I do not know if this counts as progress but it seems worth[less] mentioning
What is WRONG with those things? They just want to follow me around, to CHASE me, and for WHAT? Just so they can do THAT? I want to KILL those things. Unfortunately i have not drawn new destruction frames for them yet and so can only get angry at them. What is especially infuriating is the red dopes: they will be OBSESSED with locating the player dope but then turn around, go into their STUPID dance and just FORGET they had a plan. I didn’t see any red dopes for a few minutes and then found them all staring at the same empty corner. what HORRIBLE dopes.
A reminder to all you retcon-resenting star warfare enthusiasts out there
that George Lucas never got around to removing Sebastian Shaw from the 1997 comic book Star Wars: The Last Command issue 1
in which Princess Leia gives birth and looks like this.
Although on that note if I were force-sensitive I would be wary about doing anything near a window, knowing that a giant creepy judgmental ghost Yoda could be watching me at any time and that I would never be able to stop it or prove to anybody else that it happened. Hey, Yoda, Ben is a family friend but none of the people in there even KNOW you.
In fact I have been generally concerned about Yoda’s mental state recently.
All good? Great, I trust you.
Beside the point but I take issue with this comic book for exaggerating Mark Hamill’s acting skills
although I praise the depiction of his elegant fingers.
an attempt to practice at a different art software, Clip Studio, which I acquired for a stupid reason and feel obligated to make use of. I could finish this drawing. Yes I absolutely could!
I still had to open up ye olde paint shopped proe 6 and use the mouse to clear up that which is there. I thought I had the PSP cd but I apparently only have Kid Pix, my original impossible to draw in except zoomed in really close since consumer art tablets did not exist back in 1994 software. I initially used it at the understaffed daycare for dumb kids that legally counted as “school” which I attended and then made my mother buy it for me after I got a home computer but eventually I had to concede that windows 3.1’s built-in and free pbrush.exe had more practical features with which to draw poorly using a mouse.
And I must say I have never gone through the hassle I did replacing my broken art tablets the past two years to get a replacement for my stupid old mouse, even if it is apparently highly controversial to sell me one without a keyboard.
For rather a few years I was curious about the likes of adope photoglop but never had a machine strong enough to run it well until 2009 or thereabouts. By the time I was decent at it, everybody I knew was trying to convince me I should use Sai or Manga Studio or flippindippin Gimp. I would ignore them at first but eventually see other people’s great results and think I was missing my chance to to do better, and then do far far worse trying. I may have to accept that I was correct all along in rejecting higher functioning software; I can only draw dumb stuff with dumb stuff!
How about this: I will treat this video like it is not incomplete and broken and that the story of its creation is straightforward and pleasant, and not let fully compiling my complaints about it delay and further complicate the matter. I am tired of dopes trying to control my life.
I hope you will find this informative.
I contacted expert voiceover artist Gewk Gilkengramen for the narration. Gewk refused in disgust, so I had to bring in this bozo instead from off the street. With that in mind I have also provided moderately readable text that says for the most part the same things.
I will provide more painful details at an ideally hypothetical point in the future.
Flash does not seem to like my trails effect a whole lot. Which I could understand if were not so welcoming of dopes.
The plant has good taste in choosing not to taste this, although it shows little regard for the ground.
I drew this about six years ago, assuming that was the same year I scanned it, and somebody (admittedly one of two people throughout all history to have portrayed Topaglior, the imp that dopes were improperly cloned from) suggested I animate it. Two years later I forgot about it for four years. Nonetheless it exists. I misunderstood the initial drawing, which is why the animated one is smiling instead of frowning but maybe it is proud of itself for having successfully eluded a dope.
I might use this as a production company logo for my videos if I imagine I have a production company and I ever make actual videos that are longer than this one, so to justify having a special identifying brand on them of this approximate length. I will hopefully know better than to put it at the start of the video. If somebody sees a dope survive right away it will put them in a bad mood for the rest of the day, plus immediate anxiety that the dope is free to wander through the video at some point.
I can’t stair it any longer
another picture with stairs, but unlike sacre coward not based on a photograph (if you can tell).
It was initially meant to be a landscape, of a sort, but I drew it so slowly that some discourteous imps moved in and built a city, unfortunately. Yet later some of them boarded the stairs and hopefully will get what they deserve.
