The Donut Trump Skittles story is a ruse to distract from the real insult that Skittles at some point replaced good old lime with an awful apple flavor.
And if you want the lime flavor, you need to buy a bag that ALSO has a lame apple flavor in it. And Death too, apparently. Combined with the orange that’s two duplicate flavors and one flavor that should be in the red bag in the green bag. Inexcusable! Some brands of gummy bears did the same thing, which I complained about years ago, possibly pre-bimshwel. Back then I had real problems. I would still be furious if I had not at some point decided that I like having teeth and stopped eating gummy bears. But that does not help with Skittles since I prefer to swallow them whole rather than bite them, and so having no teeth would actually aid in the process. You might argue that I could keep one tooth and still prevent myself from chewing. However, then I would come across as quite foolish.
And I say all this as somebody who eats apples but does not eat limes. I rely on cheap fictional representations to fill the void. You might as well replace the yellow lemon flavor with a french fry flavor. Although if you are in the candy business and want to use that idea I will gladly accept royalties, and then I will be able to afford something with actual limes in it.
Apparently we have to re-live the Jonbenet Ramsey story now. Last year we did the OJ Simpson story again. I suppose next year it will be Princess Diana and Monica Lewinsky again, then Macarena, whatever mass media tragedy is next in line to have a twentieth anniversary. Believe it or don’t, every one of them WILL at some point. And nobody the whole while will question why this is necessary or acknowledge that we just did this the year before. Can we get these stupid 1990s remakes out of our systems now? Toss in Y2K, Verne Troyer, Jar Jar Binx, whatever you have to do. You already had your chance to try and convince me I cared. I don’t want to be reliving Jay Leno monologue jokes for the next twenty years while simultaneously being expected to give a pumpkin about the latest sass-loaded personality-free multimillionaire who isn’t old enough to remember any of those things.
Additionally, yes, I know this television machine’s aspect ratio is horribly off. I was not in this house while its original control device still lived and don’t know what atrocities were inadvertently committed with it. My feeling is the less of its contents I can see, the better. A pity we can’t cut off 10%-100% of all the audio also.
The next thing I post here will be intended to be less depressing than this!
Especially if it comes at the expense of a fictional large-snouted-being’s depressing incidents.
You know what’s great about insurance ads? Instead of talking about their products they recycle old gags and they never get old even if they fixate on it for 30 seconds, 70 times a day for six months.
I tried drawing this person as a 40+ish year old man with a black 1980s-looking mustache but then I felt sympathy for him, which was not the point, but I couldn’t get a clear idea what stereotypical person I was angry at, so now I am not sure what it is. But I sure dwelt on this stupid thing for long enough. I need to have this away from me more then the execution needs to work. this is the sort of thing that would probably have been much funnier if I had drawn it as obnoxiously as possible in ten minutes.
Here is my base sketch to establish the concept. If I had drawn crude impressions of the idea of far side cartoons rather than directly sourcing specific ones and put blatant stupid labels on the books like “FAR SIDE LAST BOOK” instead of trying to use real covers that plenty of people familiar with The Far Side would not necessarily recognize. The cruder way it is plainly a joke, without being stated as such, and I can not be held deeply accountable for it. The eyes look less creepy because that is the natural, unnatural size I draw them at. I would not feel as ashamed putting this out somewhere and having it be ignored. The more accurate and specific something is, the harder it flops if some aspect of it is wrong. That is why John Callahan, a quadriplegic cartoonist who couldn’t draw worth a basket of tumbleweeds but was free from obsessive compulsive fears had a career and I probably won’t ever. I probably won’t die at the age of 59 from complications of a botched bedsore surgery either, but I have 26 years to dwell on what a rude thing to say that is/also become quadriplegic.
In fact that “FAR SIDE LAST BOOK” was one of the last things I changed; since I used a real cover on the other, less focal book, having the one in the center be generic looked lazy. I worked harder to make my joke less funny because I apparently would rather not look lazy than be funny, even though trying to be funny is the whole point of doing it to begin with, and it was only just barely funny. And I KNEW that but I couldn’t stop myself.
