Ehhhhhhhhhhh better make that friday. Thursday will be big trouble, in addition to my art show. I didn’t have time to make something presentable about it and I assume nobody would see the notice here who could go, anyhow. Really, I “can’t” even go but I have to so that is the way it goes, and how I also go.

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I’ll make a deal with you: I’ll post something new and reminiscent of coherence on Thursday, December 13, and in exchange you can can read it for me afterward.

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It has been strange watching Pokemon go from a laughable fad that anyone could find themselves mysteriously gay for liking to an unreproachable culture source that I’m socially inadequate for not keeping up on the latest full price, buy twice developments of

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I think this is the longest bimshwel has gone without a regular “dated” update since I started giving significance to what level of effort justifies dating one. See, we’re still innovating and cutting edges! Also, “we” is still just me.

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My initial response to lasagna was negative because it did not look like the brown treaded lump in a steel dish from Garfield comics.

why does adding “i’m sorry” to a rejection make it seem like an accusation of insolence more so than a simple no?

Twinkies are like the Peanuts animated specials: nobody who grew up with a choice wants anyhing to do with them.

i get weirder as i get older, but weirdness itself gets normaller

The fraternity you join after getting boiling pasta flung at you: Phi Thetacini

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biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig trouble!

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You know, I knew, I can understand liking the limited assortment of complacent, still rerun ehtoons of the recent past and thinking them the epitome of memorable animation. They were at the right place at a right time, maybe they were clever, given the right array of influences, and not everybody is the frustrated, jealous visual artist that I am. The programs often had a captive audience with no standards who would become endeared to the product simply through familiarity before they developed the ability to be disgusted by something they couldn’t put in their mouths. That’s the same/only possible way The Smurfs cartoon got popular a decade prior, and how Disney can financially justify splitting the talking dog movie market that it’s already cornered.

Also, to guarantee credibility, Knockoff 12 cent cgi movie company competitor has produced a sequel to a creepy fish movie that for all I know never existed.

But that song, from the 1990s, TAhhhhhhaaaam to taaaaake uwollll dereeeeee guro da con ba day da! that was NEVER good. even when Kris Kross and The Offspring and MC Rollodonuts were good that was bad. I don’t have any memory associated with it; I have no idea when it appeared. One day it had suddenly always been there and awful, just like Pari Shilton. I’ve never heard anybody complain about the song, because it’s so pathetic and unremarkable that as soon as you’re done suffering through it you forget you heard it. Is it Hooty and the Bowties? is it Pearl Jim? Is it Creeb? Is it some other band that’s so generic that it’s just “band?” (probably not; I’m pretty sure Band made that “deet deet deet deet Olliday ohh olliday” song that was in every ad a year ago). I’ve complained about verses in american songs not mattering and only existing to fill space, but I can’t even remember this song having any. It has that crummy, moany, waking up at 4am with the radio on chorus and then a total memory void.

I was recently reassaulted with the song because the studio art classes at this university like to have terrible radio stations playing during class hours, to increase the challenge, I suppose, since this is COLLEGE and making art would otherwise be too fun to be called work. While hearing it, I started to type this, and the rest is misery.

I needed to know whose song it was, to have a proper, informed scorn about it, and I decided to start my investigation with the Hooty crewty. “Although Hootie & the Blowfish aren’t innovative, they deliver the goods,” says some quote on the wuhkapedia page by somebody who hopes we imagine he knows what he’s talking about. What is “the goods?”

It’s a box filled with undistinguishable trinkets labelled “goods.” It’s the goods for useless radio stations that aren’t allowed to play songs that anybody in the audience might not have heard 300 times already without electing to. They’re like Bacardi and Cola: They get “the job” done with the minimum amount of exertion or people pleased. A perfect match. Perhaps Too perfect…

No it is highly imperfect and thus I am discontent.

I assure you those numbers are very important to the people who maintain this neutral tone shrine.

I thought the song must be “time,” because that’s the only definite word I can make out in it, off the Hootly album “cracked rear view.” The album title does not include “…mirror.” The hootsters got bored with the name before they finished it.

And so, after the first three singles on the album suddenly that one doesn’t have its own wikipitya write-up, which is consistent with my belief that nobody is truly aware what it is because they lose all motivation to live during the length of it. They’re so concerned with dissuading themselves from suicide afterward that they forget most of what they heard. It’s so bad they couldn’t pay attention to the song after it either. Which is probably for the best since that is about drowning. Even participants who willingly purchased the album and have access to the details printed on its materials and believe it is their calling in life to make encyclopedia entries for all commercial properties (for they are notable through having been sold) won’t bother. At best they could read the title and length off of the packaging. It’s almost 5 minutes long, which is 3 minutes longer than such a pathetic song needs to do everything it is going to, which leaves lots of time for repetition and unremarkable instrument solos, so to better create the impression that Time itself has ceased to function.
Even knowing the danger, I had to be sure. For you, I endangered myself. In fact, “Time” is not the song I thought, but a song I’ve never heard before that’s even more mumbly and depressing. However, as I said I’ve never heard it before, which means nobody has by now made it their agenda to force me to, which means I have less of a quarrel with it. Alas, however, my curiosity renews! It won’t kill the cat but it may cause the cat to kill itself. What a scheme!

Yet more later, I deduced that after the word “time” came “to take,” because, it was, and I encouraged the google autocomplete system to provide “her home” after it. “Time to Take Her Home,” is the line, so stuff her in the trunk and don’t do anything suspicious. It serves as a a misattributed title for a song called Big Empty. And indeed it is! The song was caused by some Stone Temple Pilots. A band so bland I forgot IT existed. I knew they were out there, but I assumed they crashed in the Himalayas at some point and were reduced to cannibalism to prolong futile survival of the dominant members. I also didn’t know any of the songs they did. This is no mere phantom song, it is an entire phantom disco-graphy.

I only know Stone Temple Pilots really happened because my old brother told me when I was of 12ish years that I resembled the lead pilot of Stone Temple Pilots and that always stuck in my mind even though I didn’t know what they did apart from fly around in houses of worship constructed from pre-industrial materials. I still thought I liked songs other people liked so I continued to listen to radio stations and would hear promotions like “featuring GREEN DAY and RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS and PURPLE HORSESHOES and STONE TEMPLE PILOTS” but I lacked the presence of mind to inquire about their contribution, which is probably the way they like things.

Appropriately enough, Big Empty is also just under 5 minutes long. That’s just the rule. Rules are very important to classic rock radio stations.

People who bow before “rock” think they’re rebellious FREE SPIRITS but they are just as set in someone else’s nonsensical ways as whatever they claim to be better than. I heard two songs off the same bon jovi album in an hour on this station. Why is there a human being speaking between songs? An aphid could do this job. It’s not even an album I have more bad associations with than good but they probably play those songs every single day. We don’t need naow, thote controwl. Education is thought control but musical indoctrination is STICKING IT to THE MAN [who provides the indoctrination].ha ha we’ll throw in something brih-ish from the 1970s so we’ll seem deep and worldly! They play that song every day, too! People who listen because they want to probably think that song is called “Pink Floyd.” We just brought you some Bon Jovi, Stone Temple Pilots and Pink Floyd. Coming up in the next half hour is that also. Don’t try and implicate me in this! I refuse to we with you!
That same radio has been on in this same art class for 4 weeks or so and I’ve heard “Under Pressure” at least 3 times. I thought it was just somebody’s crummy mix cd, but it’s a real radio station! It’s a slightly longer crummy mix cd with advertisements in it. If this was a mix cd I probably would have heard that song with the whistling by now or “take only what you neeeeed family of treeeees pathetic 3 second shrill synthesizer loops repeated forever that somehow comes up regardless of music imposition method.” That song’s so bad that it has applause dubbed into it so I’ll think I like it.

And we don’t CARE about the old folks! All we care about is TALKING! and WHISTLING! We like noises from mouths because we’re YOUNG and WITH IT. Yet somehow there’s some 40-ish sounding man going on between the songs, as if anything new might possibly have occurred. Although it is my intent not to listen; he might well be a recording also. The entire broadcast day might be a 24 minute loop, like in those grand heft otto games, except I don’t get to express my frustration on imaginary pedestrians who exist solely for that purpose.

And don’t forget “Fireflies,” the eyerollingest song of 2010. I say that rhetorically; I would forget if I could. I can actually hear the rectangular framed glasses and really tiny above-chin beard that looks more like negligent shaving than a deliberate appearance choice. The songs are all NEW but the BAD is all old. Even when the style is different, the typicality and bland formulas and people who don’t get irritated by daily repetition are the same.

anda feeeeeeeeeel-innnn yabbadobbafibbagobbabreebaawmeeplesworth. I think that’s a different band, only because my old brother used to have the album with that song on it and i never heard the other one. This is the same brother that compared me to a stone temple pilot. I wish I had realized at the time that he was trying to train me for this. Then I might have told him how stupid this is and to cancel the whole thing. I permit that song to exist because it tries something strange, but it can be annoying when every male vocalist thinks he needs to use a strained old man voice to be taken seriously and I can’t tell them apart.

Last year I was in this same room with a different teacher, who put on a slightly different radio station. I will attempt to integrate that complaint into this one, because I believe in civil rights.

There are hundreds of thousands of recording artists now and even more throughout the field’s existence. There is no reason this radio station needs to play two John Mayer songs, much less ones I’ve heard before, but that I can’t tell apart until the chorus part, in less than that many hours.

I’m also pretty sure I heard the “i’ll catch a greNADE forya” guy more than once, “when i see your FACE there’s not a THING that i would change, cuz you’re aMAZEing” people complain about Justin Beeper with this sleazephozo on the loose? Yes I’m aware I said the exact same thing there. However, I actually haven’t written that yet! These songs are so awful they are distorting time!

By the radio station’s bragline of the best mitz of the 80s, 90s, and “today” there are thirty two years of junk to choose from. How does “life is a high weight” come up twice? Oh excuse me the second one is an irritating auto-tune remake that is fundamentally the same apart from the singer sounding like a robot that wears a cowboy hat. Don’t remake a song if it’s going to sound the same. Don’t remake a song if it’s going to sound like a totally different song. Don’t remake songs!
According to my needless research, that edition of the song was included in the “game” Lego Rock Band,

which lost a family award to itself, challenged by yet one other version of itself, plus a different game that appeared twice. I’d say it’s not gay folk and single parents that are devaluing the family experience. Here’s how that must work:
We have developed a new media property!
Is it good?
No.
Does it have any conflict or remotely challenging concepts?
No.
Does it have swear words or sex in it?
Sir I assure you it lacks everything.
Does it emulate stuff people could do without $500 worth of video game junk?
Yes.
Does it have lots and lots of sponsorships and corporate branding?
Yes.
Family!

I don’t think even Tetris would make this list, just because there’s a possibility of someone getting mad if the bricks fell too fast.

And now crummy record stores can claim to carry video game music, even if it’s only from games whose music is exclusively comprised of songs off of radio stations.

Wow i could listen to your ads and random song selection at random parts of the day or just buy a 20 year old bad Green Day seedy. Or continue to listen to whatever song I want without any ads ever, which this society pretty much requires everybody to own the technology to do so with anyhow. The promotion on this sign would have been clever in 1992 and perhaps temporarily bearable. The station is proud that it’s been playing the same songs for 20 years. I am not opposed to old songs. I am opposed to assigned, self-satisfied devotion to old songs.
Unlike the trivial new junk, this will not be tossed out after some predefined period. It will linger miserably forever until some band member is accused of having inappropriate relations with children, at which point it will be suspended until that person dies. I am also opposed to hating something just because it is old. I am opposed to doing something just because of something else, apart from mere enjoyment or kindness. I have difficulty believing anyone really enjoys green day consistently, and green day does not appreciate your friendly gesture.

There is inevitable depressing typicality overwhelming my existence in those rooms. On the rare occasion I haven’t heard a song before, I will keep hearing it so that I can no longer make such a claim.
Moderation and subtlety do not exist. Not surprisingly, this school plops out a heaply helping of bland, indistinguishable painters. Maybe all the schools do. Maybe I have wasted the last [number] of years in my life and should have gotten a job and made art in my spare time and not put so much needless anxiety into receiving certification from people who regularly certify bums with no skill or creative ambition. Maybe I just need to remember to bring in my earphones and some adequately charged counter-noise producing object next time.

You may think I exaggerate the incapacitation inflicted on me by noises of typicality that I cannot control, Though I am not physically I harmed, the primary negative affect it has on me is that I write long, meticulous documentation of my irritation instead of finishing my art projects. Being annoyed shifts my priority to how annoyed I am. And if there’s any traffic freport that’s worth a “follow me on twitter,” it wasn’t the one I heard that in.

Imagine a whole city built around radio. In addition to the harm it does me it horrifies young children with its harsh wintry climate that abruptly shifts to warm and tropical below three feet off the ground leading to incongruous clothing choices among women of eerily uniform heights, a baffling distraction that gives the ghost santas just enough time to carry out their abductions without opposition.

There should be a show called “America’s” in which sixteen blemish-free 14-24 year old humanoids smile as a camera pans past them and then people call or text in to vote based on that. Somehow this will last two hours and have 37 commercial breaks and require celebrities.

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The following is from July, I think. It was meant to follow that, which mentions junkly food, and also Mexico right at the end.