I am still not sure if the bird is nearer to the viewer or simply really large in comparison to the scale of its surroundings. Thankfully on my computer screen it is still too small to be a significant threat.
redrawn page 21 of that
One of my so-many problems is that I sometimes have a different idea of what I am trying to do than I did when I last looked at it, and then the NEXT time I remember something that I forgot on the previous occasion.
One of the reasons for the walls, I think now, is so that somebody visiting one house is not aware of the other houses, and how close they are. But somehow on numerous occasions I have made a neighboring house visible while a visitor is beside its front door. There is supposed to be a big hill and imperceptibly narrowing space so that visitors do not realize the road is a circle and the houses are all directly beside each other. In fact at one point I considered that maybe there is just ONE house but that was twice as unworkable as the present idea. I suppose it is like the old saying: you win some, you spend the rest of your life trying to recreate those circumstances and eventually give up in disgust at yourself and the world.
I dropped the “space” gag. In this situation this could be legitimately misconstrued as space travel occurring. Nobody has brought this up to me yet, but perhaps no one who would has yet gotten far enough with a fresh memory of this to wonder how elpse walked to the other planet that lope drove to. Also, following that with another view of the houses would be jarring regardless of how the gag was interpreted. However, I think this view is important. I am unsure why I left it out before, because I think even then it is what I meant for people to understand. At least by the first round of redraws I did. This may still fail to communicate what I meant it to, but now I will remember when I see it and stay on the same page with myself in the future. Unless I insert another one somewhere, which will increment the number.
This now offsets things by half a page, but pkzipfix suggested an additional elpse nemitz interlude to explain them better than I at present am explaining them in the future. I like them to be forgotten, or not known at all, and then to appear, and for readers to only realize later that they have been seen already, but maybe it is not as special as I think. This is hardly watchmin; my indestructible naked blue being is much more feared by the Russians.
Regardless, I have half a page to fill.
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an addendoy: the next part can be cramped into one page. It is lacking in visual detail or dialog so this should not be the problem I usually make it into. But where will the christmas duo go, then?
An older picture I recently altered to make prints of for a pumpkin-themed event
See if you can guess which table is mine
(hint: it is the one with the lamest merchandise that the least number of people are looking it)
I sold nothing, but I sold nothing at higher prices than I had ever sold nothing at before. Partially at the urging of the venue owner, and partially because for all my stabs at integrity it means nothing once I can blame something that feels like a lapse on someone else. It also means I now must keep that price consistent or else the people I showed the high price to will get angry when they see something less than that. Or they would if any had paid it.
Anyway, in addition to some free iced tea they were nice enough to let me have the featured artist space for January, (though the decision came prior to my recent performance) and I will have pictures on walls inside the restaurant, which will not have interaction with me as a condition to owning one. The scenario also is feasible that somebody may buy a picture just to get it OFF the wall so that food may be consumed more peacefully. I am intrigued to discover how I will mess this up.
This was an improvement on my last event, where there were mystery boxes dumped directly in front of my table which visitors used for sitting on while facing away from me and eventually for standing facing toward when all the boxes were taken. I would rather fail because of what I did than have nobody know I did anything. When that happens my goal becomes to make people know what I did, and I might not consider that I did something pathetic. After this week I feel like I have taken another step toward my ultimate goal of giving up. After all these months of distractions and setbacks it is nice to be making progress again.
Additionally, you may have become aware of the three for the moment unsightly link “buttons” now at the top of the main bimshwel page. If you had not then now you have, in a sense. One attempts to connect to whatever this is.
In the past i have given out “business” cards to people at events like these, but nothing ever comes of it because if anyone entered the website URL mentioned on the card, instead of art details they would see instead endless rambling about supermarkets and dumb things people do on the internet (such as write about it). Now they can find pictures, if they wait a few seconds for those awful “buttons” to load, and then they can see the pictures and think “yep, that’s the stuff I didn’t buy prints of today sold by that awkward weirdo who kept saying ‘hello’ out of forced habit but had no natural social inclinations beyond that. Gosh that was upsetting. Why did I take this card?”
I intend to make the awful buttons less awful, but I also intend to go running once in a while and eat pizza less often.
Ideally, the gallery’s rather default-looking setup is only temporary. Even so, it is rather nice for something free, I think. And unlike other free galleries, when something does not work it is not done deliberately as a ruse to try and sell me non-free version. It might be unethical for me to use something free as a means to make a profit, but I have not actually considered any way to use this for that purpose. I imagine I could send art-work through the mail. My imagination usually gets me into trouble.