As the tentatively final version is, somebody could point out “ah HA, geico put out an ad specifically referring to a problem invented by contemporary phones, which cannot possibly have come from The Far Side.” or “ehm excuse me that is NOT the real far side panel that was used for December on the 1996 wall calendar.” I showed this to my older brother, who I only see twice a year, and whose approval I am desperate for, because he was my first idol and my last idol that still talks to me (Zartan come back, I forgive you, I forgive everyone), but who won’t look at anything I do unless I specifically show it to him, and he asked “DO they do that?” As in: DO the geico people steal old Far Side gags? Like he thought I was making a sincere political statement with this. And I had to say some waffly nonsense like no, but sort of I suppose they could maybe, like with the parrots and Tarzan and Marco Polo in the pool, you know? I felt like a profound moron. I spent hours drawing that thing, and I might as well have just have looked at Where’s Waldo books while eating chex mix and cupcakes all day. Just give up.
Nobody cares that gary larson’s dinosaurs all look generic and unscientific because he doesn’t draw elaborate shading and scales and muscles on them like i would try to.
This is how autism affects me. I cannot take hints, and nobody takes mine, so I need to be as specific as possible. But I do not have the manual dexterity to be specific beyond a certain point so everything i do turns into uncanny valley mush. And by dwelling on this so hard I am doing the same thing I accuse geico of doing (outside of airing the things repeatedly forever)
Someday I will write a great book about how not to screw up. I will spend years on it, and all the advice in it will be the opposite of whatever you should do.
Here is another example. My plan was to post this on all the usual totally redundant websites with a heading in the vein of: “the REAL reason he quit the show.” Being as vague as possible, and likely not quite communicating my point, because I always over- or under-do all things. Goopness grapejuice I’ve even digressed and overdone my story about how I overdo things.
I didn’t finish this. I noticed that once I added the font it wasn’t funny to me anymore, even though the font is approximately what it ought to be. Because once the lettering is solid, the drawing looks unsolid, but the whole is solid enough that I start to wonder: why is a Broadway show using a movie poster? Is this a movie sequel TO a Broadway show? Why would that be the case? Who specifically does/should this second person look like? Is it funnier if he is billed first? Do I need to add a background now? What sort of background would it have, and would it match the anachronistically dressed person or the historically dressed person (with anachronistic hair that we don’t talk about)?
HOWEVER, this was ultimately a positive step, since drawing this turned the Hamilton guy into a joke to me, so now when I, inevitably, see him, I think it is funny rather than annoying. I can coexist with him.
I no longer need to seek refuge in the bizarre alternate universe this New York Post headline is from in which Stephen Colbert doesn’t mention Hamilton at every opportunity. Broadcast television is still dead to me, however.
Also, I went to look up lyrics for a different show on some stupid broadway site that I didn’t realize was covered with graphics detailing all the awards hamilton (and flippin dippin RENT) had won, but when I saw they used this exact same dorky publicity shot it just made me laugh.
But then I got annoyed again when I realized Hamilton Guy also had the same approximate run of credits in “In the Heights” which I had not prior to then considered or cared if it had won anything.
Also that site is trash since it didn’t have lyrics, but the link that I THOUGHT would lead to them just went to a page to BUY tracks on i-tunes, which presumes both that I will suddenly spend money without having planned in advance to do so and that I would willingly introduce parasitic organisms into my operating system other than the 24 gigabyte folder of every pathetic redundant cash-in gameboy advance rom ever released.
And THAT was already on the hard drive when I got it! I swear. Somebody else specially installed, on my request, a 1 terrorbyte drive in the computer I bought from him, in place of the 320gigabyte drive it otherwise would have had, and perhaps he was trying to show me that I didn’t need half as much space as I thought I did by half-filling it with nonsense that I still haven’t totally sorted through (I am kidding, it was only one tenth. Come back Pez, I forgive you).
Going back to the anachronistic facial hair, I can understand if the first guy just looks like that anyway, but why does the second one, taking over the role, ALSO need to have that “I forgot to use a napkin after I ate a chocolate doughnut” beard? Alexander Hamilton didn’t look like that! He also didn’t rap or refuse to be photographed in poses that don’t make his pants look as tight as possible either, so I should excuse other fantasy aspects, but I never considered that the appearance was deliberate, like when there is an anime about Julius Caesar or something and all the men look like Sephiroth and all the women look like Sailor Moon. Also all my Japanese cultural references stop at 1997, you know that. Sometimes I wish my American ones did, too!
page 17, part 3 of that. I like the newer page-display system better now than I did when I first made and didn’t use it, and am more comfortable linking to pages on it now, but am not yet certain what I should replace the “that” page with.