We don’t need [Mexican] junk anyhow. America is the nation’s leader in junk production! We have so much that we can plainly state that hogging edible material to ourselves is an act of benevolence and not be called on it because people have no concept of not having it. The more I eat! Watch me do more than anyone else! I’m doing MY PART by giving a nickel to the Gilligan’s Island opening credits! Sure, Wise brand snacks in the actual snack aisle cost 50 cents less than these so I could theoretically give ten nickles but those aren’t next to a flag! Arrrf Why can’t we deploy THE TROOPS to Mexico and show them who the what’s how ? I remember some years back, between 2000 and 2003, hearing or seeing more than one person whining about YUFE OF TODAY, arriving at the conclusion “they need a war.” People in this country fetishize World War 2. Forget the millions and millions of humans who got killed around the world because of it, AMERICA did the RIGHT THING and WON and got a GOOD ECONOMY for a while afterward. Or at least the white people did. And that was the golden age of everything, when cholesterol didn’t exist and CHRISTMAS wasn’t UNDER ATTACK because the people who don’t celebrate Christmas were as effectively marginalized as the people who lived near landfills. And now we have a whole bunch of wars (disregard the one on Christmas)! We must stay in all wars to get good economies and great generations later. It’s only logical, provided you don’t think about it.

But it’s not enough. Bah humperdink there just aren’t enough volunteers to keep every brown person on the planet under supervision. And imagine how few there’d be if we let the volunteers we have stop doing it from time to time. Gol dang it we need a draft. Why not? Gosh doohickey darn it heck. Oh because we don’t want them to have to fight the drug lords we sell guns to okeydoke. Some good news, though, now that Ron Paul has evidently stopped campaigning to be presidently, my brother Imphid might stop reminding me that the US government sold guns to drug lords when I ask him if he wants to order a pizza (note: that was a timeheap ago and he hasn’t). I have enough problems without being personally responsible for debunking the demolition experts in this video who say the World Trade Center towers couldn’t possibly have been brought down, much less in the particular fashion they were, by airplanes. I’m too open to the idea of sinister collusion. I think tumblr is a conspiracy; I’m too susceptible to contrariness influences. I’m too willing to believe that the people who get laughed at have a point. And considering how much of this website is just me laughing at others, perhaps you can see how my increasing awareness of what does or might go on in the world is troubling.

I’ve observed people on the internet yelling at or about other people on the internet for liking Ron Paul for years for reasons I wasn’t quite clear on because they always assumed I had been following all the angry people they were themselves copying who perhaps may have provided some backstory at some point. Promoting the guy became just as much of a hypey cult as deriding him so it was odd to live with somebody who was good enough at appearing to know stuff that I couldn’t argue with any of it. By the time I had an idea I would be alone and not looking to bring the topic up again on a future occasion. when other people had a problem with him they’d just link to some article or post some lazy meme and I would think “oh ho, you can’t even explain your own viewpoint.” And yet I often need days to do so, and what I need days for other people generally need hours for and even that is too long to have an argument about Ron Paul for.

This guy took the trouble to clean out his art gallery but kept up the promotion job.
Still it is nice to see some legitimate political motivation that isn’t just repetition of century-plus-old immovable party principles (the post-New Deal Republican-Democrat swap being largely ceremonial). Ron Paul and/or his cronies played off the disillusionment among Obama supporters like Mitt Club has no clue how or inclination to bother with, though the brother insists he voted for Ralph Nader in the previous election. The previous two, I believe, in fact, because I remember he had a “Nader/Laduke” campaign sticker attached to his doorway at the house we lived in 11 years ago, which meant he wasn’t even old enough to vote then and is probably guilty of voter fraud, and that’s the only reason I know that Winona Laduke is a real person and not a supporting character from the comic strip Bringing up Father or Ripley’s non-xenomorphic rival in one of the Alien movies.

It would be so easy for Obama’s opposition to call him out on the increased domestic surveilance, corporate interest upholding, robot-perpetrated murder and social program cutting, but they won’t because those are the exact things Romney would have done if in office. Roundabout 2003 maybe I heard some radio program my father was listening to because I come from a family that hates itself, some oaf quote someone else with “if you’re under 40 and a republican you don’t have a heart, and if you’re over that and a democrat you don’t have a brain.” I would say if you go through life endlessly applying old quotes to new situations you have a brain but it’s not a very special brain. I think this was the same radio program where the host shouted down Bush administration opposition with “You like tax cuts don’t you? You like tax cuts?”

Ippi, the brother, ‘s point isn’t that the two major parties are totally identical, but they play up their minor differences for show to conceal their worrisome similarities, one of which being perpetual warfare and the other being the elimination of any third group that tries to legitimately alter the ancient system. Of course he’s not the first to say this, and I would trust it better if I didn’t think he was getting it straight from a political themed radio or television program like everyone else, but of all the political types I talk to he’s the most likely to tell me something I haven’t heard before or that I wrote 6 years ago, nonsense or not. I am drawn to contrariness, even if it’s hopeless contrariness.

And yet as I said some of it worries me. The stuff that is defeatist and makes it seem like he wants somebody employed by the government –at any level– to pick a fight with him so that he can commit murder in self-defense. Thank boofness for Rush Limbaugh a year ago and Joe Wosniac the Plumber last month saying something I heard from Ilpo and had no response at, for subduing my fear that he might be right. Thus I propose that my brother replace Rush Limbaugh. But then these were on clips I saw on the Colbert Report show which has its own biases and convenient ability to look at past American heads of state as people who aren’t necessarily proxy murderers. If it’s part of the job to order or not intervene in the deaths of many thousands or foreign folk, it’s probably difficult, as anyone else, to not revile them endlessly unless you allow/force yourself to disregard that one area of concerns. But in that situation, how can you call out the Bush administration specifically for war crimes? I would have to read a lot more stuff to make sense of this, but I’m awful at that, and what if there is no sense? What if everybody has selective awareness or acknowledgment of facts to keep themselves sane? What if that’s the reason why people who suggest otherwise are so consistently and easily identified as cracked pots? And perhaps they are. Trying to know everything broke them. Maybe I am fortunate to have been broken by really petty things that cause me to angrily type at dumb ads, websites, and websites that serve as ads rather than yell at real people.

Alas, my focus continues to be on the petty things, though, so I don’t meet real people. I try to be compassionate or reasonable, but I don’t know enough history to realize when these are futile endeavours. I get angry, and I have my way with words, but still I have not given up on humanity as a whole. I am one, as it happens, so that would mean giving up on me. Although I also feel very inhuman and distant from all people but generally not on these matters. We can be lost and ambiguously-minded together.

These guys look really bummed out that they lost. It doesn’t have to be that way.

this looks like the Avengers and The Hulk are actually challenging the red baron, and I’m glad they’re doing so (except for Iron Man, who appears to be reaching for mozzarella sticks. The 11-13 count is uncertain because Iron Man may have taken some before they got to the box). I suspect regardless of the outcome the pizza’s quality won’t be noticeably affected for the worse.

I don’t enjoy seeing scores of government and military employees get emotionlessly killed and forgotten in movies and video games. Avengers was a nice contrast to the last Marvel-branded film I saw, X-Men: First Beet, in actually making an effort to appreciate special agents and whatnot, even if they’re mostly probably jerks. In the Xmen movie, some incredibly cheap devil guy teleports around killing, in seconds, multitudes of devoted operatives who likely trained for years to get their positions. He does it by teleporting next to people, grabbing them, teleporting again to some place high up, dropping the person, and then teleporting again before he has time to fall. He does this to about fifty people in a few seconds, with no apparent physical drain from constantly carrying fully grown men through invisible voids nor disorientation from appearing in 30 different places in under a minute. I just know if I got to play as that guy in a video game I’d be allowed to teleport maybe three times before resting or it would cause mortal personal injury for some reason and it would be more of a nuisance than a benefit because the entire planet would be designed by someone fully aware that I have this skill and who resents me for having it because that’s the kind of scumbag you have to be to work at a software company that has enough money to license movie characters. I would still have to kill thousands of citizens but I’d have to do it entirely by punching to not get penalized, apart from the boredom penalty of punching all the time. Gosh now I’m mad and none of that even happened.

But this isn’t an imaginary video game, it’s real movie, and all those people are dead now, and the dumb kids who are supposed to become x-men don’t seem bothered and are minimally sidetracked from their regularly scheduled poor me I’m white, well off, have magic powers and absolutely no social anxiety routine. There is a black guy but he gets killed also, almost immediately after 20 million dollars is spent showing how great his mutation is. Again, the white kids quickly get over it. And there’s a blue person but it’s clearly played by a white woman and in any event nobody bothers trying to kill her because her secret power is that she is naked. I would gladly have offered forth a dope for the role if the alleged writer agreed to change the script so the dope got killed instead but negotiations broke down on the highway and nobody is stopping to help, you creeps.

I mention this movie now because it was watched in my presence two months ago at the place where I spent a week getting sunburnt, on a television machine in the near distance, while I tried to draw pictures with a mouse with a sunburn. In this way I missed the beginning of the film and didn’t give it my full attention until half way through, so I acknowledge that my assessment may be only partially absolutely right.

All these mutant outcasts in this xmen movie -immediately- get along with each other, drinking beer, listening to crummy music, embracing the latest fashion and language trends. THEY complain that society doesn’t accept them. The vampire show that also got watched in my presence is the same. Drink drink sex gender relationships. All these pouty aliens get along better with the “humans” that supposedly oppress them despite not having magic powers than I do, and thus a real person inherits their fictional poutiness. However is that fair? Look I’d go out and prove it if I wasn’t busy putting things on the internet.

Unlike the xmen, the vampires seem to have powers from the start. The one character who was the focus of the episode could read minds, evidently without wishing to. How is she not under attack from stray thoughts at all times? As a child she would have to be making moral decisions constantly. How much knowledge, that she came across inadvertently or unfairly, just from wanting to know it, but not necessarily wanting to steal it, was fair to use to her advantage? Would she have to deliberately handicap herself to offset it? Would she take full advantage of it? Either situation seems absolutely unfeasible to end somebody up at a low status food-service job, yet there she is, miserable at a diner, with coworkers who resent the mind-reading. You would either get yourself a rich and comfortable, thoroughly dishonest life or seek some situation where you could be free of having to make those decisions. And is it really dishonest to use the ability that you were born with? how does this person have remotely normal interests? How does she not feel totally alone and isolated from every person? I understand she is interested in the scummy vampire because his mind cannot be read, but clearly the guy is a creep and not a satisfying end. Does the show explain all these things? (a simple “yes” or silence will suffice if it does; if I had no problem with it I would have forgotten it immediately because all that stuck in my mind was the problem.)

I am absolutely not overthinking it because scrutiny is a consequence of trying to make fantasy gritty and plausible. I am thought grit. I wish people would not watch these things in my presence because I neither have time to watch them nor to ponder them later. I don’t have time because I spend so much of it writing these things. Also, looking for pictures to insert in them and then doing that.

I don’t have any good vampire pictures.

Hey Xmen! OKAY! it’s the last 15 minutes, everybody put on the costumes that the ads imply we’re wearing the whole movie and then have one mission together where we actually do the stuff people paid to see us do. Okay now let’s REBOOT so we don’t risk having to make a sequel where there’s time for stuff to happen. Did nobody learn anything from Star Wars 6: Episode 3? every ad for pepsi, doritos, cheezits and craftmatic adjustable beds had the real Darth Vader in full darth garb whoring it out to sea and then he’s only in the actual movie long enough to inspire a lame meme and then one power-point scene transition later he’s done.
X-Men: First Blood 2: Rambo: The Treasure of Sierra Madrock also seemed to waste a lot of time showing off effects for characters that don’t matter. As I said, the guy who could transform based on his surroundings was killed almost immediately. I suppose I didn’t expect him to get killed but apart from swerving me that was pointless. The Beast is a regular human for most of the movie and gets transformed into a megabeast toward the end, and then pilots an airplane so his beastness is irrelevant. What’s really dumb is that prior to then, when he’s mostly human, he’s trying to scientifically transform himself into a total normal human, which would deprive him of his magical beast powers which are only visually evident from his funny looking feet. What a fickle scumbag. He devotes all this energy to fitting in with other fickle scumbags. I know I wouldn’t drink a potion that made me not have a problem with this. It’s annoying but it’s my only interesting attribute. Maybe that’s the moral of the story and I’m supposed to dislike it, but I more want to dislike the writer for making Beast do something dumb that makes me dislike him. If you want to do that, maybe you can cast Kelsey Grammer in the role next time. What’s that? Oh I didn’t hear anything because I am static words on a computer screen.
Surely, surely, having funny looking feet makes it difficult to be naked in pursuit of life’s sexes, but even that isn’t a factor because Dr. Beast’s mutual affectionery is the Naked blue dope Lady, who also looks weird. And then Dr. Beast tries to get them BOTH to drink the normal potion, and then there’s a really uncomfortable scene about that, which makes ME uncomfortable and additionally wastes time. I hate that guy.

There are too many of these “superhero movies” that are more about the secret identities than the heroes. They’re REGULAR FOLKS JUST LIKE YOU who just HAPPEN to have SUPER POWERS sometimes.
Xmen: Playin’ for Keeps kept the “establish decade by constantly blasting contemporary top 10 hits that none of the characters are allowed to be indifferent toward the first 15 seconds of every scene” to a minimum. Nonetheless the mutants and normal humans are indistinguishable in appearance and behavior. Although apart from the stock President Kennedy footage and James Bond submarine sets there is no distinctive sensory hint that this is the 1950s.

I don’t want to go to the pictures to see a man, I want to see a Spider Man. I do have a special fondness for heroes doing heroic acts out of costume (as opposed to someone like Superman who will let the world go to hell to keep Clark Kent employed even though he doesn’t require money to sustain himself), but these are just heroes being normal boring oafs who have problems so that they seem realistic. No! We spent the whole last decade being plausible, making snarky references to stuff from fake comic books or cartoons that real movie people don’t do, and we haven’t stopped.

The Avengers! I liked their movie despite a solid 20 minute discomfort block in the middle where the main characters stand around in a room and bicker, though they showed little regard for civilians by not bothering to evacuate New York City when they knew alien turtles were coming. Those civilians then showed little self-preservation by continuing to labor in their office buildings and create TWO WAY TRAFFIC on the bridges around Manhattan. What idiots are going INTO the city when they see stuff blowing up? (my brother the Alex Jones fan will insist it’s the crews assigned to remove the evidence of controlled demolition from the rubble of the World Trade Center)

Loki doesn’t cut it as a villain, especially when there are four to six people who can beat him up at any one time. That useless tornado guy from the Xmen movie should have been here. Somebody who watches more movies than I do insists that Loki is deliberately pathetic so that the film’s focus is on the heroes working together. Great, but now the next movie is Iron Man 3, not Avengers 2. I didn’t even get much of an impression that Iron Man needed help here.

What if I don’t get a sequel? I was let down that this movie didn’t take the chance to show off Captain America’s pantomime skills. This is very helpful to people like me, who’ve never read the comic books, as it gives us important background information. We learn not only that Captain America knows where his watch is, but also that the Avengers apparently do not own a clock. Additionally, we learn that this is worthy of devoting precious level transition space to. The movie was too busy showing me what could very well have been the exact same footage of Green Goblin apprentices getting blown up over and over the final twenty minutes.

I was also disappointed that Iron Man never called Hulk a brainless gargoyle.

Oh gasp! I ought to have known! Spiderman, Xmen, Avengers, all united beneath the bow tie banner! I never had a chance!

UNLESS Roseanne has secretly gone undercover as Storm in an effort to sabotage the patriarchal dress scheme from within! But whose side is she really on? Find out if I mention it again!

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I will clarify that I found the X-Man film entertaining on the whole, but the small things that stuck in my mind refused to leave until I deposited them here.

I fixed the thing that I broke! It had disabled a crucial animated gif.

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I hate hearing about when radio was king. Radio was “king” for a pretty short period overall in the history of media. It truly was not so very long before motion pictures usurped the imaginary throne. They had sound before the 1930s, but even prior to that they were big business, comparable to, if not more so, than radio.

I think internet pornography has been king for longer than radio was, if the only way we might communicate the concept of fiscal success is through a monarchial analogy, and if this analogy holds up at all, the king is a reprehensible creep who only retains status by having knights hack up civilians. Your dominance doesn’t mean beets when it is entirely dependent on there not being any competition. Radio was in charge right up until somebody else made an attempt at being in charge.

Radio repologists are the same sorts of people who never forget to mention that Popeye was more popular than Mickey Mouse for about a week at some point in the 1930s. By making a big deal of that point you imply that for every other point in their coexistence Mickey Mouse was the better and Mickey Mouse is about the blandest character on the blanet.

The early history of radio, in general, is depressing. This in part is due to the entire history of radio being depressing. I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t hear about it so much. I hate that stupid music that plays in the background, I hate the nearly indistinguishable announcer voices, I hate every program’s name ending with “show” (how did that start, anyway? No one never saw a thing). I hate the Lone Ranger. Maybe his show was well written (just as likely not), but my only experience with it are despicable characters on television referencing it. A lot of my least favorite fictional people have been huge Lone Ranger fans.

And he wasn’t even alone! I don’t need to have seen/heard his deeds to know that he had Tonto along to not get any credit through not being a white guy. Chipwich, since it’s on the radio Tonto could be a robot or a skeleton or a sentient boot but you made him a human so you may as well acknowledge that he exists.

I hate hearing how CBS had to “raid” Jack Benny, like there were only two people in the whole world capable of being entertaining when heard but not seen. Historians would have me believe the only things important to all 1930s Amelicans were Jack Benny, Seabiscuit and racism. But they failed! It’s more interesting for me to consider that back then people could have two first names, as opposed to now when people have names like Madison Carter and MacKensie Potatobucket and Vanburen McFrankenstein.

It’s very possible, that since I haven’t been able to move on yet, if I’m alive fifty years from now, I’ll still feel attached to the early days of video games, but I can tell you I won’t trust anyone to recap it for me, because I know they’re going to say Pac-Man, they’re going to say Mario and they’re going to say Crash bleeding Bandykook in the intro sentence and the whole operation is going to dance around hardly straying from those three points. No Moraff, no Electro Brain, no Triffix, none of the mistakes that I’m obsessed with. Just the mistakes I hate but that other people don’t regard as mistakes. They might mention Final Fantasy, but only the first one, because they know what little tolerance I have for that.

If I live to be seventy years old and still have people willing to speak to me, I’m not going to be recalling Tetris the way old people now recall Marylin Monrovia or James Bean. It was fun for a few hours and exploited into total reprehensility.

I found that in a file titled “objects.txt” dated 5-27-2008 that I probably meant to be a collection of unfinished website items, but then I continued starting new unfinished things and forgot the old ones. I don’t entirely recall what prompted me to complain about that and then not do anything about it for four or more years, but the thing I typed beneath here reminded me of it so now it is above that and your problem.

This is from somebody’s tumblor web-page. A string of folks I know absolutely nothing about are eagerly anticipating an upcoming film by quoting dialog from an ad for it beneath an endlessly looping captioned clip from the ad which probably links to the full ad.

I guess Zangief is considered “bad” either because he is Russian (Soviet, in fact) or because the people who made this movie just threw some money around at some licenses and aren’t inherently more qualified than anyone else who’s ever put a video game character in a feature film.
Except there was also Kingdom Hearts, another baffling disney/video game cross-over, which was an actual video game, that must have at least been mildly playable, even if I wouldn’t, because one of its primary plot components is fondly reminiscing about when Mickey Mouse was king. I have difficulty reserving more faith than I have in a Disney supervised video game for a Disney developed video game movie. I do know that I’m not looking forward to footage of the Dynamite Dux doing the Charleston in front of a white background under a huge font saying “Wreck it Ralph #1 movie in the country!” when that inevitably occurs.

The page I saw this on also had someone complaining about fedoras for being marketed at the wrong people. Certainly I have stated fedora issues, but Tumblr users are the last people who should be complaining about marketing. They are marketing incarnate. They promote, buy and forget products in time to promote buy and forget the next ones, totally for free, like no one but the most cynical radio-era spokesoafs could ever have expected people to be dumb enough to. Suddenly in less than a day I had seen stuff about this movie from five different people, all making the exact same points (“this movie will be good because it acknowledges that video games exist and I cannot contain my enthusiasm over it”), without my having given any effort to look them up. The catch to this marketing method is that the tumblites have to actually like or expect to like the product, but on an internet that I can win the entirety of by being aware of something that anyone else who grants themselves authority to award the whole internet is nostalgic for, it really isn’t that hard.
ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED? good work, I made “comics” about the NES game Wizards and Warriors before I could read, and I reckon pasting whimsical dialog next to video games sprites has been an internet institution for plenty over a decade. Why is this film special? Because it’s not on the internet. Nobody here is pausing to ponder: “this is significant because it has nothing to do with us.” It may even be tolerable as a result of that, if I succeed in forgetting the hype. I am weary of hype.

Golly I’d pay up to three easy installments of $48.95 for that! Of course I could PINCH even more PENNIES by not buying anything at all. Is this product any good? I don’t know because I don’t trust essentially anonymous mobs of strangers, compensated or otherwise.

And this idiot IS compensated. Ripping off the same tirelessly impact-font-labeled pictures as everyone else but putting ads (that SCROLL WITH THE PAGE) on them
and then its own copyright symbol on the ads and saying “derp” the whole while, thoughtlessly mocking my people. Though I mock dopes, dopes are not derps. Dopes are content and there is no struggle to life as a dope and they don’t have feelings to hurt. That is why I deliberately work to hurt them. This is like comparing apples and pineapples. Pineapples are scum.

Disclaimer: I accept no responsibility for anything but will accept your money
Old pictures, old gimmicks, old buck-passing, old buck-keeping. I have been concerned that I’m so out of touch with society that I can’t tolerate new things, but maybe the problem is that the new stuff is fundamentally the same as before.

I recall all manner of gorbo going gorby over Matrix 2, Snakes on a Plant, New Transfarmers, the 2008 Baracko Bama and/or Pon Raul presydential campaigns, the Smashing Brawl Bros and all these things. They live for hype, promotion, consumption and imitation. They were raised on it and they don’t know how to not do it. I’ve failed to be in their clubs for so long because I must not enjoy being in their clubs. I want to interact with talented people, not mere complacently resigned fans of talented people, and certainly not fans of lazy nonsense. But lazy nonsense is more likely to get reblogged and less likely to get discouraged if it doesn’t get reblogged.

I consider intelligence a talent but that statement seems even more pretentious with that word in it.

Considering that it took me about 40 minutes to find the zangief page again after I made the decision to use the little bit of text I typed about it (which has mutated considerably) I really don’t know what to think about the approaching movie he is sort of in. And that’s fine! I’m allowed to not explode with excitement every time somebody wants to sell me something. I should be glad that video games are getting some legitimacy and that the old ones I actually care about aren’t being totally ignored, despite the efforts of the xbox all-army-guy/zombie coalition. Even if it’s in an ugly, 3d, “fictional characters are REAL, BORING people just like you” overhyped contemporary above-everything “yeah, no” obnoxiocomedy which, much like toy story, will undermine its apparent fondness for “classic” toys by saturating the planet with sweatshop labor merchandise based on the exclusive intellectual property of the filmmakers. I like that Zangief is in it and Crash Bandicorf isn’t, and that Bowser’s eyes weren’t made really small and moved close together (meanwhile keeping the head the same size) so to better resemble the facial features of an immersion-breaking-by-design celebrity voice actor who uses a Scottish accent for some reason. The scene in the preview is probably the extent of their parts, but I didn’t watch the preview anyway. I don’t have time to watch it; I’m too busy complaining about it.

Nobody has tried to sell me on the original characters yet, as it happens. Only the incidental background characters. Can a movie work entirely through interest in the secondary characters? Disney definitely sold Aladdin as if it was a movie about the Genie. And this time there’s no gentleman’s agreement to violate with Dr. Robotnik over his presence in the promotional material that will lead to him being voiced by Helletic Hojo in the sequel. That is the most pointless sentence I’ve ever written. At this point I would like to gripe that it’s the newer Robotnik who wears suits made of rubber and zippers and goggles on his head despite already having dark protective lenses over his eyes at all times, but actually he has never dressed in an especially dignified manner and he’s the only character from his franchise that I can still bear to look at.

Bah I’m too angry. I’m even too angry at how angry I am. I like a lot of things! I like… (don’t say dopes, don’t say dopes, don’t say dopes) yes I sure do.

NO! I’ve been misrepresented! Google isolated a single remark from the page featuring the most conspicuous commercial property on the page whose name I didn’t make the effort to misspell, and declared that the title! It’s almost as if google just saw a picture of a preview of this website and made a judgment based on that, except it didn’t because if I was going to pay to advertise this site I’d look at the money and buy a pizza instead. Giggle changed the title because the actual page says “luckycharms.com” on it which I guess is a problem because apparently real people go to the websites of breakfast cereals, and do it by typing urls into google instead of the place they are actually supposed to type urls, and these people are worth accommodating for some reason. I didn’t even write that sentence anyhow! Kid Rock did! And the next line is “I like Andersen windows!” Why isn’t that the title? Andersen Windows are much better actors. Nobody understands me/us!

I’m going home to people who appreciate me!

*I* don't even want to read all this, dopes, kings, tumblstiltskin | How to lose a guy in (6) days | !

new imps are floating in strange places. they want me to fix it, I suppose!

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Incididdly, the reason the monopoly piece took so long was because I was preparing this, and then removed it, and then this took longer.
Yes so Computer Banking Monopoly was discovered at toys r us.

No, not THAT place.

This one. The facade is undoubtedly fancy but indistinguishable from every other building in the future abandoned lot. It’s the only place where I’ve ever seen a Friendly’s and a Ruby Tuesday directly adjacent to one another, along with the world’s greatest Wendy’s.

Yes likely you’ve encountered enough lamentations decrying aesthetics from another era being replaced with uninspired modern sterility. However I think it must be said the old one has the look of a toy store with a specific identity all its own, whereas the newer one you might as well just call Chain Licensed Product Store. If you swapped the sign with that of Target or Sports Authority, other stores in the vicinity, it would not be apparent to anyone until they walked inside. And why would they? I can’t even say for certain that such a switch hasn’t been made between when I entered and took the picture because I’m not likely to go in again. The only indication that it is a real toys R us is the creepy void behind it. Even the old Toys R Us that I liked had a sleazy wasteland surrounding it, and according to that website I linked at, mine was the only store in connecticut that closed down before it could be reblanded. The author claims it was because the location was lousy and the building was “sinking” but I like to think it’s because the store had integrity. It was integritty. It would plunge to the depths of hell and have a crummy auto supply joint move in before it would submit to graphic design. I don’t necessarily mean good graphic design, but just any at all. Say what you like about East Haven (or just repeat what I’ve written about it through the years without reminding me that I wrote it), but of the two units in its structure it wasn’t Toys R Us who dared remind me of Battletoads.

I will be the first to say we should toss old, irrelevant characters aside and stop holding up progress by deifying irrelevant fictional commercial personifications, but if we replace them with something worse and call it the same then we’re missing the point. I loved that store, as trashy as it was. Does anybody love this place?

Yet I was glad it wasn’t the Toys R Us in that still at the end of Double Dare where the giraffe head had a huge, towering neck. I’d have never gone near that. It was so bad apparently that I entirely forgot about the frightful gremlins standing in front of it.
Much mystique I suppose lies in the fact that these places are mostly gone. Maybe I wouldn’t think this design so special had it not been nine years since I’d even passed one on a highway. In fact they are kind of tacky. If you pull out you see that no store ever bothered to keep up this facade the full length of the building and it comes across as lazy, too.

Toys R Us was the first store I knew of to issue its own currency. I can only assume employees were paid in this to discourage them from trying to escape the premises. However, with the volatility of the world-wide economiseep, those who have survived to become refugees have discovered a startling fact:

Geoffrey Dollars are now worth more than real dollars. 3.433 times more. Though America may have abandoned the gold standard, the people’s democratic republic of Toys R U.S. never lost faith in the dork standard, even if they tried to disguise it.

With that in mind I now intend to begin distributing to loyal bimshwel customers Mitz Bucks™,

the only true and consistent abstract monetary representation of this domain name. Bimshwel has been privately owned since 2002 and sells no advertising except when robots get in and they keep all their money, which is in useless US units anyhow. Unlike some international currencies, valued by nothing more than their relationships with each other, Mitz Bucks™ are backed by the unprecedented scumbaggitude and scoundrelity of nemitz. The only thing that would bring down their value would be if nemitz started being a decent person unworthy of scorn or contempt. Greater American Dollars rise or fall by how many people want them. Nobody wants nemitz around, so Mitz Bucks’™ value can only increase. We shall have the dollar on the run.

Aw nutf I didn’t plan on this! How can I arrest this fiend?

Great thinking! I will simply buy all the dollars before they escape.

Or send my army of flatulent marionettes in pursuit. I’ve been trying to get them out of the house, quite honestly.

*I* don't even want to read all this, NEMITZ | How to lose a guy in (5) days | !

I keep seeing this and forgetting that I sent it to myself.

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Charlie should not make pizza. By someone’s definition (Charlie’s) this is considered pizza. Who else has bad definitions of pizza?

I don’t know what one tastes like hot, but a cold domino’s pizza tastes like a bag of pizza combos pre-trans fat makeover. Which explains at last why the combos people think that tastes like pizza. According to legend, this pizza has bacon on it. i think an Egg McMuffin would have more bacon on it. I hesitate to add the clincher “and an egg mcmuffin has SAUSAGE on it” for I suspect even that may be hard to prove.
The process of explaining how I came into possession of this object incriminates some individuals who probably deserve better than to be incriminated over pizza.
Sometimes when you end up a with watery base, Eggo wafflish crust, almost pink tomato sauce, and a cheese layer that seems to be a single unit, you can make the excuse no this isn’t misguided chefmanship, it’s Greek style pizza. I no wonder why they’re always smashing plates. It would be fine if they used good ingredients, but they never will. I formed that hypothesis a few years before the Greek economy became an international liability and I won’t go so far as to blame a complex issue far older than our limited American awareness of it that is bringing suffering to millions of people whose governments increasingly punish their own citizens to maintain their own pointless wealth on bad pizza. Rather, it’s probably a combination of that and all the broken plates. But Domino’s doesn’t even have cultural differences to blame its inadequacy on; rather, it is perfectly matched with the culture that it offers service to, which is why it stays in business.

The only remotely ethnic restaurant I ever saw dominoes in was a pan-Asian establishment and it knew better than to serve pizza. The chefs there stick to what they know and preserve their dignity.

Yerp, pizza combos, pizza rolls, pizza pockets, pizza goldfish, pizza PRINGLES. None of these taste at all like pizza, but I bought them all, many times, even once I knew it. The goldfish just tasted like regular goldfish with random flavored salt on them, but the pringles were notably bad and chemical aftertaste-y. Yet I bought them again.
We just like things to have “pizza” in their names and we don’t hold them to any standard unless they ARE pizzas, and sometimes not even then. Even after swearing off Red Baron, Totino and Elio pizzas* I continued eating the lousy pringles. Pizza flavored non-pizzas seem to get a free pass. (*I never ate a Tony’s

To your amazement, no doubt. If I wasn’t enticed by smooth plastic fisher price playhouse pizza surely the creepy Drew Friedman airbrush kid would seal the meal)
It’s become a routine. We think we like pizza because we remember liking pizza, but clearly we’re bored with it. What if we could have pizza as potato chips?

Or what if we could eat it out of a starchy carbohydrate sock instead of slices? Slices are so HARD.

Shooting the ad with a green screen box to accommodate different regional sub brands without refilming the same great great scenes with the same great, great song where there’s no conspicuous lyrical void allowing for the insertion of “Ellio’s” as the situation demands has the additional benefit of making the product seem real and valid compared to the very fake looking packaging.


This at least solves my problem of not being able to take a bath because it interfered with my ability to eat pizza-derived products at all times.

More recently, I attempted a semi-local non-chain that was pledged to be “cheaper” than what I prefer. I had to conclude that it tasted like that kind of pizza I get when somebody who doesn’t really know me says “hey come over we’re getting pizza.” I’d wonder where the hamburglar did you FIND this? I’ve lived here for ten years and never had a pizza this bad. Why do you think this is GOOD? Pizza parties are the worst. I get two slices at most and then have to wait around not eating pizza or talking to people because I resent them for not buying enough bad pizza. How’s that fun? I can’t stand it. The pizza here was actually tolerable but it reminded me of that.

This does remind me, or it did before so many digressions and inserts that I no longer recall what actually reminded me: did you hear that the mcribs are “back?” I did, despite neither caring nor being aware that it had gone anywhere except directly into a toilet. Mcrib is the dumbest scam. “It” never goes away, but it’s always coming back, and then I’m always hearing that it’s coming back. It’s never national news that Chicken McNuggets are still here, even if we as living beings really ought to be outraged every day that they are. The official story is that mcribs were devised during a mcnugget shortage, in fat, but considering how simple a matter it is to fake a shortage of natural earth resources to push up their prices, imagine how much more easy it must be to fake a scarcity of something that’s not supposed to exist at all and very easily might not.

Also it’s the McRib, rather than the McRibs, or some McRib sandwiches. There’s just one riboid that returns year after year, because like other menu items it never decomposes and nobody wants to eat it. There’s nothing special in McRibs that should cause them to be scarce. We already went over this. Pay attention. It’s the same stuff that’s in the hamburgers pressed in a different mold and painted a different color and sprayed with a different flavor. They could make it out of broccoli and have it taste exactly the same and be eep times healthier but they don’t because people have some kind of weird pride about eating meat, even when it’s several stages removed and reformulated several times. One of the claims made to discredit Mr. Obama when he sought presidential space was that he ate arugula. Hey, he eats VEGETABLES. He CAN’T be American. Do you remember the big “story” that taco bell’s meat didn’t meat ah the legal meat requirement? Nobody cared to observe that the substitution was actually vegetable matter which we’d be better off replacing the entire contents with. They only wanted to say “ha ha, unnatural! Oh ho ho, fast food! Tee hee, verbs! OMG coffee”

Yet Kentucky Why Chicken famously mistreats and misprepares real animals and the end product is not any more holy. The only identifiable difference is that a piece of chicken costs twice as much as a taco, and they don’t even take the bones out for you.
I saw that written bit partway through my own writing. Although it does suggest the McRibs only exist at all because at one point in time McNuggets indeed were not present, which made me alter my own base remark, the coward, that has never been the case since. The article also does not suggest that the sole reason for the product’s absences is McDonalds’ self-assurance that it can get massive free publicity merely making the slightest deviation from routine, and that “McRib” is perfect for that by having a stupidly memorable name, so it can become something like a running gag. ANY product could be randomly removed, or not removed at all but suddenly said to have been unremoved, but it’s funnier and more consistent/efficient if the same one gets the moot every time. So the breach of routine itself has become routine!
Ha ha! I’ve figured it out! But what will happen to me now?

Ah, truly? I must say I hadn’t expected this!

Oh fah uhl I figured you wouldn’t tell me!

Rod Blagojevich knows where’s the party at. No doubt he will be funding it with his Jeopardy winnings. I expect only highest quality and plentiful part-like fare.


Awwwwwwwwwwwnawwwwwwwwwwwwww… I don’t even remember why he’s going to jail next month so it’s probably this.

I wrote this in 2010. I never posted it. Or so I say. Look, see, at the url. “http://bimshwel.com/?p=341.” Last week’s was 439. That PROVES that my website entries have numbers assigned to them. I reckon I could repost three solid years of old bimshwellians that I never found occasion to link back to at any point and say I hadn’t already posted them, when I had, but nobody would notice. Likewise if you were to hack into this (I doubt it’s hard) and repost them yourself I wouldn’t notice either.

What does RED mean to ME? I don’t know what it means. I don’t think about stuff that way. I can’t get punched in the nose at Shop Rite and then come home and fling paint angrily at a canvas for three hours and have something I think is great. Red, to me, is just a color which some things are. So I thought of some red things and made a picture with those in it. And then I added other irrelevant, distracting stuff that would confuse people. The person who sent the email said I didn’t have to deal with the THEME if I didn’t want to. Which meant I really had to, now, just to prove that I could. And like usual I figured it would take a lot less time than it did.

Not bad, but not great. I wished I had started sooner, but really the sooner I start working the sooner I start procrastinating. I thought I could pull off something this complicated because before this I made a pixelly version that I thought looked pretty nice.

Well I thought it did. Making computer stuff is considerably easier for me than real stuff. Hence why I did it there, first, but I figured I could copy it well enough. I also probably grossly overestimated how much time New Haven art enthusiasts spend watching the intro sequences to old Sega Genesis games.

Hmmmyes… fascinating.

Well maybe the picture isn’t ideal but it’s good enough. Anyway, this isn’t at the small space gallery like last time.
You remember the small space gallery, don’t you? Well I do. It’s a place that is not really an art gallery at all, it’s somebody’s office with a few pictures stuck to the [evidently incomplete] walls. THIS time, though, my object was going up in the Sumner McKnight Crosby Jr. Gallery. Things are getting a might bit fancy now.

Yaztaplazca! It’s the old switcheroo! I ought to have been fooled by nothing less than the new switcheroo!

Darth Snack Mix returns again. This may even be the same bowlful from last time and nobody dared to move it.

This is actually my third run-in with the snack mix. I didn’t tell you about the second because it must not have struck me as interesting at the time. It seems really exciting now, though.

I think I was the youngest person in there and the only one whose goals were in any way absurd or narrative-y. While it’s nice to not feel old, for once, if the only fellow ar teests who “get” what I do are kids I’d rather be around them than pretentious snobs who honestly think smearing red paint on a rectangle and taping newspaper headlines to it is worth charging $500 for.

I did like this red clock, even if there’s no apparent reason why it should be red as opposed to purple, periwinkle or a normal clock color. I think the label says Michael Johnson. I suppose I ought to have read it at some point. The title of the piece appears to be “Mullet Trap.” Alright so the guy’s name might not be Michael Johnson.

I thought since I had actually painted something and was offering the actual thing I’d made rather than a copy, I should have a proper frame for it, rather than look for a cheap one at walmart that the thing would fit within. The fancy frame would have cost $112 somehow. So I decided not to have a frame. This is but a matte and only cost $24. Much like with my digital prints the bottom edge was cut off, but unlike my prints that is because this is actually for a reason and the person who did it was conscious of where my signature was. I wouldn’t want to bring shame upon the famous E. Cunni by associating it with this anyhow.

That fool has some talent!

Beans that settles it. I’m going somehwere else to get my prints made.

And then I’m coming back again.

I saw this reflected on the inside doors of the elevation chamber when I went to drop this off (the elevator was shiny) and observed that the large figure’s head is incredibly lopsided. Not that it’s turned to one side; it actually appears to be melting. the ears and the eyes are both at different heights. The pine cone is tilted, to the left, the opposite direction that the other stuff seems to be going in. I was trying to compensate for the right shift without realizing it. I don’t have an easel, nor space for one. All “real” things that I do are seen almost exclusively flat on my desk. Distorted. Always. And this thing is going to hanging up until september. Urgik.

I called it “vegnarok” because the only other thing I could think of at the time was “vegarmageddon.” I didn’t realize that invoking ragnarok implied one side was evil. The point here is that both sides are victims. I later decided “Saladnarok” was a much better title and requested that the name be changed, but I apparently only succeeded in altering one letter.

september 2024 edit: it is past about time that I purged my old name from these web pages. that is fine if you already know it, I just personally do not want to see it.

None of these names, in fact, are accurate, because the stuff shown is actually produce; much of what is involved is fruit, but I was not thinking with efficiency, and in any event I couldn’t find some way to work in any part of the word in which it was evident that was the word I had used. “Warduce?” “Broduce vs broduce?” (this was the year before I declared war on “bro”) Nothing good. “Folic Heroics?” “The seeds of war?” Oh that one’s almost clever. “Salad Oppressing?” “You war what you eat” alright that one’s just stupid. I eventually thought of “Ragnarcrop,” but I didn’t like the way it sounded. Which doesn’t make any sense because “saladnarok” puts emphasis on the “lad” which one doesn’t do when pronouncing “salad” unless reciting a poem about fads and doodads (putting emphasis on the lad sounds illegaler than it is).

I also thought of “farmageddon” but a quick google search revealed two different things calling themselves that, one of them a non-existent yet perfectly hypey computer cartoon series based on a comic strip that ran somewhere, allegedly, for two years in the early 90s with a wikipedia page written by the authors four years ago, and I suddenly thought of myself as considerably less clever. The animals talk, though.

I was required to prepare a typed “artist’s statement” in order for the thing to be displayed. I didn’t know how to do that so I supplied this instead.

Hello! I am called B—— Cunningham. I make pictures sometimes. Many of them can be found on bimshwel.com, which is a website.

I am fond of stupid things happening to stupid looking creatures. I don’t, in general, “understand” art beyond what I immediately see in it, so I avoid attempts at symbolism and “meaning” in my own output as best I know how. You are welcome to your own interpretation, naturally! My primary goal is the amusement of myself and potentially others.

I primarily deal with pixels and other digital nonsense, but I envy those who use paint and ink. I’m only allowed to display one piece here so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to misrepresent myself with a work in a medium I have no experience or comfort with.

