You will never believe what happened to me this week-end! And so I shall not make the effort to inform you of it.
========================================================================
Those are people alright. Yes indeed this appears to be a random sampling of [white male] human beings [of the same approximate age]. I have no idea who these people are but they’re hilarious. they all have the same dumb facial expression. this is like a mad magazine cover.
Apparently I can collect all five. It looks like the upper four collected the middle one, and the giant red pin on the blue one’s shirt insists there are 170 more where these came from. I wonder if they staged a jail break at the sitcom precocious child factory. I’m not even pretending I don’t know who they are to show my desired disconnect from this sort of thing; I legitimately have no trace guess at their identities.
This IS the same way I learned about Justin Beeper, but this isn’t positioned in such a way that I know what this gang is collectively called, and that makes it more amusing. I don’t necessarily need to look forward to somebody I sort of know ragefully decrying the utterly predictable success of this target-marketed executive concoction (even though that’s been happening for over forty years) and possibly find myself sympathizing until the person promotes instead something with just as much legitimacy and boring typicality but directed at their own demographic.
I’m guessing the second from the right is the leader, based on the expanded cranial space to allow for a miniature alien control center, and this is after the photoshop editing. These kids are utterly unremarkable and no doubt they were designed that way. They probably grow up into
someone like that and appear on different magazines. Who IS this guy? Precisely! Is it Jason Sudeikis? Is it someone from the Big Bag Theory? Is it the model portraying a doctor who appears in mass emails for semilegal phallus pills? I don’t know, but he sure is THERE. I already forgot what the magazine was called but I remember that there was a picture of a slim, unblemished human who passed for a doctor on the cover.
This person has credibility through holding the box. I know it’s not just a stock model photograph they took off the internet; it’s a stock model photograph they took off the internet and artificially inserted this box into.
i believe it because theres a picture of someone wearing a lab coat there. This could be a veterinarian, or a robot inventor, or just somebody wearing a costume, but the costume is what counts. The person isn’t holding a box, but it is a lady. And the text printed above her approves of viagra. That means that SHE wants to DO SEX with MEN WHO USE VIAGRA.
Like them. These guys are cool.
Even more than them, if it’s possible.
They meet up once a week to redo elvis songs to be about how their penetration apparatuses don’t work.
Viagra isn’t just for old white guys, either! Eh unless this gleeful fellow is only there to gloat.
E D is a colorblind affliction. Pfizer makes the pills blue just in case you aren’t because that’s the friendly kind of [entity] Phizer is.
And then once the pills kick in I guess the gang stops playing together and does something else.
Whatever it is, it involves shooting white stuff in all directions and out the windows.
This ad came out five years ago (judging by the television set and camera I was using) but it’s still relevant today. At least as much as elvis is.
Their motto is Viva Viagra. Long life to the artificial sex organ stimulating device. Not long life to themselves; they wouldn’t need viagra if they weren’t already having long lives, right? Although then Viagra wouldn’t be in business at all. The young, recreational users Viagra is legally prohibited from admitting it welcomes the business of would never see its ads in GOLF MAGAZINE, after ehhh.
I’m not buying Golf Magazine. I’m not buying golf magazine to SEE an AD. I’m not even buying golf magazine to see golf junk. I’m not buying Golf magazine to see an ad for VIAGRA, much less on the recommendation of another ad, one for the same product, at that. I KNOW about viagra! I wish I knew less! If there’s anything that you absolutely NEED to tell me you should do it now while you have my attention! I don’t even like golf. You know who likes golf? Decepticons.
Therefore I allege that decepticons are the primary purchasers of Viagra.
Everything makes sense, now that nothing makes sense.
In addition to being photographed, though, they have proven their ability to smile and be rich, a skill many robots currently lack. Alas, that means they probably don’t grow up at all. If they do, though, then they are truly exceptional robots. I see good things in their futures.
Look at this guy, if you can stand it. Now that I think of it, those could be Mitt Romney’s children up there. I heard he had a bunch. If these aren’t his, perhaps he’s looking for more. This picture isn’t Mitt Romney, of couse. It’s… who is it?
More importantly, who searched for “bimswel bow tie” 12 times in one month?
Who wants to see THAT?
What?! Why was this picture made? Who wants to see THAT?!
Some questions are best left unasked.