Here is what my ridiculous imps would look like if I had business sense. More gimmicky, impossible to tell who drew them, and seemingly ripped off of other commercial properties. Is this an official spinoff of trolls or little ponies or care bears or an unrelated venture trying to chase the same buckwagon? People only relate to things that I do not relate to. They want to buy things that remind them of other things they have been ordered to buy. I would never buy one, and thus I am ill-equipped to make something that a buyer of these would buy.
Of course this display was gone the next time I came into the store and I have never encountered the name “zelfs” since nor had I prior to then (and I must be clear that I do not desire to), but that can also be desirable. If your soulless, derivative, cynical grab at money fails, you want everyone to have forgotten it by the time you make your next attempt at reminding people of stuff that worked. You might notice that is the opposite of my personal feeling, where I prefer to be remembered and to not remind anyone of anyone else. If I saw something that reminded me of me and it made money I would get mad, because then I would need to change me to seem like I wasn’t copying me.
It is common, on the art websites I use, for a participant to become infuriated at “art theft,” in which somebody tries to sell another person’s pictures and collect money for it. I don’t even matter enough for anyone to bother. I would probably doubt that if I heard it happened. If it was TRUE and it worked I would consider trying to take the perpetrator on as a business partner (an unbiased observer might advise that person to turn me down). The closest I came to “art theft” was when I taped a huge pencil drawing to a wall beside a door at the university while I went to retrieve some other things, and it fell off, and somebody picked it up and walked off with it because it looked like abandoned garbage rather than a legitimate finished project that the artist was trying to take home. When the person was persuaded by police intervention to give it back I almost felt bad. I felt like I had ruined several people’s days (not including mine). I wanted to thank the unidentified taker for wanting it. The party which I retrieved it from offered no comment on the quality. I might have let the person keep it but I had not scanned it yet and I needed to bring it back at the end of the semester for a grade anyhow (rubbish generally gets a better grade than nothing at all). Currently it is on a shelf smaller than itself behind me with other things stacked on it and probably no longer in displayable or theftworthy condition.
23 October 2012
Volcabbage, a controversial figure of the Sham Grimeasty in today’s Republic of Porfbe, had often said, in life “I want to dig a hole and live in it,” but until now details about being dead in one have been scant.
Initially, our excavation crew had been granted permission to investigate the tomb of Roneldo, the famous and influential warlord, but the Porfbeian government withdrew support the day before it was to happen, deciding in the end that Roneldo was too respectable to be violated in this way. They suggested Volcabbage instead. Volcabbage did not enjoy Roneldo’s level of popular support nor leave a lasting impact on anyone’s customs or ideology but nonetheless had a large and eccentric grave site. Our team of archaeologists was not terribly interested, but as they had come all that way they figured they might as well. We were unprepared for what we found. Primarily because we were prepared to find something else.
Volcabbage was a court eunuch who usurped power from the beloved monarch Gorko by changing the palace locks when Gorko went out to buy a pumpkin. Gorko, despondent with shame, went into exile and never returned, even though Volcabbage ended up getting tossed out of the palace and also exiled later that evening, having neglected to win the favor of the staff in charge of the windows. As it happens, Gorko did not maintain a stock of concubines so it is unclear why eunuchs specifically were employed on the premises.
Volcabbage was only emperor for several hours but somehow had time to order this massive tomb be built. It is speculated the tomb had been designed far in advance; possibly up to a week and a half, and Volcabbage stole power primarily to demand its construction. As the workers were busy on the construction they were not notified that Volcabbage had been ousted until they finished the job. Some of the non-structural artifacts are believed to have been contributed from Volcabbage’s personal extratombal property.
What an ugly diagram! We had best look at it more closely.
1: Entrance to tomb. (1a) top floor may have been rented out to other deceased to cover some of the costs
2: Inner passage to lower level. (2a) Escalator: Volcabbage was indecisive. If the afterlife proved unsatisfactory, the deceased may have wished to return, in which event a comfortable exit from the tomb was desirable. Similarly, if being reminded of this world once more helped to put things into their proper perspective, the spiral slide (2b) would provide a quick and simple re-entry.
3: Vehicle storage zone. classical decadent tombs often contained stables, so this was seen as an appropriate analogy. (3a) Helicopter chair: keeping in mind the idea of “if you can create a physical, visual approximation it will work in the afterlife,” this was designed to simplify transportation, as Volcabbage was not a licensed driver. (3b) Chariot: in Porfbeian society a license was not required to operate one of these. (3c) Hovercraft, because there was space for one.
