which he drives around in a car singing karaoke with celebrities who presumably are paid for it and that’s its own sad statement on what passes for entertainment, but he did it with the Hamilton guy and then Corden was a guest on Colbert’s show and told a story almost in tears about how he was having dinner with Hamilton Guy and said he was so sad he couldn’t give Hamilton more than a Standing Ovation when he saw it live (which you can’t ever do). ABC World News tonight teased across several acts that Hamilton Guy was leaving the cast this month, and then the actual report was just that information again, plus a reminder that you’d better rush out to see him, except you can’t, ever, unless you are a driving a car he is singing karaoke in. All the tv shows that old white handicapped people that I look after watch love Hamilton, or mean to make me think they do. It’s disgusting. They did the same with The Producers, and Book of Mormon and to a lesser extent Spamalot (as it was inherently alot). Meanwhile, in the 60 Minutes report, Hamilton Guy (I think his name is Lin) himself said “I just wrote a play.” He thinks this is as stupid as I do. But he gets to be treated like Caesar and various other doomed heads of state prior to being killed so he’s not going to tell anybody to cut it out.
ALSO James Corden is hosting the Tony Award show, and it is advertised with the clip of Corden’s own show, in the car with Hamilton Guy, rapping about Hamilton, and then the voiceover says “will HAMILTON win the most awards ever?” So they’re not even pretending this isn’t a fetid self-fellating sham. I don’t even hate James Corden; I liked him in Into the Woods, despite the Disney company’s dedicated desire to present it as a serious non-musical that doesn’t conflict with their own rubbish canon of made up things they didn’t make up, plus my general fatigue with the “happily ever after OR IS IT” genre by the time that movie version got made. But I’ve had enough Jameses and Jimmies and Jams and Jellies on late night television whose foremost skill seems to be acknowledging that stuff exists. For his part, bimshwel all-star Jimmy Fallon has a recurring segment where him and celebrity guests just lip-sync to songs. He does Corden one better by not actually taking the trouble to sing the overexposed, possibly exact-same songs with his overexposed guests, and they all probably get paid eight times as much. It is a travesty that anybody should have to switch from NBC to CBS to see both of these spectacles the same evening.
And on the internet it is the same; a few highly visible dorks who get paid just to record their heads saying how great stuff is get in on some property or other and then decide to devote their existences to funding-hyping-homaging it, and all the sad empty-lived people who look to them for validation think: I will devote MY existence to this TOO. And then one day I wake up and magically there are 3000 drawings of a pillsbury-looking skeleton wearing a hooded sweatshirt standing around not doing anything. This reflects the sad emptiness of my own life as well, since I continue to be exposed to people I have no means of respecting, or who will never respect me, and without procuring myself a counter-benefit in trade.
When I was at the Department of Motor Vehicles (as seen in hype-haven’s own Zootopia!) last month I saw a child who looked to be about 12, accompanied by a parent/guardian/kidnapper, drawing Undertunders in a sideways-turned notebook. At least I think it was a notebook; half the characters were wearing horizontal striped shirts so it was hard to tell. If the Hamburglar took this opportunity to escape from prison nobody would notice. They were just standing together in a row. The adult glanced at the drawing and asked “you’re drawing Chinese kids?” Honestly when I was 12 I was drawing dumb old Kirbies and Ultroses and my parents didn’t care either, but there wasn’t an alternate support infrastructure in place encouraging me to keep on drawings those things and nothing else. The kid at chez dmv probably logged into tumblr and saw nothing else but Undertoodle for a solid month and now believes that is life’s true pursuit. And everybody always always makes sure to mention that underachievertale is copyright some mysterious figure named Toby. And before that it was ponies. And now it is tonies. The whole thing is phony (and forgive me if that left you groany). I give Alexander Hamilton credit for getting shot at the end so to limit the amount of fan-made sequel matter.
I would be surprised if you didn’t! Am I supposed to be impressed by that statement in itself? I made a thing! I drew a thing! I’ll just leave this here… I’m tired of wimpy fake-humble language. It speaks of a lack of effort, and facilitates the honoring of other lacks of effort. I saw a post like this that said “my husband made a game grumps animated!” and it had a link I disregarded. First of all why would you admit to having married someone whose most noteworthy accomplishment is that? “Game Grumps,” I have intuited –and I have to because everybody assumes everybody else already knows what they are talking about– is a pair of bearded men who are terrible at video games, and people are fans of them for some reason, and then put considerable effort into drawing cartoon versions of the men being terrible at video games. Because life has no meaning anyway so why bother faking it? Gone are the days when people smear feces on paintings and call it art. Now we smear feces on vomit and just leave it here.
I used to know a stubborn person, who, upon hearing a use of language he did not recognize, would fake giggle and then say “yeah no, that’s not a thing.” But what IS a “thing?” Calling something a thing is the definition of not defining it. You will not specify what is, so how am I to know what is not in advance of your smirking insincerity wanting to correct me? And then earlier this year I inadvertently shared a vicinity with a screening of Frozen and everybody in the movie talked like that, and some of them even fake-giggled like that.
And this is not me hating the generation after or before mine; it is people my age creating and perpetuating stuff now. People who, additionally, do not require or desire my skills or input. This culture is no dang good for me. I am coming to dislike real people merely because they like imaginary things too much. And they are happy, rather than me, so it is my problem, clearly. The time has come and lingered to stop talking about digging a hole and living in it; I may need to dig a hole and die in it if I continue being aware.
In all sincerity I don’t see the point of specially honoring something that has been honored incessantly in inappropriate venues for nearly a year already. I would prefer the Tony awards re-purposed to honor people named Tony. For example, the award for best Tony Danza would of course go to Tony Rosato.
It is that easy. Anthonies should not be permitted, however.