While staying with parents and assorted relations amidst the summer I discovered that The Weather Channel, first of all, still exists, but also it had, at some point, fired its original music department and is now licensing crummy Late Night With Conan O’Barbarossa musical guests from the late 1990s.
is the idea supposed to be that the theoretical fans of those songs now have miserable, habitual weather-channel watching lives, but would watch something else if they didn’t recognize the songs?
would the channel have been doing this all along if it had the money? was I fortunate to evade Bay City Rollers excerpts coming at me every morning while I gave myself indigestion from a pop tart, a bad dessert for breakfast, 30 minutes before I went outside to wait for the bus because it would drive past my house at full speed without even slowing down if the driver didn’t see me from the far end of the street, so I could arrive early to wait in the perpetually cold, featureless Catholic school parking lot because we weren’t actually allowed inside for another 20 minutes after the buses left us there and nobody saw any way or reason to make this system more efficient? Do I need a therapist?
However, I’ve never one time heard anybody say “you know what song I like? that really miserable one with the guy whining about all the peebul or that goofy one with the guy singing like Bosko.”
Somebody at The Label told the bands “these are singles. These are the songs that will be played on radios. Try and make your other songs worse than these.” That way, people only buy the singles instead of the full album that’s 1 cd in 1 box that’s cheaper than buying 4 different cds in 4 boxes. There was less concern for good non-single songs if the singles themselves were also bad. You might ask “but doesn’t the lack of distinction make the singles seem less more appealing than the non-singles, which are now relatively less less appealling, and so more less deserving of non-purchase?” But hopefully you won’t. That’s just confusing. But anyway this then served the function of thoroughly demoralizing anyone who heard them, so that if they also became musicians their songs would be just as pathetic and unpleasant, and if they got uppity it would be also be simple to replace them with another mopey band that sounded exactly the same. I will go into more detail on this on a previous occasion.
Why watch the weather channel on vacation? It reminds me of that time I wrote about being reminded of having to get up at 6am for catholic school, especially if there is cloudy lighting outside that approximates dawn circumstances. I think the same lady is still the on-air personality, too. This picture is not actually from August… of 2012. I didn’t think to take any pictures of the television. Yes I neglected my responsibility. It’s from August 2010. The only time I encounter the weather channel is when I stay with my parents. Maybe they secretly invented it. They aren’t millionaires because they spent all their money licensing terrible songs and investing in whatever THIS is. The house they rented had some system for “interactive” content on certain channels. One of them was this weather channel. Even for people who will have it on all day under proper circumstances this is too much weather channel. Yes, you should have an idea what the precipitation and temperature are expected to be like when you’re planning a prolonged outing. However, this information is irrelevant if your plan ultimately ends up being to continue watching The Weather Channel. This extra information on screen only makes your continuing to leave it on make less sense. You don’t need to wait for the extended forecast or the radar view; now they are visible at all times. The only gripe you can now make is that the division of the screen space leaves the elements too small to be read. Oh dilemma! At least you can still hear those totally kickin’ sweet nonthreatening light FM hits! Keep ’em comin’!
ya da ta, hee dee tee, fu fa foy, it’s my greatest mistayeeake. WRETCHED.
Bland, unremarkable verses only to lead up to that? How does that nonsense make money and then become “classic?” That wasn’t on the weather channel, but rather one of the radio stations the driver temporarily listened to during the return. I can remember a time when I was tolerantly indifferent toward it, but now I find it upsetting. I’m imposing it on you because I think you’re making fun of me for not being able to drive.
Hard to SAY what it is ah SEE in yoUuUuU meowww meowww moaning fat guy wearing a fedoraAaaA and THAT I always hated, even before I knew fedoras were bad news. I just thought they meant you were Clark Kent (who I only recently decided was a scumbag for unrelated reasons) or on Carmen Sandiego’s trail.
It’s important to be discrete and blend in when you’re tracking a master criminal.
Incidentorally, we should not have been asking “Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego?” but -when.- Of COURSE we haven’t caught her.
I tried to write three different updates today, Saturday. And so I finished none of them. I did successfully bathe, however, and almost combed my hair. The goal is to gradually yank out so much that hair that anything over a certain length is gone and the oldest hair yanked out has by then regrown to more a more reasonable length and I never have to cut it again so long as I keep up the process.