This is another “experiment” in layouts that anyone else would have assumed was already long since proven. It still feels like cheating, to me. Even though it was just as much effort to complete as usual, and there was not a way of shoving in the next four frames that was pleasing to me, pacing-wise.
Obviously! Turn that thing off!
Comic prologue sketches that I planned out in April 2015 and then was prevented from working on further due to [factors]. This is not complete, but the next “new” page in the amateurlog alludes to one aspect of it so I think it important to show. There is another portion with lope that I wrote out but did not yet draw anything for, and from the look of things I did not deduce how this transitions into the first kumquat scene, which starts with a view of space. My “plan” was to append this section, when completed, at the front of the comic book combining both of the first parts, even though I have not exactly established “demand” for more comic books except possibly with the very few people who already bought a book whose entire contents would be reprinted therein.
However It seems right now that whatever manner in which I throw to the current first page will imply that kumquat is on a different planet from what I have just shown which is not the case. Even if show a scene ON another planet as an excuse to cut back to this one, there is no excusing such a drawn out sequence to return to a place we were just at, except as a joke, but it is not the joke I set up. Although the “joke” I DID set up regularly confuses people, so I might do best to produce an alternate “first” page entirely.
Keeping it will necessitate an explanation for something that was only there because I thought it would be funny unexplained, and that can only function in such a way at the very beginning. There are so many bad web-comics that try to look like they’re loaded with depth by starting with a show of space and dopey narration about goddesses or whatnot. I do not necessarily like a dumb old jewelry store as the very first page either, but nothing at present is holding me to that. Except for me spending several days last week specifically drawing and detailing that so it would not just look like I dumped a bunch of hopeless sketches here.
I am also uncertain how jarring or obvious the shift in layout from 3 to 4 rowas will be, and so I might distract from that by having a totally inexplicable shot of space occur at the same time.
I suppose I can change it into a “museum of obscene opulence” to give a slightly higher quantity of gravitas to the opening scene. Although I might recycle the space introduction despite its alienating effect and have a pre-prologue kumquat scene, in which event my concern about the dumb jewelry store will be less troubling. But then I will need to devise a new exterior of kumquat kompound scene and I hate drawing that thing. And there are only so many ways I can since I need to conceal that all the houses are connected until the page where the lizard drives away from them. I do a very good job making more jobs for myself.
One final television activism post, and I swear I will administer my own lobotomy before I watch late night television or network news just because somebody else has them on again. If I lose my mind I want that to be because I personally removed it. I believed people who said “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” despite a world full of amputees and kwak-addicts. It isn’t true. Not cutting myself off totally from things that abuse me, thinking I can force myself to see their merit, only gets higher ratings and more validation for abusers, and always turns into me just being angry at them and needing to spend hours writing about them to claim closure for myself. I feel more closed than I did last time, but shutting and locking mechanisms often malfunction after 30 years.
The point of “late night” television, I thought, was to air material that was not considered in line with the rest of the schedule, taking more risks, reaching a more eclectic audience. As usual, I thought wrong. It only ever was that way because networks couldn’t produce enough routine garbage to fill all their time slots. Now it’s easier to make than ever and they can, and they have a surplus, and since their routine audience never goes to bed and sponsors pay more to reach them anyhow, having late night indistinguishable from early night and mid day suits them just fine.
My primary impetus here: James Corden’s late nighted television show was nominated for four Emmy awards! Yippitee-doo! I know that because he announced that on his show, that was being watched in my presence amidst my general duties. Just the conceited trendy “praise me for being praised” behavior I hate on the internet.
Old Stephen Colbert I accepted that from, because the point of his old show was that he was a conceited ass who demanded praise. And it functioned as a commentary on the phoniness of self-administered media awards that it was completely plausible that such a conceited ass had so many that he could use them as props. But as is often the case, the satire of ten years ago is the sincere reality of today. I must let it go and do what it will. One of Corden’s nominations was for a prime time-aired special edition of his program, which was fixated around the trendy, content-devoid “carpool karaoke” gimmick, which is literally just Corden and celebrities getting into a car at scripted intervals, having scripted banter and then singing along, not necessarily well, to annoying songs that are already popular, while driving nowhere with his hands off the steering wheel. Alright, so an hour’s time slot worth of that is what we give less obscure timeslots and awards to now. Hey look, recognizable people! Hey listen, recognizable songs! In a car! Congratulations, you’re entertained! I appreciate that his regular guest segments do not involve a desk and are not hierarchically separated, but I don’t give a humperdink about guest segments to begin with, and never much did. Having them seep into the designated “comedy” portions to disguise the lack of actual comedy is a sizable stomp in a wrong direction and nobody noticed because that’s the only direction they’ve gone in for years.
And it isn’t just the karaoke piece but that’s the only one I’m getting into, and then I’m getting out. I need not detail every media synergistic bit of promotion by Matt Damon and Seth Rogen masquerading as silly sketch. But Karaoke, that is fun if you yourself are doing it, or somebody that you know is doing it, and just plain annoying otherwise You might as well record people playing Cranium. In a car.
And then after the announcement, in lieu of properly edited content, Corden aired a preview of the next karaoke bit, which would be airing in full two days later. how bloody lazy is that? You boast of your greatness and how many people are saying you’re great, and then show something that isn’t even ready. Is this a network television show with a staff of hundreds or one doofus’ Patreon?
And the car star was Michelle Obama, who is presumed entertaining based on what? I have no clue. Being married to a celebrity president. The entire culture that allowed this program to exist and then threatens to give awards to it is corrupt. And the footage of the bit is setup to make it be a surprise who gets in the car, except it isn’t because Corden himself said who it would be before throwing to the footage, that he himself appears in, that it is going to be Michelle Obama. Like if I didn’t know that 30 seconds before it was relevant, that would be my breaking point. And then also bear in mind this exact same thing will be re-run in the same week of non-reruns, and later the actual reruns will likewise run it re.
The next day, ABC World trash celebrity hype News covered it, complete with a pre-coverage tease that already told all the story that they had before the main report on this thing that isn’t even news. If the story had been “celebrities getting paid to be on television without attempting to exhibit talent” they might have had something, but in fact all they had was just a clip of the clip of the show, which they had already showed.
This is rather a clip from Good Morning America and not World News Tonight. But that makes it even worse: the prime-time show that is supposed to be giving information that matters is airing leftovers from the show that is exclusively devoted to fluff. And somehow this clip of the clip is on the internet even though the actual clip being clipped from is itself on the internet. And now I have posted a cap of a clip of a clipped clip of hyped tripe’s trite retry. Thanksh, Obama!
It’s like a circle-jerk where instead of other participants you put your hand through an interdimensional portal that just happens to exit immediately beside it in the opposite direction. I will not show a picture of that. I once remarked that the Saturday Night Live 40 year anniversary show was the closest I had ever seen to somebody masturbating on television, and the lack of international consensus on whether the version of you on the other side of a portal is technically the same person as you leaves that distinction still in place for the time being.
ABC World News ALSO covered the United States Olympic swim team singing together, in a car, naturally. The anchor David Muir prefaced it by saying “you’ve seen carpool karaokeTM before, but not like THIS.” He is confident I have seen that before because he has shown it before, and he has teased it across a full broadcast as if it it is news before, and as if there is actually MORE non news than can fit into the dumb tease even though there isn’t. He could at least tell me where all these swimmers are GOING. I had hoped somebody would rob them once they got there but then they told me “dude that’s totally what happened.” Gee I feel kind of bad now.
Look at his stupid tool face! A prairie dog could do his job but the prairie dog probably has more pressing business (please don’t make a computer animated movie about prairie dog news anchors). I like imagining that isn’t a video screen, those are regular sized people and David Muir is a tiny gremlin living in their cupboard. That is more rational to me than the truth.
One of the songs being sung is “call me maybe,” a song that only exists to be in stupid forced “viral” videos of dorks living to homage others. It is a song about a crazy person who thinks every else’s name is “Maybe” and the singer has resigned herself to that. My first exposure to the song was when some Southern Connecticut Stale University students filmed themselves (don’t click on that I beg you) pretending to sing it and and that was on the front page of the school newspaper, another bastion of journalism with untarnished integrity. The report promoted the fact that this group of students who got together to record themselves not singing an annoying song was very popular. Even though its popularity ought to be evidence that I do not need to be told.
and it’s the exact same garbage: illogical montage of people being dorky on purpose to the tune of a song that is annoying on purpose. What is the appeal of doing that? What is the appeal of watching someone else do it? There’s even a scene of them in a car! I don’t get it! Why in a car? It is hardly an ideal space to practice your train conductor whistle moves. And once again, no hint where they are going.
Hey! The song isn’t good, and you’re not good for miming nonsense to it. I take a special amusement in literal interpretations of dumb song lyrics, but just being a goon randomly doesn’t prove anything. And I hate the non-committal nature of the lyrics. “Here is my number, please call me” is fine. Saying “call me, maybe?” has fake humility in it, like you cannot even stand behind your own statement. Call me maybe, I guess? whatever? So if it turns out you do not wish to be called, that’s MY fault? I hate you definitively!
Ah ha! And what is this? Threatened upcoming feature film Sing appears to be a movie about computer generated animals mouthing along to tacky songs… IN CARS! While I certainly would not, could not in a car, ultimately I wouldn’t watch this movie here OR there. We aren’t even pretending there is a story or original content. Some marketing firm just tossed money at a record company. What a rubbish heap culture. I have had my criticisms of the Disney company, and they keep coming, but they won’t put a movie in a theater without a story. Even if it is a complete rehash of a story they did before, or an obnoxious anti-rehash of a story they did before. SING is like something Disney puts on its tv channel. This is like something that would be on Newgrounds ten years ago.
What is most sad to me, I know people who will be all over this. Not sad for them, obviously; sad for me being in proximity continually to people who like things that make me sad. If it is brightly colored and moves, especially if it includes an animal they like, they won’t protest or question any part of it. Like a 2 year old child. Is it stupid? Is it lazy? Is it annoying? Is it suspiciously overexposed? Jolly good, the very things we’re looking for.
What, specifically, is this hideous thing? I don’t know, thankfully, but it seems to come from the same place as any other hideous thing. Lazy, easy writing paired with huge animation budgets. Although I am told that actual party animators were not well compensated. At the Fleischer and early Disney studios, some of the most visually impressive cartoons were produced by criminally underpaid animators. But being nice to look at doesn’t appear to have been among the desired outcomes here. Presumably any money went to paying the voice actors. Or hacky comedians pretending to be voice actors. I honestly don’t want to know. I don’t want to look it up. I don’t want to be any more aware than I am inadvertently. The less aware I am, the less I can hurt myself mentally trying to justify the world continuing to exist. I can’t remember ever being this consistently disgusted before, and there wasn’t even a smurf or chipmunk movie in 2016. Not yet, anyway. If I see one more shiny computer generated character with a sassy smirk…. I probably won’t do anything since I had to numb myself to it just to get through a supermarket without setting the place on fire if I accidentally saw a bag of M&Ms. And those don’t even sing in automobiles.
Gurf and Sing isn’t being released until the Christmas. Unless I take action, in my future there are at least four more months of ads for it, which will use an ever expanding array of annoying clips just as unfunny as these while keeping the most annoying, least funny ones in circulation. They might as well be Geico insurance ads. Or Progressive Insurance ads. Or [State]Farmers insurance ads. The only thing they are ensuring is their order on the list of priorities once I finish building my Tower of Judgement.
It is like somebody saw Secret life of pets and angry birds and said “i dare you to make a worse, cash-innier talking animal movie than this the same year.” There are so bloody many, I don’t remember that Ice Age 5: Playin’ for Keeps came out this year also, and that was, plainly, quite awful! But not in a way its predecessors had not already been awful.
Gollyo stringbeans, Louis Seekay is the top-billed voice in the pet movie. He was my favorite comedian in the 1990s and this is what happened to him. The others in that pile, Jim Gaffigan is a shill for the companies he used to do routines about, Dave Chapelle went crazy, and Patton Oswalt I like but only so long as I can remain ignorant of his present activities. Which is the same way I cling to sanity amidst things I hate, and hardly a victory. I have to keep from considering that he was the top-billed voice in a talking animal movie in 2007. The world is running in circles, but I am the one who has to vomit.
I used to want to be a stand-up comedian. Quite apart from the fact that I’ve never accomplished anything and am actually quite a bit older than my psychological condition that is mostly unaltered from 20 years ago lets me subconsciously pretend I am, I don’t see the incentive in it, if the absolute best you can hope for is to be a voice in a lame animated movie to give it some comedy cred to use in its advertising despite the comedians not actually doing any of their own schtick in the films unless it is watered down and brainless, awkward and uncomfortable. To me, I mean. Robin Williams WAS Robin Williams in his voice roles, and terribly annoying, and therefore successful, thus paving the ment for every animated movie to have comedians do the voices, unless a pop singer is considered first. I should be glad James Corden is actually an actor first, right? Except he’s an actor pretending to be a comedian pretending to be a pop singer.
More “comedians” ghosts of my past wrath, Jimmy Fallon I actually liked at one point, when he was bringing a bizarre giddy sensibility to demi-human personalities like Osama bin Laden and NBC president Jeff Zucker, before he was being pushed as somebody who is a grand polymath spectacle in himself. Oddly enough that giddiness is exactly what makes him so unwatchable and unfunny on his own program. He thinks as long as he cracks up on camera he must be doing something funny, and he cracks up more easily when he is with celebrities because he is totally in awe of them, and is physically unable to question the validity of them. And I liked Seth Rogen when he was a totally nameless and low key presence in 40 Year Old Virgin, and I have been suffering ever since. Gee I dunno a-huihhuihhuihhuih. I have done that impression of him for several people and nobody gets it but I swear that’s how he laughs and I think it is funny when I imitate that and you know what, I’ll take it.
Despite having watched him since 1999, I didn’t much notice Stephen Colbert until 2005, but once he got noticed by people with money and went to a network the lawyers cut his marbles off. Marbles being shiny glass orbs that are and fun to look at and stupid in an amusing fashion. In fact Corden’s show is probably better, for what that is worth, but building all the promotion around the car bit is only going to drag it in the worst direction. Getting banished from the NBC Tonight Show was probably the best thing to happen to Conan O’Brien, as far as personal approval by me is concerned, which I can all agree is a very important thing. Nobody younger than him is pushing or being pushed to replace him, and he isn’t expected to beat any of his competitors, only to turn a profit for TBS, so he can do what he is good at.
Which these days apparently is being terrible at video games. With celebrities. Conan has played more video games the last six months than I have the last six years. There’s no way he’s still terrible at them. There’s also no way that’s still his real face but that is another story.
No time! I am too busy writing about being angry! Also this game is terrible and I’ll just write about that if I touch it again. It’s a much better use of time to be so bad at games that you can’t tell, and tell everyone.
In conclusion, I am not going to watch television anymore. I said that before, probably, but I wasn’t considering network news in that mix, and some of this is left-over from before the last time I said that, especially the previous two paragraphs that are absolutely irrelevant otherwise. I also still received updates from some TV writers on twitter who I liked before I realized they were never going to like me. And TV seems decreasingly to like writers so I sympathize.
This is ridiculous: I like things in the world. In a choice between relating to those I cohabitate with and not wishing for the Ebola Challenge to become a viral phenomenon, the choice is clear. It is not fun to be angry at things anymore, since they now wholly overwhelm the things I am not angry at. Since my anger is not marketable, it does not get me attention and financial backing with which to produce personal happiness from the anger, as I become inescapable and insufferable enough to make other people angry. I should be upset that some persons relinquish their free will, not at what they partake of afterward. I also wasn’t considering that going to a cinema is the exact same thing as watching television now, just more expensive and less convenient. I need to set some rules.
I did not realize how fortunate I was to reside in Connecticut, where there are no major sport franchises. David Ortiz of the Boston Ruddy Stockings base-ball club was in the news every flippin dippin night when I was in Barnstead New Hampshire.
Tuesday there was controversy because people didn’t like the head-bobbling doll based on him, as best I could figure out, Wednesday he got hit in the leg. I think on Thursday he missed catching a wartortle in pokemon go (a video game in which people use their telephone’s global positioning software to find fake animals programmed to appear at certain spots inside the on-screen map corresponding to actual locations). Friday, a coworker probably looked up and spoiled the results of the gymnastics final prior the official broadcast.
In fact it was pretty much all sports and stupid tweet stories on The News while I was in this place. It would have been a great week to embezzle.
Which is not to say Connecticut reporting is particularly stellar. Yikes a month ago I made some so-themed remarks
And I was just being a contrarian jerko to try and offset the hypey demeanor of a group of people I was talking and thoroughly not relating to. Then the very same day this report appeared, detailing how some kid broke into somebody’s house trying to capture a stupid imaginary animal with no actual value and was fatally shot by the home-owner. Which is insane.
ASSUMING THAT IS THE CASE,
Considering that the monsters at worst will faint when they get electric-shocked, set on fire, and shot amidst a break-in, Pokemon is likely the first Role-Playing video game franchise to kill more people outside the games than in them. The future is HERE. And it’s pretty boring. We’ll exterminate ourselves with electronics long before they develop the inclination to do it deliberately.
but Larnuik was overcome with inadequacy when its adversary casually walked into traffic.
I have heard the excuse “Pokemon Go gets kids outside!” And so does shoving them outta windas! Don’t say that like it is positive! That people are so wholly brand-indoctrinated that there is no way to move them without an eye-searing, corporate-property-approved incentive. And this game isn’t compatible with other ones, either, so this is not going to reduce the time anyone spends not moving when operating the next one.
I understand loving video games more than physical ones, and perhaps I should be glad there are a few that nobody can watch videos of and claim to have experienced, but it doesn’t seem like there IS much of a game here outside of hoarding. And then, I suppose, social media status-bragging about what you hoarded. Hey peeps every aspect of my personality can be explained in terms of some thing I bought! Gosh if you don’t have this game or care that I have it your life sure has no meaning to me! Which nobody ever said but possibly only because their lives are so product-saturated they can not even consider the existence of lives which aren’t. It’s just as bad as being obsessed with the flippindippin Red Sox except with an added degree of “this is more technologically advanced so I’m SMARTER” sometimes thrown in.
To clarify, I find video games amusing but they are not a fundamental aspect of my existence. I could fill a day without their guidance. I never want to feel like they are playing me.
An augmented sketchbook scribbling. The augmenting is from July, and copied off another website where I had uploaded it. I was waiting to place it here until I felt it was finished to my liking, but now that is not feasible, as its full size, non-jpeg source is out of my possession. For its keeper, Hard Drive has fallen suddenly ill, and likely another week will pass before I have access to objects with which to determine feasibility of trasfering beared objects to other bearers.
Hard Drive looks out a window wistfully, wondering if the medicine will arrive in time to save it. It has no idea scientists keep it alive only for the purposes of accessing and removing the secrets implanted within its brain, with no regard for its continued function afterward. Life is cruel. Also possibly the plot to a Fred Savage movie from the 1980s.
I formerly backed up data to an alternate backing up drive prior to venturing on trips such as I am on now, due to concerns that very, very stupid things would happen, brought on by changes of circumstances. However, once I acquired a primary drive of greater storage capacity than the backup drive, I did the logical thing of ceasing to back up data at all, even as changes of circumstance became more frequent and did not necessarily require me to authorize them by leaving my house.
Seen here on a bed, a terribly impractical work location that is nonetheless a temporary safe spot from roving, toddling circumstances.
O hard drive, there is a hole in my heart where you used to be. And also in the side of my computer device where you formerly spun endlessly. You spun endlessly, of course, because Windows could not figure out how to re-initialize you without a full restart if you stopped or slowed down because it doesn’t expect people to have second hard drives instead of compact disc drives. Your ever-going status no doubt contributed to your susceptibility to liquid circumstances that left other more proximal and less crucial components mysteriously unaltered.
I should probably find some way of blocking that hole since Computor profoundly dislikes if something else tries to go in there.
page 16 of part 3 of this.
wordy! But then something will [almost] happen on the next one.
this proves I can make a page in one week. It does not prove that i should.
It may be worth shuffling the bubble-detector side non-plot. I planned it to match a specific range of events but as usual I underestimated the space I needed for what I planned, and added extra junk that I did not plan.
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?