4: Houses for servants. most of volcabbage’s employees were little imps. Some of them are more affluent than the other imps and it is speculated the wealthiest had their own little tombs containing even tinier servants
5: Banquet chamber. (5a) banquet table: Volcabbage rarely enjoyed company. It is uncertain if this meant to represent a pathetic hope for more human contact or to give unwanted guests a space to deal with their own business in while Volcabbage worked elsewhere, possibly at (6b). (5b) Terra cotta figure of Pog, the Inedible, on a large serving dish. Pog reminds us of an ancient Chinese story of a tree which grew old through being so useless that nobody saw any reason to chop it down. Pog, in contrast, was useless and lacking in flavor merely by chance, and no predators dared attempt to consume it. Volcabbage developed odd culinary tastes, it is said, as a means of encouraging visitors to purchase their own food, particularly guests of roommates. (5c) tiny table for tiny servants to hold banquets at.
6: Bed enclosure. Reduced scale, compared to banquet chamber. Much clutter that seems to be of little consequence. (6a) Bed said to be remote-operable, but as its optimum operation requires it lie dormant this is of dubious significance. (6b) miserable, tiny desk. Not ergonomically suited to any task we can think of.
7: “pig room.” Potentially the most peculiar section. It requires special attention and so it is illustrated and discussed in greater detail later in this document.
Though this is Volcabbage’s tomb, is not known whose body was actually buried within; considering Volcabbage’s known wish to not be buried. The most common theory is that it is actually the body of Rygar, a trusted court official. A more fringe suggestion is that the original body of volcabbage was dismembered and fed to partisans of Roneldo in anticipation of a bowtie-clad imp statue being placed inside the tomb. Overcome by food poisoning or a simple curse, their lives were thenceforth inconvenient and they were buried here afterward, for they contained the tomb’s owner, who they resented and decided to spite with their posthumous placement. In another oddity, however, no bodies were found. All that turned up were skeletons, the infamous restless undead warriors. The excavators thankfully found it unnecessary to battle the skeletons to gain their respect before entering. They are not currently a threat to visitors. However, a pine cone was discovered on the premises so it is advisable to be cautious.
7a Toilet paper: Volcabbage endured allergies regularly (possibly from overconsumption of foods like 7h pizza) and found “roll” the most effective method for the dispensation of allergy relieving paper material. This roll is very large and its user would never fear tearing off an amount inadequate to contain nasal excretion flow out of a desire to conserve the material. However, it is also far too large to be portable. We wonder why Volcabbage did not propose a representation for an allergy cure to go in the chamber.
7b Nemitz: Large ceramic figure of semi-divine entity of Mupelzorian religion. Porfbe is said to be named from one of Nemitz’s quotations. Unlikely to be an effective guard. Perhaps volcabbage just found it funny to look at. Its attire suggests butler-like duties, but again it may simply be to appear ridiculous. A similar statue called an “Elpse” (7c) was looted shortly after the excavation began. Nemitz was evidently less desirable.
7d dopes: Large-eared smiling creature with similar demeanor to nemitz. Volcabbage repeatedly claimed in life to despise these “dopes,” and yet the tomb is filled with them; one for each of the six columns and a rotating gold dope (7e) in the center. The other dopes are plastic. Hopefully the servant imps were not as foolish as dopes.
7f Bowtie imp: unlike the dopes, there is no imperial record alluding to the existence of a jade bowtie imp and it is not in the plan. It has been speculated that this was placed into the tomb by a rival, possibly Roneldo, to be a source of annoyance in the afterlife
7g Ducks. No ducks found.
7h Pizza. Volcabbage was an avowed believer in the importance of a balanced diet, low in saturated fat and cholesterol. The pizza represents people not having pizza anymore because it’s in this tomb and thus people will have no choice but to eat more healthy foods. Or perhaps Volcabbage just really liked pizza.
7i A bottle. Surely this represents a drink of some sort to go with the pizza. That seemed bland so elaborate handles were added to the sides. However, much like the large toilet paper roll, this must have made the bottle impractical for placing into a coat pocket.
7j The large pig, at last, represents a fondness for pigs. The pointless monarch once said of pigs “they look funny if they are sculpted and displayed.” Volcabbage must have thought a very large pig would be very funny. A strange person, Volcabbage.