=============================================
You seem upset. It seems like you’re asking me “AREN’T you READY for the football YET??! It’s been out here WAITING. What are you DOING up there?” I would appreciate more patience and courtesty!
I will spare you my personal bus fare woes and do my best to assume $50 is actually really cheap for interstate round-tripe transportation and admission to a foot-ball contest, even if the thought of allocating 7-9 hours beyond that for such a thing profoundly depresses me. I would prefer to just give you $50 and have you tell me what a great time I had. However it would be more convincing if you said I was miserable the entire time and was nearly arrested for walking in a strange place.
I think it’s your job to tell me, and before I make time to go look at it. Also I think I know who took your question mark.
I thought I had a better picture of this, but I must have merely intended to take one after I brought this newspaper page to my home with the specific purpose of scanning it. Months later I found it jammed beneath my bureau and wondered why I still had it, since surely I had already scanned it, and decided to make waste of it to clear out needless clutter. And then today I looked and it was still there. So:
What it is: a front page notice for an internal feature on the Top Ten 1990s animated series. What could this possibly be bigger news than?
A guide for matching underwear to outer clothing, Useful if somebody throws a cartoon bomb at you that shreds your clothing so that all layers are partially visible but leaves you otherwise intact to complete your day’s mission once you’ve wiped off the blackface soot caricature. Written by an infantile twit who thinks “undies” is a word worth printing under some circumstance. I could understand if the author had some compulsive clothe-matching disorder. In fact that’s about the only context in which I would be curious. I still wouldn’t want to read about it.
Also, Bear in Underwear and Duckling Gets a Cookie?!?!?!? Young readers are being primed for tumblr posting. I think this is the same creative team that handles the university mass emails.
By your admission, everyone does this, so you come into the matter expecting no one to care. I shall now care harder than you deserve.
1. They’re frighteningly drawn, the background music is annoying, it employed one of the voices from Country Crock ads. Don’t ever challenge me to dislike something. That’s even the one 90s cartoon on the list I ever watched because I wanted to.
2. Great, you watched the intro. I couldn’t get past the smug saxaphone music. I didn’t know music COULD be smug until Hey Arnold. That music just thinks it sums up urban living. Hey we’re just trying to get by, man. You don’t need no fancy swimming pool and fax machine man. We got the music and the feeling and the bonds of our community. I want to punch that music for being so satisfied with itself and its universal life lessons that consistently left me bored and unmotivated and its infallible traditions mixing all the worst of the old country and the old religion that breed monotony and ensure anyone who’s a bit peculiar will be most unwelcome. I remember I went to a school (Cedarhurst) with “community meetings” in 199x and those were comprised of the most evil people I’d ever met talking about their feelings. It was disgusting. And all because of Hey Arnold’s smirky saxaphones. The cartoon was pretty lousy, too. That’s probably why the Cedarhurst students watched and imitated South Park instead.
Also, fire your typesetter. Not because of the truly basic error committed in letting the latter portion of a hyphenated word be on a line by itself, but because I don’t believe you employ a typesetter and am disparaging you in a roundabout fashion.
3. Here are some names. They prove nothing. You think you’re doing a public service just by reminding me they exist. You’re like those people who upload static pictures of copyrighted characters to youtube and only ever contribute the commentary “memories.” Remember that time we looked at the glowing box?
4. Was it hard to find utterly mundane dialog to quote that makes no sense out of context that will do nothing to inspire any interest in what you’re talking about? That’s only barely odd.
5. Ha ha ascots are hilarious, right? Just saying “ascot” gets you a Jimmy Kimmel pass on your comedy routine. You ought to add a treatise on the box art for the first Megaman game and FOR SCIENCE for science good measurement (measuring is more of a mathematical matter). I consulted my list of topics that are always safe but I was distracted when a ferret with an unusually detailed manly facial expression rode by on a unicycle.
6. Yeah those were the days, weren’t they. Why say anything? You have NOTHING. A crouton could do your job. That program is notable for definitively signalling the era of cartoons inspired exclusively by stereotypes of existent cartoons with no connection to nature or real human emotion. Nobody ever needs to learn to draw ever again. Splat sproing eye-poit awkward silence catch-phrase exaggerated vocal intonation blue-tinted glasses. Or maybe I just thought it was ugly and never really watched it. My disdain for it is also a stereotype, of what I usually hate cartoons from this period for. Which I could be criticized for, and would therefore be a more intellectually stimulating use of this space.
7. All you got from the program is that the titular character has a food service job?
8. Good work, you actually gave me some information. However, you didn’t even notice that the main character on the previous show was a sponge so a protagonist of unlikely biological composition may not be an inherent designation of quality.
9. Evidently this is not an animation at all but an audio recording which brought shame onto a lyrical void-filler from the 1950s. I assume Ray Mundo is the asteroid-headed cavern-mouthed round-toothed goon on the show who writes utterly daft newspaper columns. Rocket Power’s inclusion is the most promising aspect of the list, though, as far as sincere or unique thoughts go, because prior to now I’d never heard of anybody liking Rocket Power at all.
10. “enough said” is NEVER enough, unless you say nothing at all, but you already didn’t. You shouldn’t have needed nine practice attempts to realize you were irrelevant.
It is an article that computes the value of an obscure character by the amount of crummy internet image-repeating non-gags based on it. I should be as annoyed by it but I never found it waiting for me beside the entrance at a place that I paid money to attend.
Is it fair of me to criticize the cartoon list without presenting a counter-list? Yes. It is nothing less than benevolent of me to spare the internet one more arbitrarily enumerated countdown. I’m not sure there are even 10 1990s cartoons that I’ve watched enough to make a definitive rank for, much less that I liked. I remember watching lots of Ninja Turtles during the period but it would greatly sadden me to presume there are at most nine things better than that. Hey Arnold definitely isn’t one of them. I realize the ninja turtles moving picture program premiered in 1987, but this author’s criteria seem to only require that something aired in the 1990s, which makes the limited range of entries seem all the more myopic. I want to see this bofis’ top ten 1990s video games list. It’s probably all the Tony Hawk titles, Croc and one of Namco’s annual full-price rereleases of Ms. Pac Man.
This is the editor’s note. this is the part of the newspaper that is at the sole discretion of the person in charge. If it’s assembled from reader or staff input, that would be less of a non-story (and so some of my ire less justifiable, but it would also be less cruel and personal and thus equally justifiable) but it doesn’t say even that. “Dear readers, there is something important I have to tell you: my parents locked out all but 2 channels and I couldn’t find any hints in a cartoon about people wearing bell-bottom pants who drive around in a psychedelic-colored van that place it firmly and unquestionably in the 1960s because my upbringing was so sheltered and I just take pictures from wherever I feel like.” The image adorning the section is watermarked “g99fr9Ak.d9viAntArt.com” and filled with what appear to be stock images or pointlessly on-model renditions of various characters from the 2 cartoon channels.
There it is, that didn’t take long. I’d love to tell the artist this school newspaper just ganked it off her page without permission, but evidently this wasn’t the first such incident and it’s just a heap of boring copies of hideous characters anyhow (also, now it’s on MY page, and twice). This appears to be, by far, the most popular work in her gallery, which is comprised otherwise of realistic human portraits dissimilar to this (apart from them also being close copies).
I should have taken advantage of this to complain about how offended I was, but then I’d probably be invited to write the subsequent edition of the newspaper, and then I would have to motivate myself with the horrifying thought that somebody might be reading it regularly.
I generally do not associate with readers.
Everybody knows how much I love the website “tumblr.” Everybody is also occasionally confident of erroneous information. “Tumblr radar” is a section of the website layout for identifying “hot” circulating objects, as a convenient and benevolent means to ensure popular stuff gets more popular. However, in practice it generally just shows really bad artwork from a limited range of grotesque styles.
This is the first thing I remember having a problem with. “why the heck is this artless piece of trash on the ‘radar’.png” I asked, unaware in May of 2011 that this was the radar’s primary function and that we would continue to regard each other in the same way for the duration of our relationship. I had a minor rainbow breakdown in November of that year, and didn’t even need to incorporate this picture because it’s so consistently done and unoriginal and so consistently praised for being original.
I’ve seen rainbows come out of every possible orifice, but almost nobody ever eats one. Although it is difficult to tell which direction this one is travelling in, the idle teeth suggest involuntary action. For decades the Skittles company has invited us to taste the rainbow but never to overindulge to the point that we can no longer contain it within ourselves. This picture is “original” in the respect that the protagonist does not have a horse-like shape.
1-6-2012
Afterward I had this labeled “tumblr radar tops itself by tunneling beneath the worst thing it showed me previously.” I don’t seem to have kept a record of them prior to this. Now I reevaluate my position because though it took absolutely no effort and brings me no joy to look at, i can at least swallow a piece of food while it is visible. Even if it is a rainbow excretion orgy it’s being run on Atari 2600 hardware before they figured out how to make those gradient backgrounds.
1/7/2012
This is literally a picture of typed characters. Why do i bother? Even the infinite monkeyss at typewriters would be disgusted to have this shoved at them as an example of success.
1-22
I’m not proud of you for remembering something that somebody else said! Even if that person’s name rhymes.
3-19
Oh I just noticed that says “explodingdog” on it. I’m not looking to know what that is but I’ve seen that particular random combination of words before. Sure that and toasty frog and flying omelette and dresden kodak and
There’s no subject matter that people who can’t draw and can’t think like better than coffee (except rainbows issuing from bodily orifices and food with faces). Coffee + bad art + high exposure + underlining how lame it is = MORE exposure.png. Yes the whole internet must know that somebody approves of coffee (and bagels, the world’s least exciting food after wheatabix). Rather than stand up to their expensive addiction or peacefully coexist with it they gleefully pay homage to it. It’s the exact same way cigarettes were treated in the 1950s. Except cigarettes are only expensive now because of unfair taxes on them; coffee is obscenely overpriced just because the people who sell it feel like obscenely overpricing it. Maybe 20 years from now there will be anti-coffee campaigns, taxes and lawsuits and trendly sorts will have a replacement religion based around waiting in line every singular day-length-period to pay to have themselves punched in the stomach while experts assure everyone there are no longterm health detriments to doing that. I eat ice cream because I like the way it tastes, but I’m not nearly proud of myself for doing so.
Have you heard? I quit.
5-30
If you’re too late to be fashionably quirky, you can always get by on pointlessly disgusting (but don’t forget the teeth). An entire generation of animators who watched Ren and Stimpy and never found a fault in it have proven that.
At this point I considered that it might be necessary for me to disable the radar entirely. Tumblr provides no means to do that, but browser extensions have been designed to do the deed. I never installed one because I also considered that I would probably write something like this and might want a better horror selection at such a time. I hate/appreciate me. Having fulfilled that, I have today concealed the thing. I am a questionable entity.
6-7
What the orp even IS this thing? I had to look at the large size version to figure that out, and I still couldn’t tell. Is it cells under a microscope? Is it a geographical map with the color balance altered? Is it a dirty kitchen floor? Is it a spoiled wheatabix? What I do know is that it looks like nothing I want to see, and digging and doing research to find out what it IS wouldn’t change that. However I suspect if I went outside and dug I’d eventually find something this reminded me of.
7-6-2012
I see this same artist or somebody utterly indistinguishable far too often. The same hemispheric line mouths with the same large dot eyes directly at the ends, the same parallel, turned-on-the-side feet that would be incapable of bearing weight. If you see a piece of food or a popular electronic trinket with limbs and a face it’ll probably be one of these, especially if it’s printed on a shirt. And fine, one person can have a style. But copying it bothers me. I consider art “better” during the ages of guilds and mass apprenticeship because people who could copy but not create had a greater standard to silently adhere to. Unfortuantely all they were allowed to paint were Jesus and hills. Now people are free to draw any sort of things, such as bands they’ve been ordered their whole lives to think are great. Or at least as long as their recent marketing surge has persisted. Do you remember what a huge deal it was when the Beatles songs were at last at first available on utines? Even though Beetols have had every single album of theirs available at every single record store since they existed? And that even stuff that they didn’t finish or remember they’d made was just as hard to not find? Well I hope not; I’ve currently forgotten if I put that complaint in an entry already and I’d hate you to know I was repeating myself.
When did people get the idea that it was alright to draw feet like that? 1493bc in Thutmose’s tomb? This is the “I’m about to fall over and twist my ankle” pose. Hopefully those little saran wrap box toes don’t brush up against any flesh in the process.
In fairness to the radar, somebody reblogged this at me, after several thousand other people expressed, I’ll assume, approval. I reduced the size for the sake of consistency and a misguided belief that nobody has a problem with me copying their pictures if I keep them tiny, but I should make clear that for every basic large natural detail that mystified the artist there is a tiny fully rendered round tooth protruding from the mouth (and then a strip of three stuck together). These people love to draw teeth. I had to stop looking at my queue entirely because even people I liked invariably liked stuff I hated enough to tell everybody about it with such regularity that I could no longer look at my flow of updates at all without getting so mad that I wrote a brooding paragraph about it each and every time. This wasn’t even one of those things, and look at what a state I’ve entered over it.
8-14
Ah great, back to getting mad at people I have no tangential relationship to. Is there a law against being able to draw and getting on here? I figured out from the comments that one or both of these floating torsos is from a television show. I couldn’t tell what and didn’t care to remember. The drawing is still not a thing of such magnificence to be broadcast all across the land. You don’t need to upload everything you thoughtlessly doodled on an envelope during a telephone conversation. The second one at least shows an attempt to be done better, but it comes across as creepy because there’s so much no detail and suddenly heavy cheek lines, a bloody-lipped semi smile and eyes that don’t appear to be facing any direction. I suppose it’s progress that I have a clue where to start complaining, rather than being baffled into irrelevance..
9-yesterday
I dare you to put a picture by somebody who can draw on there. Although now that I have turned the thing off I’ll never know if my dare is received, and thus it may be. I am selfless and beneficial to society. And so tonight I will sleep and not worry what innocent person I’ve needlessly wronged by complaining about what they made and exhibited for free and never asked to have shoved in my business.
====================================================
====================================================
Friday the 28 – Saturday the 29 interval: Good news! I have a word heap that will be ready to display in the morning, which needs merely to be proofread with a mind clear enough to see errors but not enough to know better. The bad news is that I was kidding about that being good news.
Asterix and Cleopatra, 50 bc (English translation, 1969)
Beat em and Eat em, 1982 (note that Dynacom owns the registered trademark of all video games)
Asterix and Cleopatra, superfluous English retranslation, 1995
Soup and Rainbow Duck, 2012
What does this prove? Morals have slipped through the ages, to the effect that eating beets in public, forbidden in the ancient society of 50 bc, has been reinterpreted as a positive so now fools flagrantly flaunt their bow ties and order singular beets on plates in the company of ducks in our finest restaurants. I mean the wretch went to a restaurant and ordered one plain, uncooked, unadorned beet on a plate. That is all. It could have gone to the beet market and bought one beet and eaten that in its own home on its own plate and not had to have gotten into anyone else’s business, but it enjoys dominating people and lacking scruples. Even Bat-Man, known to associate with some crooked sorts
too cowardly to reveal their identities, could not stop this horror.
He hasn’t been seen since. He definitely wasn’t in that Dark Knight Rises movie. Yes between that and the new Spider-Man I’d say both could benefit from having Bat-Man in them.
Yes, an almost direct redraw. Nothing [new] is going on, and I don’t have time to fully detail it this moment, due to educational resumption, and in fact I suppose that’s the end of this (and that) then until December, but somehow it is more visually interesting than the first few redraw pages, so that is good, idn’t? There is only one more major “rewrite” after which I can probably just enlarge and trace these. Ideally, the additional material I need to add will be equal to one full page length overall so that it fills in the numeral gap that’s been there since I added the first redraw pages, that consolidated 4 into 2 and added an extra 1, resulting in apparent gap in the sequence that jumps up one every time I add something. I shall spare myself the two minutes of going through the list and lowering all the remaining numbers by one. Look at this, I even forgot that the real “new” pages are supposed to be “this” and only the old new pages are “that” and now I need to fix the last few new updates to say this because currently they say that. Oh what a life.
And then I also have to remove that “joke” with the vibrator because I don’t think most of them look like that (I recall that the variety I chose was in a dishonored minority), I don’t want to draw what they do look like and I don’t like that there’s a vibrator joke in there, even if it’s in a fictional context within my own fictional context. Anyway, time for not bed because I also have to do some other dumb thing for somebody else now.
Good news is that i am getting better at tablet usage. Some less good news is that this really looks like somebody used a tablet for it.
No more bar scenes, thankfully, except for a brief optional interlude a few pages on. It appears I have totally given up trying to create convincing interiors. I tried to make manga action lines, repeatedly. It is not my fate to accomplish that.
If I am getting closer to developing a system through which I know precisely how much space I need to allocate for each element for the best effect, it is not evident here. I really should not try and force so many figures into such small spaces and then try and give them all lines to say.