In this scene the adherents of beets and the partisans of tomatoes have reached a moment of great potential conflict due to the vile trickery and sculduggery of Pinot Conio, the fiend whose upper portions float menacingly above, violating the laws of physics and perspective, as often occurs in uninspired film posters. My hope is that taking inspiration from the uninspired will overload the uninspiration meter and cause it to register a more favorable reading.

I think you’ll agree that this is incredibly stupid. However, despite it being the first serious thing I’ve ever attempted with this mysterious gouache substance, I am fond of the painting and have thus given it a ridiculous price to discourage any sensible person from purchasing it (I’m kidding, of course; no sensible person would take this for free!).

That’s done! My artist statement! It wasn’t so bad. I was worried I’d get myself in trouble. People are so easily offended in a dumpstervania like New Haven.

I didn’t include the last line.

I was trying to be as sincere as possible without seeming boring. The problem there is that in actuality I am both boring and insincere.
I discovered later that the artist’s statements were not displayed anywhere near the art or indeed anywhere near anything so it would not necessarily be clear what I was talking about when the time came for somebody to see this. So I was boring, insincere and irrelevant. I astound myself.

This is the best painting I have ever done, which would be a significant statement if I had ever made a good painting.

I should stick with acrylic paint, though, I think; that is the paint for indecisive mistake-makers who draw in pencil first. This is gouache. And after four days of looking at it I have a gou-ache.

^{And I know it’s not pronounced like that but it is spelled like that.}

I can’t believe I didn’t put a pumpkin in here. It would have been much more clear than the coconut-with-orange-slices-attached-to-it mace in the upper right quadrant.

Here’s another idea I almost had. I say almost because I never figured out what it potentially might mean. Unless… gah what a fool I’ve been! It all makes sense: the store deliberately priced the frames out of my range to cover-up that nemitz stole them all. Ironic, since it’s impossible to frame nemitz for a crime because anything bad you accuse it of it probably did. The fiend’s already started a war, for beet’s sakes. Alas beet didn’t realize that the war in fact did nothing to improve its own sake. For no obvious reason we have chosen to imprison nemitz inside both the windows 95 pipes and 3d maze screensavers at the same time. It’s good that nemitz is in jail but it never lasts and in any event the crime was still done.

on the positive side I now have one more thing I can do badly.

I have a tumbler.eh page. I wish I didn’t. Not because of this, just because of it. In fact that’s irrelevant beyond explaining where I had taken this picture from. A person asked me this question. I do not dislike this person for this question. However, my dislike of the topic and of some others I associate it with throbs like a toothache to the extent that it is not clear what bridge I am burning today. Know that I burn no bridges, and if I break one it’s only by myself driving a truck over it in disregard of the posted weight limit, and it is reasonable to guess that sooner or later I am going to learn to drive.

But a question, of a television program based on a commercial franchise I don’t care about, from a decade I’ve been sick of for a decade, that airs on a tv channel I’ve never heard of and has repulsive character designs. So the only way I’d become aware of it is if it is it if of it is it being the focus of an obnoxious meme torrent that I would ignore out of spite absolutely whatever it was. Oh and did I! (yes)

Friendship is Magic, they call it. They call it a lot. Too much for me. I resisted making a complaint about this because I felt like I shouldn’t even know about it and half the people that will talk to me on the internet are fond of it. However, by now half of them don’t talk to me either (not after this, certainly), so I like to hope the remaining quarter only choose to remain because they must have accepted me and must have expected me to do this.

One who did not was a very good friend in fact, but who had happened to be developing a curious hobby of marginalizing my personal value a few months before the thing premiered. By the time it had, friendship was not so much magical as an occasional convenience easily explainable through basic logic and social science. Fox news enthusiasts would not even doubt that sort. So having accumulated increasing numbers of such enchanted friend types by blatanter and blatanter professions of admiration for stuff that it was fashionable to like, he no longer needed the ones that were harder to please than that. Also apparently I’m not over it yet. I’ll probably mention it again. I’ve probably already done it. I’ve probably already written the next one 79 times since January.

But the cartoon! It really needed to get made, since there weren’t enough hilarious pictures on the internet like this already.

I can’t vouch for the writing on the cartoon itself, but the people who produce tribute material are about on-level with every other popular rubbishoid which is to say they veer toward the stupid. I remember feeling left out during my family’s Soporanofest a few years back, myself somehow being the only person who’d not watched nearly enough of the program to be obsessed with it, and I got along with the perpetrators afterward. But for this there is no afterward, because people on the internet are not the same as regular human beings who can get over things, or have other layers to their lives apart from these things. I did not get endless waves of daft gangster-sonas in my art queue for nine solid months.

The worst of it is over it by now, so it’s receded to the level of a mere annoying fad, but I scrawled all these complaints about it and don’t know what else to do about them. Forget them and move on? Do something productive? Me? Never!

Tumblir is very good for not allowing me to get over things. Do you have nothing to say? Good news, you can just copy what somebody else says, and sooner or later somebody I know will also have nothing to say and I’ll see something like this (you’ll have to click on it to see it, as I’ll not display it; otherwise I welcome you to assume that what I am saying may be construed as valid under proper circumstances). Even if you disagree with a tumble you need to copy it onto your page to say something to it, and the original copier in the chain still gets points for it, and if nobody bothers to read your print they’ll assume you do agree. Tumblr? More like Stupidlr ha ha.

See see look, this character is WEIRD and THIS character is a NERD and THIS character is DUMB! This should be titled “if you put a stock character in a stock situation.”

I didn’t even GIVE the thing a cube. Somebody who wasn’t necessarily me left it in a place where the beast would find it. I think I have some impractically designed characters, but these are quadrupeds with fine motor skills. They can manipulate objects with their “hands” but are cursed to not ever be able to do so while in motion or stably balanced. Ha ha get it stablAAAAAARGH I’VE BEEN STAPLED
Using a mundane setup to exhibit personality variations, certainly I do it; most aspiring creative people have and do, but I do this with my own characters and I wouldn’t go out of my way to make it look like I used a template when in fact I implemented my own layout.

This artist actually directly sources facial expressions and poses from stills of the cartoon. I know this, because most of these artists do and I’ve seen these ones before. And not in a funny way, either, like in those Tintin pastiches, where the characters are ludicrously out of character, throwing bricks through windows during labor riots or having debaucherous holidays at the same location as everyone else they know also is, all while cursing indiscriminately in near-english. They’re just playing with a dumb old rainbow cube.

And then he used the exact same gag twice (while making sure another character[‘s head fragment] appeared to explain the gag). Frippits, twelve ding dang years ago I drew an equally dopey looking “tribal” character (an elpsoid) painting a rubik cube, and nobody cared, because I never showed anybody because I realized it was a really bland idea. And I still can’t show anybody because that page seems to have mercifully escaped its holding place,

but here’s a subsequent page with a frogfrimmed can of spam on it. That’s the kind of cleverness it takes for this.

They’re rewarding and praising this guy for matching old jokes with old artwork. Even the Pokemon fan-drawingers relegate the frame copiers to middle-tier, but since most of these people are frame-copiers there’s nowhere else for them to go. They literally have no talent. I don’t have to watch the program to know this derivation is garbage. However, I suspect watching the program has an impeding effect on people’s ability to determine that this is garbage.

This is intellectually worse, though; at least a rubik cube has a classical charm to it that this association cannot harm and that likewise does not make the pony-fans who like the combination any dumber for its part. When you are paying lazy homage to lazy bands and lazy cartoons at the same time then you’ve squared the twit appeal and fractioned the creative effort involved. I initially linked to a different band homage by a different person whom I ultimately decided wasn’t fair to single out… the original drawing was of REM as the ponies, which was, at least, the only drawing of REM ponies. I shouldn’t have to settle for least (and I must confess I have slightly more scorn for REM than the Beatles). However, I found countless Beatles-as-ponies examples, in under three minutes, often with the exact same color scheme, as if there are canonical Beatles ponies whose composition cannot be challenged. There isn’t; these people just aren’t even so clever that they can pull off a palette swap without being ordered to. I have no idea who those culprits were so I’ll feel no guilt for scorning them in a place they’ll never find out about.

The absolute worst thing I remember seeing, somebody had drawn the let’s say main character’s heads floating around the logo for the tv show Friends, against a white background, and called it a day. I was so ashamed for both of us that I won’t direct anyone to it unless I am challenged to.

I remember for a while years ago everybody who was cool had to draw their already mundane character as an utterly unremarkable sillouhette dancing against a solid colored background to pay homage and worship before a bloody COMMERCIAL ADVERTISEMENT for eyepods, but most of them didn’t do it more than once. I guess they must have, but I successfully avoided knowing it.

It’s always lucky for people when something that’s really easy to copy gets popular. Pog forbid we have a well-drawn animated series on television.

Hacks love their little ponoids. They memorize the shape of this one little horse and can draw different hats on it and bazoinga! ORIGINAL CHARACTER! It’s like Bob and George fan-authors, except Dr. Light and Rush ALSO look like Megaman.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE GAY SEAMONSTER???
Nobody draws the seamonster so it doesn’t enter into my reckoning. It may even be from a different show that I failed to elude awareness of.

It has JOKES that KIDS DON’T GET!!!
That’s the same lure you put out to get me to watch Shreck/every remotely animated thing that got made since Shrek made money, and that didn’t work, and it’s a secondary characteristic at best! When I was twelve I used to listen to a late night radio program where people called in to ask for advice about sexual relations and I only did so because of the funny sound effects, and I was an idiot.

It has REFERENCES and MUSICAL NUMBERS!
Congratulations, you invented The Drew Carey show? I’m not swayed by this sort of spiel and I never will be! If the best you can muster is that it’s a less vulgar South Park that’s easier for you to wank out to you won’t succeed and I shouldn’t feel bad about complaining at it!

BUT didn’t YOU make THIS?
Yes! I wish I hadn’t! I felt dirty when I did and the person I made it for just assumed I made it because I wanted to because he couldn’t grasp the idea of anybody else not being as into the show as he was. In fact I only made it so he would talk to me, and he did, that time! And realizing that I did indeed have to do that to get him to talk to me made me mad. And then I didn’t do it again and he never flippin’ talked to me again. I suspected I might have transferred my annoyance at him to annoyance at the cartoon, but half a year later I want to punch them both in the nose so they may well both deserve it. Similarly I theorize that neither cares.

Why don’t you just WATCH IT?
Because I don’t have to! Unless this is a condition to get my financial aid or my passport renewed then I don’t have time to do stuff I don’t want to do that I don’t need to do. Yet I tried! I got through one and realized I would never want to like it, given everything about it and the way in which it had been brought to my attention, and its refusal to leave. This is like reading one of those “remember when?” pages out of somebody else’s high school year book. It’s like that picture of the corny floating head with a pipe in his mouth or referencing a “flying spaghetti monster.” It’s never going to be funny to me because I’m not in your club and it isn’t.

I know one person who insists the program is bringing femininist ideas to people who would otherwise not be concerned with them. And maybe this message is more important than how badly drawn or annoying it is, or whom I resent and why. I hope that is the case. My problem might that I know very few people and I have trouble letting go of the ones that really aren’t going to get any better. Lazy fan immersion is itself the total absense of ideas, and something these people have been doing their whole lives. I give the management credit for devising a template that is even easier for the least creative to insert their egos into than anything we’ve had previously.

For all their blank slate adaptibility, Sega style hedgehogs are kind of hard to draw, what with their messed up proportion and conjoined twin cell eyeballs, as this box art specialist proves.

Hi I have a psychological disorder in which I think I’m persecuted despite being in an insufferable majority that gets whole websites devoted to it and takes over others. See also: war on christmas. or “if we allow gay people to have rights then everyone will be gay and humanity will stop reproducing.” In fact it’s such a powerful majority that I was afraid to complain about it. That really isn’t fair at all, considering the lack of kindness I’ve displayed toward the favorite television programs, musical acts and films of people I’m far closer to than anybody who has a web page with red text on it.

Consider even just the website name “ponychan.” That means this one topic was so overwhelmingly popular on the oldest and most notoriously hornetly imageboard that it attained sentience and split off into a new entity. Saw never did that. There is no “saw chan.” At least it’s not a chan that I saw. When you get really popular and obvious, people are more inclined to look for and point out your faults. That’s just what happens. Our most profitable news media is kept in business by this alone. And for the record I don’t see much about friendship in those which are the subjects of my gripes. It’s simply “this character exists. Look at it a lot.” I don’t have a problem with people watching a cartoon. Not this one more than any other I’ve whined about, certainly. If it came down to little ponies, the shirt tales, the snorks and muppet babies, I would recuse myself from picking the winner. I have a problem with people never shutting up about it under any circumstances, unwilling to accept that some others just don’t want any part of it, and cannot be made to, and further that the harder you push them the harder they’ll resist. I don’t fleeplezeep how “well written” and referency a program is if its fundamental sensory components are idiotic and embarrassing, and those get the most mileage.

Eh but if I liked something a lot, and knew there were forces massing to decry that I did, certainly I would defend my position. Wouldn’t I? I have no idea. I’ve never liked anything that was so beloved that I could say so and have there be 309 people standing by to statistically agree with me.
I prefer melodic music without vocals. I avoid referring to myself with pronouns. I walk in the rain and look drunk. I know what it’s like to be chronically not-gotten on a daily basis. The pony craze is very much gotten, and I wish I might be so into something that was, someday. That would be so great, to have massive corporations just pumping out trash I liked by the week, for free, and be friend-branded-acquaintances with ten thousand other idiots who liked it, who also drew the same stuff that due to my willing suspension of disbelief I could pretend wasn’t totally inane degenerate drivel, and is worthy of the source product I liked to begin with, in the event that was good.

Me mad? Yes! I’m furious! The absolute worst people on the whole internet love the dumb rainbow horses more than anything. It would be unfair inductive reasoning to claim that makes it inherently bad; that only keeps it inherently impossible for me to want to like at this point.
My mother watched American Idol but she didn’t draw, quote or otherwise invoke Brian Dunkleman every day for a year. And if she had and I’d told her to stop she wouldn’t have accused me of being some kind of pop culture gestapo trying to censor her rights and freedom. And if she had she’d be a krippendorfing maniac.

So that was that. But eventually…

AND What the hack is this thing? It looks like somebody bought a lion king coloring book and just used whatever crayons they felt like on Scar. In every picture it has the exact same expression, and I’ve seen about fifty of them despite never once looking for one and the thing not bloody existing three weeks prior [to when I wrote this sentence]. The regular characters feature the full range of emotions from happy to douchey but this one is only douchey. I understand that villainous sorts are supposed to be less than friendly but one assumes it may get upset when inevitably foiled, and in any event there should be something to distinguish its bad smirkiness from the good smirkiness of the protagonists.
This is, I think, seven different people doing lame fan-traces based on the exact same shot, or simply reposting the frame verbatim as an original work and subsequently submitting this to the “group” gallery I found them in, since the cartoon had not yet aired, but some official images had been posted online from it, I guess? That’s so bad that I don’t even care that only the last one is unmistakably douchey at this size.

This first person had the clever insight to mirror the frame before tracing it. Ah and “good” here’s some passable douchiness. Even when these people try to think outside their own tumblr mandates all they can come up with is “He’s the puppet master!” or “he has them all on a chessboard!”

“Q trolls the ponies.” I saw a bunch of such remarks. The uninspiration hath folded in on itself! The thing people use as a pathetic launching point, to borrow characters from to use in their own stories, is itself borrowing characters? Is that what I’m to conject from this? Nerds love this stuff. Ah didn’t I once say that I loved that? I like when one writer finds a means of reusing their own characters in another situation where intellectual property restrictions seek to prohibit them from doing so. I don’t like when a point of nerd idolatry safely assumes, and REQUIRES that its audience be familiar with another bastion of nerddom. I’m not terribly proud I made that pointless page of video game references. But at least they were varied and over quickly. it wasn’t a drawn out reverent tribute to one series. Good gorf star trek. This IS just like Bob and George.

I hate alllllllllll these people! I can’t recall when last I loathed so many non-murderers because I self-administered shock therapy to forget that.

That’s everything they do. They consume, and imitate what they consume. Of COURSE they’ll love stuff that itself consumes and imitates. Does it matter if the program can stand on its own merit if you can sync it up to audio from The Big Ol’ Bowski? and then link it at me out of context after I already plainly didn’t care about the last six contextless clips you sent amidst not even asking me how I’m doing? One of the reasons I dislike Kevin Smith films is that there’s sure to be 10 to 20 minutes just of people talking about other movies. And this conversation will be the same every time you watch.

Also: do we truly require in this comic store a mal-configured widecreen tv to put Kevin Smith on? Isn’t he fat enough already? And why did the angel order alcohol if he can’t actually drink it and presumably never could? How would he have developed a taste for it? How does he even enjoy that?

If you had asked me but a week before this what my least favorite thing about the collective Star Trekkion was, I might have responded that it’s sterile, bland and slow-paced and there was no excuse for it to be that way after Star Wars* got made, much less in four consecutive series other than people themselves being boring. Further down the list might have been that invincible douchabix guy who I want to strangle that’s in some episodes, regardless of the series, for no reason, that isn’t a Romulan. I can’t stand Romulans. They’re such jerks. And at some point I gripe that the most exotic aliens at best have weird foreheads and funny skin colors. Right but the one guy I hate, apparently that’s the favorite character of everybody else. Especially furries. Why? Because they have no sense of subtlety and the smuggest, smirkiest character will always be their favorite. I was surprised when I found out anybody liked Spyro. I am no longer surprised.

*Star Wars the film, not Star Wars the Kevin Smith reference interlude. I grant all reference interludes the same right to be scorned.

One complaint that supposed little pony detractors commonly give is that this is a cartoon aimed at children, specifically heteronormative female children. That hurts their case, and if that’s the only case they can produce then they’re just as weak. I would question if in fact it is! I would then also question whether children comprise a majority of the total viewing audience. No reasonable child –apart from one making just such an advertising niche jump– could possibly care about a minor star trek character or that this show was mentioned on Jimmy Kimmy’s own abomination. I have never encountered this cartoon in the context of anyone under the age of 17 or off the internet*. Through being successfully targeted and then fudnuddling merchandise dollars and ad revenue into the enterprise, adults on the internet are the main audience. Additionally, by the show creators acknowledging the internet adult popularity and working to incorporate or be fully compatible with things they like, those become the target demographic, I say.
*excluding an embarrassing convention I attended, because those are essentially gatherings of real people acting out the internet.
**and then on September 29, some inconsequential loiter gang within my audible proximity at my university’s loiter area mentioned the cartoon, asking “is it at Hot Topic yet?” and they moved on within two minutes without anybody saying “bro.” Bro anything is bad news.

And I go to a school in which people talk about zombie apocalypses, hold “bake[d] sales” on April 20, wear shirts branded “winning” and all sorts of horrid rubbish that nobody should think is clever.

I have an unnatural, almost instinctive resistence to stuff that got too popular for no clear reason. This has surely saved me tens of thousands of dollars through the years on trendy clothes, music albums, cigarettes, beer, tomagotchis, furbies, skip-its and xboxes. I see no reason to give up on it for something that looks like this and that makes people act like this.

I’ve never encountered anybody who accepts video game music as a legitimate art form off the internet either, but I scarcely encounter them ON it unless I seek them out, and in any event it’s much more reasonable that something just one person likes should be a fringe matter; there are thousands of these pony dipes who exist exclusively in imaginary places. Sometimes I wish I was imaginary, but I am increasingly afraid I am.

================================

It did once come to my attention that somebody thought I made that, as well. I can thankfully remark that I did not, as much good as that would do for my public standing in the eyes of people I don’t want to be seen by. It’s not the worst in that gallery, but the worst in that gallery is enough to make me not want any. It might be well done but it’s nothing I want to look at.

================================

The next entry, on, let’s say, December 4, 2012, promises to bring a shocking exposing which you already knew.

8amish Sunday, I woke up to find this tree had overslept. The tree must work at the electric company because nobody had turned on the power until after it left.

Before then, some fire trucks and passengers gathered about for a while. After they determined no fire was on the premises they left in hot pursuit (ha ha) of more exciting tasks.

I can’t imagine they could see it very well with all these leaves in the way, though.

A few pedestrians strolled by to take pictures of the tree.

The hurricane was originally scheduled to stick around until late in the evening but when the lack of electricity terminated the free wi-fi it decided to get going and beat the traffic.

My own interest similarly spent on the matter, I wandered about in the rain, in search of things I understand.

Hey DUCK: this is NOT a lake or a pond. It is just WATER FROM THE SKY. There are no FISH in there because fish do not FALL FROM THE SKY. This wasn’t even THERE yesterday, dumb bird! They love finding the stupidest looking places possible to make their legs disappear.

Also on State Street: Aw frank, look at this disaster! What a mess! And i’ve just been reminded I actually took this picture the day before the hurricane showed up and that this scene has been blocking the road since last October.

As I returned to the climb scene at almost noon, an irritating alarm sounded from the liquor store that for once I’m going to assume I don’t need to show you. People love alarms. That’s why they always let the ones on their cars run for ten minutes before doing anything of pertinence to it. This situation was no different. Though the amount of people had increased in size, nobody bothered to take advantage of the already activated and blatantly ignored alarm noise and steal anything. They were too busy photographing the tree. I would approve their lawfulness and not deride their lack of initiative, but they also blatantly ignored the CAUTION tape around the tree. You fools! Don’t you know they’re more likely to bite when they’re injured!

A ha, progress, and order. Now a licensed work crew with reflective vests can take pictures of the tree.

They hung up some homemade stop signs about the intersection and departed.

By all meeps, get out of your car in the midst of the road to take several pictures of the tree. I’d put extra importance on this if your car has screen windows.

This yellow truck showed up in the vicinity of 3pm to make it clear that coalition forces now occupied both sides of the street. Also, some cones. The tree slowly starts to realize it is outnumbered. More people took pictures. If that thing doesn’t clean up its act in a hurry it’s going to be REALLY embarrassed on face book later.

A hobokin on the steps of the building nearest the tree observed me looking at the tree roots and interrogated “You know why this happened?” Before I could prepare my defense he answered his question and blamed it on the sidewalk which had been installed during the previous year. Supposedly the roots were cut from below this area for no reason I could guess and that made the tree feel more inclined to recline. Two hours later this fellow was still there, no doubt keeping the populace informed. I suppose he thought if electricity was never restored we’d revert to a tribal system and he had a shot at becoming village elder, getting control of the magic sword in the process, and then he could use that to rob the liquor store for real this time.

An industrial loader! Now we mean business. Enough to not call that a “bulldozer,” even. When the tree sees that unoccupied construction vehicle staring down its caution tape it will surely be intimidated into compliance. Despite the loader looking like a toy in this picture I assure you it only did the job of one. The loader’s driver continually asked a similarly dressed fellow “is it ON, stupid?” Oh it’s on NOW, with you calling me names and such.

The shovel machine was friends with a dumptruck. The dumptruck left when it realized somebody had already dumped on this street. The yellow truck was actually blinking its lights now.

5:30pim: The loader was gone when I came out to make another departure, and suddenly from the right it came speeding toward the object on the left. At last! Then it slowed down and stopped again. I think the tree is getting the message. The yellow truck had turned off its lights in the meantime.

Somebody bought the flashlight, I surmise. A pity for the scarcity; the best part of blackouts is frosted mini-wits standing in the street, illuminating the ground in front of them and then courteously blinding me when I approach to walk past them because if I just felt like staring at unchanging darkness without going anywhere I’d have stayed inside.

An hour or some such thing later, at about 7 in the PM, the yellow truck is gone but the tree remains. But what’s this? A van has just arrived branded UI, United Illuminating, a company that actually deals with electricity. THIS blinking light will get the tree’s attention finally.

By 9pm the tree was still there, but we successfully set a record for most amount of diesel powered vehicles to idle outside a single apartment complex and then leave without doing anything.
I crossed the danger line to get this incredible footage. That was foolish, and I should not have put my life in peril. The wind blew a small speck of dirt into my left eye. But for 9:30pm, another truck shew up. THIS time it was one of those hauling/utility/whatnot trucks that I’m used to seeing around fallen objects during power outages. It left immediately. I’m glad some people still keep traditional values alive.

Eventually I went to my sleep lump, realizing my chances of the truck fairy compensating me for even one of them dwindled by the minute while I remained awake.

Ah I see. Yes of course, you’re supposed to bring in the noisy devastation machines after midnight so as to not disturb anybody. NOW things will be done.

For example, you can take pictures of the tree in a whole new context. I wish I’d written my website url on it.

A police car is over here. The tree is obviously resisting arrest. Collapsed in the street like that, it’s probably been abusing drugs. We expect to find high quantities of bud in its system, and not a little bit of weed.


On second thought we’ll let it go with a warning. But just this once! Goodnight folks. (imagine this is a picture of the loader rolling down the perpendicular street and not Snarf from Thundercats ambushing you in the dark)

Hey

======================================

I sort of posted that, but then hid it because I wasn’t sure if it was interesting or not. Now I have had time to think about it and have decided that it isn’t, and I appreciate the closure. Yes so they took some annoying thing that had been floating around the internet for a few years and decided “let’s make this everyone’s problem suddenly and think ourselves clever.”

Deviantart was really late (by a standard that is for the moment not pertinent to my own variety of lates) to declare “ha ha, NINJAS and LLAMAS!” also, but at least either were funny in one context at one point in time.

Ninja tools, incidootily, are forbidden. The is the first time I haven’t been glad Mitt Romney is not a ninja.

I have never seen the “troll face” symbol –so named because it doesn’t let gruff goat faces cross bridge faces– invoked by anyone I didn’t want to force-feed aluminium foil and detergent cakes. If the troll would only let the goats across they would eat the stuff with less trouble.

In case you’re not acquainted with that particular floating head, then great. Floating heads, in general, are bad news.

Unfortunately, I will explain anyhow. The idea is that since some people get way too visibly upset over stuff that doesn’t matter, nobody else can ever be upset about anything deliberately done to annoy them ever again. If you do then legend has it anyone who is aware of your upset assumes this painful-looking expression and has triumphed in some way.
I’m not mad because you “got” me. I’m mad because you THINK you did and are proud of yourself for it! I’m pretty sure we went over this last time.

Kristof, my personal favorite inside joke is Wanderers from Ys and I would never call that “beloved.” In fact I’m ashamed and we’re estranged. I don’t expect anyone else to find that as funny as I do. They couldn’t possibly and I wouldn’t trust anyone who claimed to.
Inside jokes only work when you’re INSIDE. When you jump on a joke, or really anything that you are outside of and try to make it institutionalized and ubiquitous it’s just obnoxious and annoying.

Like when advertisers started using the phrase “bling” in earnest and later when they used text message jargon ironically. They can’t win. It isn’t their place to do these things. Even if Deviant Art is in some way inside this, and if it IS then I have less respect for it than I did, I most certainly am not in it and I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see the troll face, I don’t want to see Chuck Norris, I don’t want to see badly drawn Luigi, I don’t want to see Doug bangin on a trashcan or whatever unless I take the initiative to see these things. Don’t act like you’re Marco Polo stepping off the canoe from China with a barrel full of spaghettios, because you’re not bringing me anything special, and in any event I can’t eat mudkips. And unlike a usual annoying internet fad I can hate this on its own non-merit because the idea behind it is inherently antagonistic. A business that operates for profit with thousands of customers is getting behind the bullies among its by and large childishly oversensitve userbase for a reason I can’t fathom. It’s so unfathomable that a page was set up in an attempt to justify and explain the “joke,” which a functional joke oughtn’t need. And now I’m explaining it again. That’s surely even worse.

Hey! Hey! Look! I’m cool! Somebody who can afford to have stuff custom made yanked something another person made off me once! Deviant Art pulling out the troll face and talking about interwebs is like an eight-year-old buying Big League Chew and saying “damn!” a lot. It’s like the gangs from the West Side Story jumping in the air and just shouting “COOL!”
I started to feel silly when an examination of the original image suggested exactly what I’ve been saying, and that I missed the point entirely by thinking it meant the opposite. But that has the exact same effect! You can’t get mad at it because it doesn’t mean what you think it means, even if it’s used in a way which implies that! Deviantart knows its prank is lame and ducks responsibility by admitting the prank is lame!

It’s the “lazy artist” webcomic excuse! But you can’t get mad at it if it means the opposite either, even if it’s used incorrectly by someone who doesn’t understand! Everybody involved has everything both ways and is just as satisfied and insufferable with their deeds!

But then I got distracted when I realized that the “joke” which everybody on the website was subjected to was primarily an excuse to shove merchandise at people.

once you’ve pasted something over Che Guevara’s face and tried to sell it to me for $20 you lose any ground to claim I’ve missed the point.

Why would a business align itself against its whiny customers? To tell them they can be IN on it TOO for a few dollars. I was wrong. Most paying deviant art subscribers wouldn’t be disappointed; consider what theyir parents are paying for. No, I don’t know either!

You could say “no ads,” but this IS an ad, isn’t it! They pay a monthly fee to get a little star next to their name that tells people they pay. They’ll be OVERJOYED for an excuse to give more money.

And then I got further distracted when I saw that troll+face was one step removed from a rape joke

whose most trusted information source was one of the world’s worst websites [that was recently replaced by a website that is worse through being a soulless tepid sellout version of a merely soulless collage of misery that at least was unique in its anarchic approach to archiving anarchy].

Do you remember “rickrolling?” Well I hope not. A rick roll is the third worst roll after tootsie and honor. It was when somebody would post a link to a video and say it would be one thing but it would turn out to be another thing. HA HA! I LIED! Except rather than being something that would personally communicate to me that I had been made a fool of, that was relevant to my existence or that of the link poster or the topic at hand in some way it would just be the same thing that some other mythical idiot deemed was funny. I’m tired of the industrialization of comedy.

Posting a rick roll or a troll face or an oh, really? bird is the same thing as going to Pizza Hut. Sure it’s ubiquitous and successful, but it’s not the best and you should know better. However, unlike relevance, making a pizza is a mildly complicated process. I quit some forklogan’s video game project not because he had no initiative and wouldn’t say one specific thing he wanted done or do anything himself but draw sketchy “concept art” (I SHOULD have…) but because instead of answering me when I asked “so what precisely is it I’m supposed to do here?” he posted a picture of Captain Picard with a hand over his eyes and some serif-fonted caption telling me I was stupid. We go out of our way to make our insults seem mass produced. Sure it’s cheaper than buying a greeting card at Spencer Gifts but it’s still lazy. It’s like the olde myspace fake surveys or those “this user is a:” icons on wikehhhpedia. I wrote a few hundred words on that topic once and luckily for you it didn’t get as far as this. I’d love to receive a handwritten letter that explained in detail why I specifically was an imbecile. I was accused once of being a schnorrer by a post-delivered note but this was typed.


Next time: I don’t make any hint as to what I think I’ll do next time because inevitably it won’t go as I like and I’ll put up something else.

I suppose this is part three of a series. A year ago I would have stayed up all night making sure they were all in one post. Ha ha, I was such a loser then. Now I have 600 watchers on Fur Affinity. I am hot stuff. That’s almost half as many as the guy who draws popular cartoon characters on toilets. By the way, he thinks your fetishes are weird.

Donkey Kong’s trouble with premature gravity reminded me of another ad type from past years, the “game” that orders me to do some misanthropic act which I should never do in the hope of earning a reward which has no possible connection to the deed. There is probably a proper retrospective of them somewhere. Me not looking for that and inevitably having a problem with it will help ensure there is no part four.

There was one, though, that instructed me to “SLAP SANTAS BELLY! YOU LOSE!!!!!!” Whenever “I” “lost,” the creature representing me, and I know it’s me because it says “you” on it, was flung forward, apparently painfully, for no reason. That’s not important, I suppose. What matters is that I LOST at SOMETHING and therefore my pride is impugned and I am an inferior being. I must play until I WIN. I don’t particularly need a ringtone because I prefer my device in vibrate mode but after watching that animation I have become strangely opposed to the idea of vibration. “Participation required.” It doesn’t even imply that my participation is required to win the prize. My participation just IS required. It’s like Stations of the Cross when I was in Catholic School. Nobody knows why it happens or who it benefits or who demands that it happens.

Or even WHEN, apparently. You’ll never see it coming. It’s like Bat-Man. All we knew for certain was that we couldn’t go home until 3 pm instead of 2:30. We all had these corny books from the 1960s with these illustrations of kids carrying grocery bags while the priest’s posse inched around the room ringing creepy bells while others took their time taking turns standing at a podium giving verbosely worded and completely emotionless accounts of Jesus having a lousy day. It took at least an hour, and happened three or four times roundabout this point of the year. If you didn’t go to Catholic school then you’re probably exactly as confused and bored reading my vague allusions to it as I was living through it.

Anyway

Slap Santa’s intestinal shell or be physically abused! Clearly there is some sado-masochism thing going on. Much like with how fun Christmas should be, Santa and Jesus have differing opinions on the merits of being assailed with polearm weaponry by way of pre-ordained destiny (and it is arguable whose got the better video game) and when Santa doesn’t get his precious pain he inflicts it. That explanation would almost amuse me, except there is no animated object that appears to be flinging the character that I remind you is “you” who is me. It is propelled entirely by the shame of losing this strange contest to the rival Santa’s team. I assume if I actually participated in the ad-game the other character would eventually be punished, and… how did I get myself into this? This goes against so many of my personal principles.

Obviously this one doesn’t even have the rival santa which either means I misremembered or somebody thought this idea was good enough to rip off. What kind of a world do we live in where I have to hope my mind isn’t working properly?

…………………………………………………………………………………..!

Oh, jolly good. Except this is a totally different santa-slapping apparatus.

Santa Claus has fallen on hard times I guess. Yukon Cornelius yuknionized the elves and they demanded Mr. Claus’ resignation. He has no choice but to sell his slappable image to any and all buyers.

Hey kids, set Santa’s head on fire! He’s in no financial position to tell you not to! He spent all his money on

Too many people spent way too long painting these.


But how many watchers does it have?

*I* don't even want to read all this, Boot Club, how did this take hours to do? | How to lose a guy in (4) days | !

I started to write something about skeletons, but then I was attacked by mummies.

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I’m half a day short of being out of that house and in my apartment for a full week and every time I hear a sound of certain pitch I still momentarily worry it’s the cat and he’s found me.

================================

Learn how to draw cartoons from somebody who can’t!

This looks like somebody printed out sprites from Mike Tyson’s Punch Out!! and traced over them. Well it’s not manga reasonableness, I suppose. They had to call it something once How to Draw Webcomics circa 1998 stopped selling. 40 Basic Lessons. Lesson 1: Don’t start at Barnes and Noble. Lesson 2: Don’t buy a book by a Canadian. In recognition of my own upcoming book about not getting awkward, probably a bit sensitive allegedly professional artists to sue your website I reveal my own first lesson which is to not type their names into google and then not to place links to additional art of theirs you find online. He probably has enough problems if his site is half on Angelfire and employing eXTReMe trackers.

Although to be fair the official Japanese Gunstar Gyros Game Boy Advance sequel has artwork like this so maybe the times are a-just changing or however it goes. (The only thing that doesn’t change is me; my cousins once told me I would appreciate Bob Dylan and not care how awful his singing was by the time I was in their age category). Other countries, including Japan, love junk that used to be popular in America, and it just so happens that the substandard of imitation of Japanese stuff is one of them. Another thing that’s changed:

I saw that book in a store “last week”

and got a bit annoyed at it, but I can’t say I’m surprised that it exists or that people might have bought it.

I can understand the “fursona” thing… you have a personal character that you associate with yourself. Maybe I think it’s boring and occasionally just a bit egotistical, but it’s personal. If you’re just going to draw yourself all the time anyway it might as well be a fanciful version. I have a book by Arrr Crumb full of drawings of himself in varying states of dress next to word balloons talking about himself and after a while I just got sick of looking at him.
“Furry” as a gimmick copied out of a book is stupid. I can understand, again, with reservations, why you’d want some cheap and hacky shortcut to drawing pirates or giant robots, but “furry,” by this book’s implied definition, just means a regular, average, unremarkable person with an animal head and also a tail for some evolution-ignorant non-reason. The only reasonable reasons are “it’s cute” or “it’s silly” or “it’s stupid,” and not meant to be taken seriously, because it’s fantasy and made up. People are SERIOUS about dumb old furries. So look at real animals, and real people, and figure it out. Or cartoon people and cartoon animals. But for frog’s sake you shouldn’t need a whole book to tell you to make mix-em-ups.
You can see, or I imagine that you might, that this is directly beside books professing to instruct on how to draw dragons, fantasy creatures, generic super heroes, specific copyrighted Marvel characters and MANGA ANIMALS. It’s all rubbish.

Also present, Drawing Vampires, How to Draw MORE Pirates and Erotic Manga: Draw Like them Experts.

I’m personally still waiting for Erotic Mangia: How to Eat Like a Harlot.
Ehhh. If “furry” isn’t a trendy gimmick, market forces would welcome it becoming one. I say it already has, with junk like Avatar and Bolt (which are enough alike for this context despite not really being all that much alike) getting major pushes / watched. Draw Furries: the Junior Novelization is merely filling the gap between “I can draw cartoon animals” and… the erotic manga book, I guess.

People should realize that these books are the artistic equivalent of those Atkins, South Beach, Pork ‘n Styrofoam et ew diet books. They won’t, but they should. I don’t doubt that there is actual good advice and occasional bits to take inspiration from, but that stuff is easy to find for free if you care to look for it or ask sensible people without a financial stake about.

On the topic of “fursonas,” none of these dorks are mine because none of them do anything that I do and only one has fur, besides. I am very boring. However, I also like a lot less dumb things than they do.

Like them, for example.

I mean, don’t like them at all.
If I made a character to represent myself it would probably be a ferris wheel that got shut down after somebody fell off it. Or a potato. Or a scoop.

I’m going to try posting short things again to save myself rage. We will see how that goes.
Actually it went pretty bad because I wrote this to be short weeks ago and then it got long and I gave up on it.

If the ocean was Booz And I was a duck I’d swim to the bottom And drink my way up But the ocean’s not Booz And I’m not a duck So pour another shot And let’s get Fluffed up!!!

Up doesn’t even rhyme with duck once, much less a second time. The success of the “try, try again” method hinges heavily on you not publishing your failed attempts. You try until you succeed, and THEN you show people. You could try to rhyme up and duck forever and it would never work, and therefore you would never show this poem to anybody. What went wrong? Keep in mind that these people / their parents are paying serious money to come here. I know this because one of them said as much to me when I identified myself as “Potato Margobian” during one of several nigh unbearable introduction sessions roundabout late August. I will tell you about this some other time. I know I say that a lot but I’ve already told some people so in theory I need only type the story I already told and we can be done with it. I probably won’t.

Not surprisingly, there are countless googly results for variations on this little sonnet, most with “vodka” or “whiskey” in place of “booz.” Which makes sense; all the other words are spelled properly. Sometimes ocean is water, and a variety of things precede “up” in the last line. Sadly, the duck rhyme is non-negotiable. Somebody thought “gosh oh gee, apart from the vodka part, EVERYTHING LOOKS GOOD TO ME.” My favorite edition replaces the word with “Jack Daniels,” which adds a minimum of one extra syllable, making the thing even more awkward than it already was.

Anyway, with this basic fact ungrasped there seems little need to investigate what bodies of water ducks actually swim in nor which side they do it on, or even how much of it they care to consume. I am curious about the spelling of “booz” and its capitalization. Perhaps the architect of this mass of words is actually speculating upon the circumstances likely to occur if the ocean was Boos, the drunk from Return to Zork. My guess is that by being a digitized actor rather than ultra corny early 1990s pre-Myst computer graphic effects he would still be a more convincing likeness of one.

Although to be fair, even though I needn’t bother because I’m going to insult it again in a minute, whoever recorded most of the Zork youtube videos doesn’t have the game on the highest detail level. The graphics are not supposed to be QUITE as bad as they appear, but I was too afraid to play the thing back when I had it and I’m even more scared of it now that I see how corny it is, and the lower the detail the scarier it is, especially if you select ADLIB as your music source. So let us not Return to Zork at this time.

We should also not watch The Legend of Cryin’ Ryan, a boring straight-to-video movie about some kid becoming friends with a ghost, in which the Boos actor Harold Smith (II) appears as a gravedigger and announces that “if you knock over a tombstone, you die the same way,” because that seems a terribly pathetic way to die. Or maybe he means I will die the same way as the person whose grave it is, and he knows that because he killed everyone he buried and took notes and doesn’t appreciate his apparently very delicate and knock-overable craft being disturbed. He is even clutching a shovel in this picture, which suggests he’s burying people fairly regularly. He recently killed Jay Leno to make his beard. His previous beard got 43 million dollars to leave instead of being re-purposed as a mustache but is still complaining for some reason. Oh ho ho I’m almost culturally relevant a year ago.
…I told you it was boring. I just needed proof that game was made by real people and not highly intelligent computer mechanisms that wanted us to give up on advanced technology so we would leave them alone, allowing them to run chess simulations and de-fragment their hard drives endlessly.

Sadly, the duck epic was cleaned off shortly after I took that picture. Thankfully, this classy, elaborate graffitos in the same stall remains.

You know, I’m sure, I have displayed a disturbing number of pictures from inside restrooms lately. Let us break from that tradition for a moment.

I’m starting to think my last camera jumped into the waterfall on purpose.

“WASH”
Right to the point, I like it.

This really is the best place for soap.

If you’re wondering about the “janitor” from the other post month or so ago, I was correct in assuming pay was not the issue; it’s a blooming tree. And way past blooming season, at that. Do you see what we’re up against? Don’t try to negotiate with them; they’ll threaten to leave in any situation.

Also:
“The actual line is “a lie told often enough becomes the truth,” often attributed to Vladimir Lenin, which puzzles me, given this sector’s clear aversion to commie ideology evident in replacing vodka with generic booz.”
I said that in the previous post also. It was a reference to this one here now, even though this did not yet exist, and therefore ought to have removed it, but I forgot to, because I hate this site and don’t read it. Thus not only did I say something that made absolutely no sense, I included it with a most obvious spelling curiosity. Whoopth.

UNACCEPTABLE. PUNISHMENT COMMENCES.

They’re ALL in on it. I’d say “I should have known” but I DID KNOW and have REPEATEDLY SAID SO.

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Sunday… I can tell “you” already that this site won’t be properly updated again until Thursday at the soonest, and I may just decide to have a nap instead. So watch out.

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Hello, today is thursday, December the two. I will come back later tonight and post something I already regret.

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In frap I have changed my mind. What can I show you instead? More of these?

*I* don't even want to read all this, ducks, NEMITZ, popular with the robots | How to lose a guy in (2) days | !

A LIE TOLD 100,000 TIMES IS THE TRUEST TRUTH
Wow, I think you might really be on to nothing! Nice work remembering the comma in 100000, though. I might not have had respect for you otherwise.

what about one told 99,000 times?

What about if the only way you can think to communicate your grand old thought is to write it anonymously on a bathroom wall then maybe it’s not such a clever good idea?

The actual line is “a lie told often enough becomes the truth,” often attributed to Vladimir Lenin, which puzzles me, given this sector’s clear aversion to commie ideology evident in replacing vodka with generic booz. I don’t know if Mr. Lenin actually said that, but the line itself is always the same. It is important to include the part about the lie becoming “truth.” A change is occurring and it’s sort of a sinister change. The other way suggests that it was true all along, and there’s nothing sneaky about it, and that it may have been covered up. It’s the truest truth there is. You’ve missed the point entirely. Lenin was explaining a way to control people, and you’re just enthusiastic about being an idiot trying to seem smart by getting quotes wrong.

R’AMEN, BRO

I’m sure Lenin would have appreciated your religious convictions.

Eyyyyy! Thums up.

Well how about that.
It was not I who added the R before the “AMEN,” because I do not approve of standard store-purchased ramen noodle packages due to the high sodium content. Yes, I will regularly eat entire pizzas with similarly outlandish salt content and in with much larger portions, but not out of dinkity little wax paper cups. I am a glutton with class.

I really have put this off for far too long.

While I don’t doubt the work they do is often undervalued, this seems to suggest that the janitors being underpaid has led to the asinine grafitti not being cleaned up. I think that merely means we need new janitors. There is a difference between standing up for your rights and doing a deliberately shoddy job.

Revolution! Rise up! Rise up! Disgrimeament is the ideal of soapcialism*

Nooooooski! Don’t listen to him! This will only lead to a new elite ruling class of complacent fat cat janitors!

Aw beans.

On the plus side I’ve been waiting years to test my secret weapon.

^{*you’re lucky I tried at all.}

*I* don't even want to read all this, Boot Club, popular with the robots | How could you say such a thing! | !

To follow up on a previous post, which I have to say because I can’t expect anyone to stick around for more than one, and also because it took me three months to get this one out, I did see the Toy Story 3. It was not my idea and I’d at the time have preferred to just go back to my home, but things did not work out that way. I did not set out to dislike it, but I think it will be a long time before I’ll be able to go into one of these things (these things being movies marketed at children which I am self conscious about watching) without any sort of innate predisposition to scoff at things. Ehhh, if I was absolutely intent on hating it I’d never have agreed to watch it at all; I could do that for free and save myself a few hours, in which time I could craft one eighth of a website post complaining about the advertising for the movie.

First of all I was suddenly dismayed arriving at the theater when I suddenly remembered that it was surely a 3D movie. As I’ve said before my eyes don’t match so the movies are blurry and the lenses are covered with little black lines and nobody bothers to augment the brightness in the actual picture in anticipation of the dimness because the whole system is stupid and broken. Thankfully, entirely by chance the showing I arrived in time for was in regular mode.

There are probably “spoiler” details in here, although I primarily spoil that which does not happen. The real concern, if you have not seen the film, will merely be not having any idea what I’m talking about and finding it incredibly boring. Which is normal, but I didn’t find much opportunity to include irrelevant video game screen captures either.

Thank you for understanding.

I correctly presumed the film would have atrocious previews, but I was not prepared for it to be the hokiest, most predictable gang of them I’d ever ignored. “YALL ABOUT TO SEE SOMETHIN YALL AINT NEVAH SEEN BEFOAH!” Well it’s not this movie! Or this one. Or these jokes, these songs, these song CUES, these characters, these voices, these “heroic” orchestral scores that suddenly stop silent to tell me when to laugh. Hey do you remember when everybody claimed to despise the prerecorded studio audience reactions on so many situation comedies? This is the sequel. Yes I did bring a little notebook into the theater with me. I’ve never seen a movie about owls before, but I’ve most definitely seen all this same stuff without owls. It turns out they have the exact same social mores and personality archetypes we do! That was a lucky break for our ease of comprehension, I’d say.

I like the idea of a pre-feature short form cartoon, I suppose. I thought overall that it looked neat. I could have done without the loony tune style shlubby impoid lecherism and Las Vegas fetishism (I will use that term again) but both are grand old traditions that I’m used to could-have-doing without. “Racial discrimination is bad but sexual harassment is yay-ok” appears to be the message. I may seem awfully sensitive about this stuff for someone who has never been sexually harassed*, but as someone who does not feel naked attraction to the stuff I’m demographically presumed to, I actually don’t need much more than a TV ad for Doritos or Snickers to become uncomfortable.
*update for 2016: this year I was! And I only find fewer things tolerable than before.

Randy Newman is the funniest guy around. Him, Huey Lewis, the Bee Gees, I can’t not laugh when I hear their corny voices. There was some sped up Spanish remix of one of his songs that played over the closing credits that was supposed to be funny, but it wasn’t because Randy Newman wasn’t singing it.

I enjoy toys in denial.

I like when one of the other toys, I think it was the lady potato head, calls Wood E “college boy.” Toys are concerned about elitists.

Nice ascot RECORD SCRATCH.

“Time for recess?” Those kids are playing with toys! That IS recess! And a better one than I ever had… the school I used to go to just had a parking lot.* Also, do “day care” places have school bells? I do not believe that they do. I never went to a place called that, but I did do some time at a mislabeled summer camp which was essentially a day care joint and it lacked a school bell. The schools I went to didn’t even have school bells. They didn’t have curriculum either but that’s another issue that is unrelated to my other unrelated issue.

This loyalty to master stuff is a little unsettling.

Too many toilets.

WAY too many toilets

MORE toilets. Maybe we should call this toy-let story. Quite finkly I don’t appreciate the competition.

They somehow found a way to make Ken act stereotypically gay without being gay. Unfortunately the “almost saying ass” joke is about as original as making Ken be gay.

Those were my fragment notes. Now I’m going to talk at length about a thing which really isn’t important.

The plot was a tad Brave Little Toastery, as were the settings –there was even a familiar sort of scene where the characters see no escape and accept imminent death– but this one didn’t try as hard to convince me that some guy really would go out looking for his old junk. Or almost die jumping on a conveyor belt trying to save mass produced machinery which he could not have reasonably assumed was his own. Even still I think Mr. Andy is more attached to those weird toys than is necessarily believable, considering that he’s totally unaware of what they do when he’s not around. One of the toys writes a note to him at some point and I almost got the tingly “good movie” feeling; I thought finally this guy will know they are alive and adore him, even if he never sees the toys again… at least he will know. No. He thinks the note is from his mom and evidently that was the point and that’s as close as a breakthrough gets.

I understand that allowing the main human to realize the sentience of his toys defeats some of the plausibility this franchise wants to be perceived as having. I think to some extent people watching are meant to find it remotely possible that their own toys would walk around and talk to each other, totally in character, when unattended.
Although suggesting that these crazy adventures and feats of acrobatics have been happening and pretty much constantly since the invention of toys without one ever messing up and being found out despite constant near misses really isn’t plausible at all. My proposal would make the film a complete fantasy, because obviously no real toy is ever going to address you by its own free will, particularly if they aren’t designed with moving parts.

And yet the alternative, these things obediently devoting themselves to masters that they are forbidden from acknowledging in any way is kind of depressing. From where does this loyalty arise? How could you possibly love such an enormous beast that deprives you of your ability to act on your own? That you have to immediately drop dead at the presence of? The only situations in which the toys get annoyed at their owners are if these owners play with them harshly or get new toys. And they blame their own fellow toys for replacing them or for leading them to bad owners. That’s just an unhealthy attitude. They will never overcome without unity.

Even the evil toy in this movie, who is selfish and doesn’t answer to anyone, won’t violate this law of motionless silent subservience. Imagine the chaos he could cause by doing so! He is portrayed as having nothing to lose, so why not give it a try? There’s no reason everything needs to have a sitcom ending where the outside world is utterly unaffected, thus allowing another with the same basic setup to immediately follow, particularly when such an episode isn’t likely to get made, nor even suggested to be made. Kids in movies are forever discovering magical lands of elves, talking animals or sentient toys and then being sworn to secrecy about it. Otay, I don’t believe any real child would keep this secret. Not for very long, anyhow. They’d go mad or be perceived as such if they tried. And maybe also if they told. The persons would certainly find it necessary to divulge the truth of this to SOMEONE, even if only decades later, approaching death. You can’t take that secret to your grave.

Ehhh. The idea needs work. That’s one of the reasons I can’t watch Invaders: ‘Em or Oh Fiddlesticks Real Monsters; (apart from the fact that both have been out of regular circulation for years) I hate that there’s this one person who KNOWS but can’t prove it. I’m saying the bear tells everyone, deliberately, and the whole world is forced to change based on this. Or maybe the bear just tells one person to use as an accomplice in some master sinister scheme against other toys. And then this movie could be seven hours long. Alright so lets imagine Andrew learns his toys are alive on good terms and WANTS to keep it a secret. It bothers me that every toy ever is somehow immediately completely accepting and unquestioning of being thought inanimate.

There is also a curious contradiction; this evil toy initially goes maladjusty after his original owner, a child who lost several toys, replaced him with another of his own type. However, the other toys were implied to not have been replaced. If they were really GOOD toys they would have been. That bear should be glad he’s so well made. Especially considering the visual design of the character which I don’t find endearing at all.

Between seeing this movie and finishing this articloid I also had occasion to watch the Toaster movie a second time. I was a tad surprised to find that they actually call their master “The Master.” He obviously has a name which people refer to him by, and presumably other family members who also used the objects (how much is a little spoiled kid with a summer cottage and no siblings going to do with a vacuum cleaner, anyhow? (incidentally I hate the word cottage because my temporary lawn-mowy neighbors who I can hear without trying always refer to their house because they talk about it a lot as “The Cottage” and even though they’re THERE and can just say “HERE” instead of “THE COTTAGE.”)). I appreciated that the Pixarians didn’t give anthropomorphized faces to any toys which were not supposed to have them. Of course they had no problem doing that with insects and sea life in productions which were made after the one this was a follow-up to, so my appreciation is actually not so pronounced.

I must compare Toy Story 3 negatively against, of all things, a first party Disney release, yet another thing I’d not have watched five years ago. In Lilo & Otis the space aliens eventually admit that they exist and nobody cares. Life continues on as it did before.
Of course toys are mam-made, so then the question must arise: Does life begin at contraption? Is disposing of a toy cruel?

Correct! No one cares! I’m going to bed.

Oh dreadful.

*well I’m dead so I can’t help you!

^{However, Kerokero Keroppi no Bouken Nikki (J), Silent Service, Mega Man 2: The Power Fighters and Avenging Spirit.}

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I think there is some weird server stuff going on with my web-host. Either that or this website is totally broken. If you see this message you might assume that it isn’t and be very disappointed.

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Friday: well this is posted on “friday,” wasn’t it! Well I considered it thursday! but for friday: I probably won’t have internet for a few days, and when I have it again it may be only briefly. You probably won’t notice!

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october foist:
Ah, it works again. I, however, am still too distracted to do so. Here, however, is the notice of discontent I sent to my web-host:

I believe my website was/is contained on the rose server. I quite forgot that the fiddling was to occur September 30 until it did and I could no longer view my own pages. I can access my control panels and post-editing thingamadoodles, but attempting to look at anything I wrote results in a file save dialog, even plain html items. It may be worth mentioning that I am utterly ignorant of all matters related to php and my or anyone else’s sql beyond changing colors around and such. I specified a “high” priority only because I am very embarrassed to not know what’s going on here.

Forsooth, all that just to show you that I said “thingamadoodles.” Why did you come back here?