Subsequent grimeasties looked upon Volcabbage with disgust. With a mind for cultural preservation the tomb was left where it was, but highways and utility poles were built nearby. Several chambers remain unexplored, including one that appeared to represent an elegant tiled single-occupancy bathroom, but it is doubtful that Volcabbage bathed and in any event we were getting tired and decided to go home.
i just spent 3 hours going from a French-audio news story I barely understood about Catalonia to looking up pictures of Kim Jong-il on escalators. Good night, internet. Clearly it’s too late for me to have one.
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Crucial correction: a recent study has revealed that I have indeed eaten peanut butter before. I hated it. Most commonly before I could read, inside brown, chocolate-looking deceptions.
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“Taste the flavors, as nature intended.”
I do not think, if nature had intentions, that one would be for us to chop animals into pieces and then stuff the pieces into little rectangular packages. I think nature’s promises would look more like…
Stix. There was a time when people put food on sticks. That was too complicated. What if you accidentally ate the stick? What if you accidentally jammed the stick into your ear? Now food IS sticks. Excuse me, stix. This is very important, evidently. Much easier and safer. But wait, Fribbage, you say. Wouldn’t removing the stick result in less non-food matter being wasted and discarded? Ah ha! Research has shown that stixifying edible objects allows them to be encased in non-biodegradable material where previously nobody would have bothered.
You might have thought: apples, those are easy! one of the most overproduced and underwhelming fruits on earth. There is no place that sells food where they cannot be obtained. Packaging them is totally unnecessary. WRONG. You neglected to consider the stix factor. Could I cut the apple into stix on my own? No, I could not. By expending the slightest bit of effort, could I remove any trace of a perceived need for another plastic-wasting piece of supermarketfluousness?
I suppose you think these are just regular dumb old raisins that somebody tossed in a structurally unremarkable box behind a picture of Highschool and Musical.
Maybe you think, if it’s REAL FRUIT, with a flashy little graphic saying so, why don’t I just BUY FRUIT? Do not agree, I am mocking you! Consider that “fruit” never has print testifying to it being real fruit. If it doesn’t come in a bag, how are we going to write what’s in it? More importantly, how are we going to put pictures of cartoon characters on it?
This picture is from 2008! Disney appealing this rule was to everyone’s benefit. Goofs are good for business.
True enough, there were those apples whose stickers had a picture of Garfield-the-cat’s head with a barcode frightfully superimposed over his teeth, but stickers are only there to annoy people, and to make consuming the fruit a frightful, obsessive compulsion triggering-ordeal, either when removing and disposing of the things or discovering them permanently adhered to a common household surface when a fellow resident fails at the task. They have no practical function. Fruit stix are much safer, and better to give your kids than Dunkaroos, much as having a pumpkin thrown at you is better than having a used diaper thrown at you.
I hsve often remarked at the ingenuity of Captain Crunch, who could not create real doughnuts or chocolate and so synthesized both, but Little Debbie raised the bar so high that it fell off the supports by failing to even achieve the shape. Worse, she could not spell stix properly. Since there is no Food and Drug Administration definition of what cannot be stix, I don’t know why Debbie would let such an obvious quality error past her diabetic shock fixed gaze.
Glix Stix! Just like glow stix but with less nutritive value.
Is there nothing we cannot make into stix? Is there nothing we cannot make into Pringles? Unlike a majority of similarly-shaped items, Pringles already weren’t potato chips, and now they are less than that. They weren’t about to let somebody else get the jump on their not-quite-being a regulated commodity celebration. Also, though they dare call themselves neither chip nor stick, “PIZZA” is still a-o-k.
Pringles are also mutltigrain. Not quite whole grain, and not quite food, but wow they sure feel healthy when they have the word grain printed on their tubes!
Kid Cuisine Snack Stix. These are undoubtedly created from the remains of that really loopy-looking mascot seen on the packages through much of 2011.
Though stix-like food was still a factor. Oddly enough less stick-like than a real hotdog. Better poke it with a fork just to make sure it’s dead.
My picture from the store was blurry, perhaps a self-defense mechanism by my camera, so I looked for other people’s pictures of queasine stix. This one is still of minimal quality, but that hasn’t been a factor yet today, and I was fascinated by the picture of the little penguin, also a Martin Short fan, evidenced by the Ed Grimley hair style, stepping on a fute ball while reciting a hubris-filled monologue at the poor hopeless stixling. Sportly imagery is always a good hint that the brand has been criticized for being rubbish, like when Ronald McDonald inexplicably took up basketball in the mid 1990s. Subtly imply that eaters should engage in heavy aerobics prior to eating (or in this case just step on a ball and imagine you might), because changing the product would amount to admitting that it was rubbish, and make you liable in the lawsuits filed against you for selling rubbish and pretending it was food for years and years. Also, if the product itself were changed to be less rubbishy, then people would notice it was different, and this awareness might make them realize they were eating frozen, reheated tubes of goops that they could buy fresh, in jars, at much higher quantities for less money.
There, again! I have never eaten peanut butter or jelly in my life, nor have I in anyone else’s life, but it certainly LOOKS delicious here. And by grebij, it has NO high fructose corn syrup in it! That’s a bonus! A health benefit! Instead of using less sugar, you can use the same amount and boast that you didn’t use a different kind of sugar! It wants you to be impressed not because it did something good, but merely that it resisted doing something bad, even though it actually did, just under a different name. The anti corn syrup hype subdued the too much sugar hype and then they both wondered “why are we fighting each other?” The Westboro Baptist church website should have a glossy seal on it that says “contains no racism!”
and we are completely helpless.
Meanwhile, the artist is hopeless.
Tuesday: alas, my inability to fulfill my hope is not irregular at all.
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I shall return to my regular quarters on Tuesday. Hopefully that will permit me to resume irregularity.
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May 27, no major dope news to report.
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I recently was looking through some of the sketchbook pages I had computer-scanned up to now, and came across a letter I had quite some while ago sent to somebody after also scanning. Included in the letter, and perhaps the reason i am no longer on any terms with the recipient, was a tiny drawing in the lower left corner. Since i thought i might want to investigate the image more thoroughly later without having to be reminded of the awful words, I cropped the image and saved it seperately. Without thinking (its subject matter made thought unwelcome) i named it “captaindope.png.” This morning (February 13) it suddenly struck me:
CAPTAIN DOPE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?
Who gave it that rank? Who commissioned it? Who promoted it? Why is it such a prestigious naval officer? captain dope outranks Lieutenant Dan!
I am not personally fond of Forrest Gump or his film but I sympathize with Lieutenant Dan, especially when his orders come down the line directly from captain dope. Forrest Gump has many skills by accident. The dope has NO SKILLS on PURPOSE (with NO purpose). I would NEVER obey ONE order that came from captain dope. If IT ordered me to not jump off the ship that is precisely what I would do! And no, captain dope is not smart enough to utilize reverse psychology. It isn’t smart enough for most things. Its only ability is to stand there and smile. and by the way if I stayed on board I would go over the waterfall.
Who put the dope in a sailboat and who put a hat on it?
This isn’t the first time; a recurring unstandability of mine is that some dopes will randomly be wearing hats. who is the rogue maniac traveling the lands putting hats on dopes? obviously dopes do not put hats on themselves. I get the impression they “know” how much stupider they look and become accordingly more oppressive, however.
I DEMAND that a dumpster be brought on board so that captain dope can be tossed into it. captain dope is even less qualified than captain crunch, the man who orders himself to crunchatize himself and once “accidentally” turned all his cereal into choco donuts (not to be confused with chocolate doughnuts, which choco donuts meet neither legal minimum requirement for).
Captain Crunch, who apparently recently started an internet video series where he is made of paper and re-enacts classic comedy bits from trailers to cg animation movies (screaming for no reason). Oh yes and shills for sugar-encrusted bits of gravel intended to function as meals for children. Keep on reaching, dope.
I question whether that is the real captain in the video. First of all, his mouth isn’t open nearly wide enough, and also his eyes are firmly embedded in his head. To have captain dope aspire to be an imposter of someone so amoral is just icing on the icing (cake would be too nutritious).
Our crack reading team is currently investigating other reasons to avoid cake.
Rattle me bones! (it’s a stupid video, watch out (or don’t watch at all))
That skeleton offers up to you ALL of its treasure, provided you do not rattle its bones. Is that really so much to ask? it is quite a generous offer. You can have your FILL! It makes but one request of you. And yet still we continue to rattle its bones. The world can learn a lot from that skeleton.
The poor thing’s disabled, for beet’s sake. First of all, it’s a skeleton. It was born without any skin or muscle mass. Also, it’s missing a leg and an eye. Skeletons don’t have eyes anyway, but this one’s eye space was apparently injured in combat badly enough that the skeleton covers the region out of personal shame.
an unusual property of the skeleton’s shame is the less it wants to be seen, the more apparent its presence becomes. It went to hide in the dark and its bones lit up, so that little could be seen except the bones. Is that fair?
See the way those cruel children laugh at the friendly undead seafarer! Do not blame yourself for your injury, skeleton! Accept your [lack of] body for what it is. I wonder if it only gives up its treasure because it has low self-esteem and thinks it has to do things like this to have friends.
Those kids are not your real friends, skeleton! They are only using you to further their own pirate careers (consider the striped shirt of the one on the left). I worry that someday they’ll push that skeleton too far… what’s this? A visitor?
a ratty hat, ratty eye patch, dessicated parrot corpse, and a pipe which presumably smells heavily of skeleton. So you can ultimately have your fill of absolute rubbish. About the only thing we can learn from that skeleton is what strategies to avoid when attempting to curry the favor of others.
You, sir, have a clear anti-skeleton bias and I have difficulty taking your opinion seriously. It is not for you to decide what possessions may be treasured by this excitable glowing bloodless mariner or its admirers. I suppose you also would disparage the captain’s dancing skills and the merit of the trumpet skeletons.
B) One’s dancing skills are necessarily impaired by being affixed to a ship’s wheel.
C) I would indeed dispute the merit of trumpet skeleton, on account of their lack of sufficient lung capacity (i.e. any at all) and labial equipment to operate said instruments. Not only that, it’s an easily avoidable situation under any circumstances, as a less woefully resourceful skeleton would simply take advantage of its natural accoutrements and strike its ribs in the manner of a mallet-based idiophone. Clearly this was a decidedly incompetent crew all around, even by the considerably lowered skeleton standards.
bones, you have something to add?
Is that all? I’m trying to defend your species and you waste my time with that?
the only thing dumber than a skeleton interrupting my business to get all up in my business and announce that it used the Medical Herb would be… oh, now who is it?
…would be using the Medical Herb on another skeleton! A backwards skeleton! Arrrrf not only was that stupid, it took up a lot more space and many more additional seconds! And I don’t necessarily need to see your creepy breathing gyrations, either! We established earlier that you don’t have lungs! what’s your point? I am busy here! Oh what’s this? Someone else is trying to get my attention now! Busy busy busy. I will finish reprimanding you later!
I REFUSE to view that photo!
What’s so great about the dumb old Medical Herb anyway?
ATIPHOGIHIOGHEGIHAAAAAAAAAAAANDONHISFARMHEHADSOMEDUCKSEIEIO The ultimate treachery! I thought skeletons were my friends but they have been turned against me. I assumed they were trying to excuse their recreational marijuana usage by claiming it was for “medical” purposes, but this bowtie shuckster would never advocate a personal enjoyment bringing measure of any kind for anyone but itself. It must be living in Oregon and working overtime to turn the now legalized leaf into a most unscrupulous sort of profit-making venture. Not only has it lied to these skeletons about the Herb’s ability to regenerate flesh, now I have to deal with undead potheads. What horror.
Speaking of horror
My favorite part about Rattle Me Bones is that it was rejected as a meme by the high meme council. Yes indeed people on the internet can make an obscene elitist bureaucracy out of ANYTHING. It has used the word “notable” to exclude something from a collection of haphazard trash. It thinks it’s wikipedia. And wikipedia itself thinks it’s something that it isn’t.
I have long claimed that what now conspicuously-label themselves as “memes” are manufactured and only persist because persons imagine they can leech popularity by exalting and imitating something they don’t legitimately care about, with only the insincerity and grabs for empty fame being organic or memetic, but I suspected I was just being spiteful. It is “good” to know there are actually people who consider themselves more qualified to judge memes than others, who control when one is in or out. From the looks of the header, “know your meme” actually is a registered trademark (and apparently Rattle Me Bones isn’t). Something that exists by endlessly remixing someone else’s material with someone else’s material, or even just exploiting someone else’s remix, is concerned I’m going to try and use its good name for my own profit. Or maybe it’s a joke. The good thing about the meme club is that it is consistently impossible to tell what is “supposed” to be stupid and what just is.
This makes me want to go to law school and torture myself for however many more years just so I can become a judge and throw out the case when Cheezburger, Inc tries to ruin somebody’s life in court. And then I’ll drown myself in pudding because I became a judge for a really stupid reason.
It is also “nice” to know that I could write a page about pine cones or dopes, have it be rejected (I would insist on that) from there but still evidently gain enough google traction that it shows up in image searches.
In my own case, I distinctly remember Rattle Me Bones and its trumpet skeletons from 1989 (one benefit to my age, I suppose) and don’t need an advisory board to tell me it is too stupid to talk about publicly. That’s the whole point.
Also good is that the lowest, most unspicable candidate for the meme-knowing board of directors is now a skeleton and likely ineligible for employment. Maybe 2013 can be different after ehhh
I would like to say we are both smart enough to know that isn’t how it works, but I also like using our intelligence disparity to show how awful the bow tie creature is. In fact, I don’t think things can get any dumber.
Well I would not go that far.
However, I am definitely going very far away.
Prior to then I should acknowledge my unconsulted collaborator, whose permission I did not seek to reuse his skeleton related comments or surround them with pictures of more skeletons, since I presumed he had better things to do.
It occurs to me that the children’s treasure map (which they apparently mistrustfully consult again after arriving at their apparent destination, as though to make absolutely certain that they have read things correctly, suggesting a similar dubiousness concerning its factual accuracy) curiously enough leads to a ship at sea, if admittedly not very far from the coast. The map also appears to be fairly old, which suggests that said ship has been there a while, and furthermore was considered even at the time it was drawn up to be a reasonably permanent fixture. I can only assume that the skellingtons were dumb enough to A) draw a map leading to a “treasure” aboard their ship, B) not realize that a ship is typically not a fixed geographical fixture, and C) fail to realize the importance of raising the anchor for proper navigation, thereby inadvertently assuring that their ship is a fixed geographical feature.
Furthermore, Käpt’n Klappermann would appear to be one of the infamous fraudulent “skeleton medalists” that have been decried on this site in the past. I can only assume that the medal in question is in fact
the bow tie fool’s “worst” place award, as strongly suggested by the styleless scapegrace’s apparently being in league with the boney blackguards.
Everything makes sense at last. In the respect that we all know that it makes no sense and is terribly stupid.
What the hat is this? Why did this teacher write this note beside this nemitz? Now nemitz thinks it is giving me advice! nemitz thinks it can tell me what to do! I’m tired of this kind of garbage from nemitz. I CAN’T be the only person who has to put up with this. Surely it’s not following around and annoying me exclusively, right? Does it really think i want to be like it?
Did you ever think that you would be this mitz?
NO! ME?! Such an accusation! Even though we appear to suddenly be in a courtroom it is not I who is on trial here, but I shall make this unmitztakably clear to you. I have NO and shall never have ANY aspiration or desire to be that or ANY mitz. I resent that it thinks I do or that I thought I might, and I resent that you weren’t certain, for that matter! “gosh i wonder if i could potentially be thiz mitz?” it NEVER HAPPENED. You know what else nemitz thinks? You shall!
In this never before published rubblish, I reveal that nemitz has awful taste in music.
The problem is nemitz THINKS that’s good! But reek zeek zurk is not good! Your ears are more than big enough to be able to discern that, foolish mitz! If nemitz knew how to write, and you told it to describe its favorite song, and it obeyed, it would write, in english, “reek zeek zurk.”
Also, the frown making concept album for the lost conveyed dope evidently had an epilogue that I forgot about. Nemitz is so awful that I disremembered a crucial piece of dope history. Certainly, I would LIKE to forget, but that would doom me to repeat it! Like right now, for example.
Could nemitz possibly be aware of how unwanted it is? How unloved and unneeded? A question for scholarly debate: does nemitz ENJOY being a scumbag? If it knew it was a scumbag it would have stopped by now unless it liked things that way (because it was a scumbag). I love a good mystery, but I despise a bad mitztery, and there certainly aren’t any good ones.
Increasingly I believe that nemitz enjoys being reprehensible. If there was one imp you would want to reprehense, that would be nemitz, which is very convenient for it. I know that I have reprehensed nemitz countless times, unaware that the whole while the fool was reveling in it. That does NOT, however, mean that nemitz TRICKED me. That was a coincidence. It couldn’t be smart enough to know I didn’t know that it liked being awful. I assumed it thought that it was morally right.
Obviously it never has been, but establishing that it knew it wasn’t is crucial to maximizing its prison sentence.
I cannot afford to keep supporting nemitz’ dreadful habit.
However, if we, as people who aren’t nemitz, cooperate, I believe we can clean up this town.