All my focal characters are invariably surrounded by little people that they can toss around when they get mad. Some of those may be muppets and not gnomes.
I had attached above a previous entry but it was a totally different topic so I suppose it’s worth placing separately.
I overheard that Lance Armstrong is being “stripped” of his titles due to palling around with dopes, a truly revile-worthy act. If you want to punish him, let Lance Armstrong keep his titles but strip him of the name “Lance Armstrong” that is synonymous with the sport moreso than his trophy collection or whatever he won apart from the money that is not also being stripped of him. Maybe we should just strip him in general, in public, wherever he goes. The anti-dope authority could have operatives that follow him around in disguise and yank his clothes off at the worst moments. I also heard that he was “banned from cycling for life.” Which is a good idea considering that he’s retired or reached the point where he threatens to do so every year. I noticed he wasn’t banned from competitive cycling; it sounded like all cycling. He can’t keep a bicycle at his house. He can’t have a tricycle, either. Or a washing machine, because those run in cycles. We’ll have to confiscate his encyclopedias, too. Ransack his house, find that Grolier cd which came with the $3000 basic desktop computer he bought in 1996 after winning the Tour Duhfrontz the first time. We’re finally gonna GET this guy for making Americans give a flopping fish about professional bicycle races. As much as you Europeans hate having an American win it, think about how THEY feel. Armstrong was probably ordered by the US government to use “performance enhance”rs just so that would make him sound tough when the story came out since that’s what American tough guys do.
Mr. Chu, when I posted this initially, spoke up to the effect that just about everybody involved is probably putting SOMETHING inside themselves that they are not meant to, and Mr. Armstrong was targeted because he was the winner, and the important thing in all this is that it generates garbage publicity, which benefits everybody involved, Lance included, probably, I inferred, and the collective societal elite get to continue their prolonged respirator-assisted laugh on the rest of us. And then I said something like “I am definitely of the belief that there’s little difference between the “illegal” substances and those $200 jars of dust that somehow fill racks and racks of shelves in different varieties at “nutrition” stores. They are legal primarily because they aren’t illegal yet.” In fact that’s exactly what I said. I have a good memory of what I selected and pressed ctrl+c over.
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.
===================================================
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.
Pofe, I thought Monday was the day, not Sunday. Sunday makes more sense. Ehhh I have something up here but I suspect I should read it again after sleeping, and before any other hypothetical person might have had the opportunity.
==================================================
The world lost a true video game legend from the old days on Sunday… Rest in peace, Joe Q*Bert. Like his ancestors he will be entombed in a brightly colored isometric pyramid. Those wishing to pay their respects are asked to hop on it.
=======================================================================================
I have no idea where this fringo character’s bumpkin accent comes from, since i have not shown anybody else to talk like that (although I occasionally fill space with a pumpkin). Stereotype characters come pre-equipped with matching dialects I suppose. I should probably have somebody say “fringo” at some point to make it clear that this creature has a name and that it is that. Apart from “nemitz,” I rarely think to use anyone’s name.
Speaking of that, as evidently we must, nemitz has -NO BUSINESS- >LECTURING< **ANYBODY** on the topic of etiquette. nemitz is an ignorant, ignorant imp. As for elpse, it clearly thinks it is the falco of imps. Those two both need to go. Slapping seems to be the dominant fight currency round these parts
I did something peculiar with the drawings this time. Due to the peculiar circumstances of last week I can’t tell if this was faster or was not. It certainly does not look any better and may be lacking in aesthetic purity compared to my past techniquoids. Yet I must try it again for the sake of consistency because this is half a page, even though that distinction is meaningless on the internet.
hello there. I have somehow ended up in a house without internet for the week. However, if I walk five minutes along the road and sit on a bench beside it with no homes in view I can get it just fine. Which sounds good but consider this regrettable thing that it has allowed me to post now instead of considering if is a good idea for six more days.
Graveyards are profoundly depressing in the respect (RESPECT I say) that even in death you will be defined by your personal monetary value, or what your family struggles to make its value appear to be. The people with the highest social rank have the biggest, most elaborate graves, even though they are no more dead than anyone else trapped in a box and hidden there. This is the grave yard near Yale university, which means it’s full of decorated military leaders, government officials, deans and professorial types. It’s no smarter or talenteder than any other cemetary, but it sure seeks to convince me that it is with these huge grey rocks. Oh mab I wish *I* had a huge grey rock! I’m so jealously reverent!
I have visited graveyards before. I always have a good time and a positive attitude.
The rich dead even have fences to keep out the poor dead.
I entered the cemetary because I was looking for a more efficient walk toward my apartment from destinations that seemed to lie in a direct line from it but that I always needed to take etch-a-sketch-esque-a-skesque routes to get to and from. The local google map showed that I could walk directly through the yard, but there was no door at the other end (it probably got dead and is buried in there somewhere), which I did not realize until I was at the place where it ought to have been, resulting in my taking a full graveyard tour and even longer to get back where I came from than usual. I should not complain for google misleading me as there is an underpass near my home that has been blocked due to “road work” for almost two years, and I regularly witness cars drive toward it and come back 30 seconds later, because, I assume, some electric direction system or another told these motorists they could go that way, because in theory it was unblocked at one point, and I find that amusing. The time I was almost arrested for being too close to the highway at a place I could walk to from my apartment, the police driver dropped me off at a place that I could not walk to because she didn’t realize the road was blocked, and it might be ascertained that she or her car lives in town.
If I have a grave I want it to have a practical function. Something that would have value to people who are still alive and have feelings. Maybe I can have a stone conveyor grave that will help people get out of the cemetary faster.
I don’t want a grave at all, but if I had the money to make a big stupid expensive grave I would want it to be as tacky as Falco’s. Something that people could laugh at in a miserable place like this that was deliberately laughable.
But I do not wish to have a grave. Don’t make me deal with your pets, don’t give me a sandwich with white goop on it, don’t identify me with “mister” or my middle name initial letter and think you’re endearing yourself to me, don’t toss unlabeled video links at me and expect me to click them, don’t bury me when I am dead unless you murdered me and are hiding the evidence. That’s just sensible. Consider this my will if you kill me before I write one.
Although if you want to be safe, rent a boat and go out to sea and toss the body overboard. Most likely the corpse will arrive at a shore far from the murder site long after you did it.
A parking space for a deceased’s automobile. That wooden obstruction is to keep a really dumb goat from escaping.
Bird, you’re too heavy! You are knocking that stone over! SHOW SOME RESPECT, BIRD! This is hello’d ground! That means it is fully saturated with greetings and doesn’t need your empty chatter. Do you know what will happen if you disrespect a wealthy dead person from two centuries ago who had lived in comfort among a repressed population of peasants? Somebody alive now will get really self-righteous about it for some reason!
Here lies Eli Whitney, famous for every street in town being named after him. He also invented the cotton gin, which helped inebriate cotton-picking slaves so they would temporarily forget that the effort-eliminating invention didn’t actually give them a break in any way. (note to self: look that up once you have regular internet access again to see if it’s historically valid (note to ross ice shelf: please thank ross for giving me a place to store my ice))
Rinkety dinkety graves for meeply folk. These may not even be secured in the ground. I think they are propped against the wall. These are the most interesting graves to me, though, because they are in all different shades of brown. Unlike eli the whitniest, their roaming undead spectres can’t afford to pay someone to clean off their demise mark once in a while.
Nobody is named Henrietta anymore. Whenever I see the name I immediately think of anthropomorphized farm animals. I can’t imagine anybody named Henrietta that isn’t a cow or a pig. Even this has a picture of a bird on it. The person got dead recently, in 2007 but seemed to have lived a long life, since 1916 and was appreciated enough to get this generous sized granite lump and so I think can handle such treatment from me, even if she wasn’t rich enough to get a fence.
I like this place because there is no pavement and it reminds me of the video game Hexen. This is one area that might actually resemble how the grave zone initially looked and doesn’t have any crass modernism mixed in. Of course Hexen is a video game about slaughtering undead wizards and wraiths (sadly, no skeletons) and I actually shouldn’t find anything comforting about that and in any event it was made in 1995. Even by video game standards that is only the equivelant of one century. But this does make something significant occur to me.
Suppose there was an undead uprising. For all the respect their retainers demand the dead themselves show little to us in rudely screeching when they see us and detaching their heads from their bodies to spit fireballs, or worse, keeping their heads and throwing bones at us. We should not bury them intact all close to each other! And we should be suspicious of anybody who defends their right to not be dismembered.
Also note there are ALWAYS imps present. I didn’t bury no imps. