I recently implied a person’s brain to have “ruptured” following my display of a minor editorial oversight by the person. That was probably a tad uncalled for. It was, in fact, originally intended to follow a different, considerably dumber passage which indicted “manga nuts” in addition to the other two culprits, but then I realized I had just read it wrong, so it was only kind of dumb, and so omitted it altogether.

Ehhh!

SINCE WHEN is [the] Nightmare Before Christmas a Disney movie? I hate that. And they brought in the kooshbrain HELLY POTHUH announcer to narrate the stupid lying ad. I don’t give a boot if Touch-tone Pictures is Disney pretending it isn’t Disney. I still think that’s really sleazy to distance yourself from a production until it’s proven an ability to make money and then pretending you had been putting your name before it all along. While it does not imply the usual Disney ownership, limiting him to a role as post-mortem presenter while leaving in place the original “Tim Burton’s,” it must be acknowledged that Mr. Burton’s name is smaller and in a less legible font.

The best that came from Disney’s rare exhibition of shame was delaying the idiotic tie/cash-in video games long enough for me to hate video games and for Capcom to get the contract again (twelve years, from the looks of things), just because I’m selfless like that. Thus 1993 me was protected from another highly available acid-drip and drown pool dodging heed stomp-fest, and more importantly the worst possible music treatment when M. Sorbo played the worst possible adaptation on his Game-Gear every day during my and a select few other students’ daily hour-long, short-bus expeditions to Foundation School and subsequent half hour waits behind other buses in the dropoff line. The trip would have been much shorter, but M. Sorbo was the only member of the entire “school” from North Haven, leaving the town unwilling to provide a vehicle, but apparently East Haven is really nice as long as you aren’t black people. At least I hated the songs from The Lion King anyway.

I’ve never seen such a quick transition from overexcited back of box copy to self-unconsciously ridiculous fan reminiscing. On other websites than wikipedia.
I love that the writer tells me this Oogie character is a Disney villain allied with Malfeasance, but not that “artificial heart” means something beside the common, seventy-year old use of the term outside of a recent video game which the writer otherwise assumes I know nothing about. To someone familiar with the film but not Kingdom Hearts, for whom the paragraph is intended, else irrelevance, it seems that Mr. Boogehhh ate a lump of metal and plastic and attempted to procure nourishment from it, an act more moronic than villainous. Jack is the real monster for ordering the donor-waiting to do his trivial bidding in exchange for their very survival through use of his untested prototype, all the while knowing even the most sophisticated, non-grubby skeleton medical technology has not yet devised a long lasting replacement for the popular blood pumping organ and that the transplantation itself has a 21% chance of failure. Who’s the real “heartless” here?

Is it the combination of being a wikipedia editor and a Kingdom Hearts fan which causes people’s brains to rupture? Or is it just being a Kingdom Hearts fan? I won’t deny, it looks potentially enjoyable, but it has a truly unfortunate effect on people.
I neither wish to use the game nor can I read about it for more than ten seconds without reflexorily shouting something like “give me a break!” And I never get one¹! Yet I keep trying, because all this talk about hearts, darkness and dark hearts (not to mention tart carts when I discussed Foundation School) obviously suggest it is an unofficial sequel to Heart of Darkness, and I’m intrigued as to Donald Duck’s sinister relationship with wicked ivory traders in the Belgian Congo, the idea of which is slightly less ridiculous than some kid wearing clown shoes beating up Sephiroph with a big key for twelve minutes every single related video clip I’ve tried to watch or read the description for.

Every time I see the phrase “King Mickey” I want to scream. But I don’t. So thank me, people downstairs.

I mean, if anything, it should be King Michael.

I really want to stop thinking about this.

¹Edit! At approximately 8:45 pm, eastern standard time, somebody gave me a Kit Kat bar, quite without my asking. God works in mysterious, stupid ways.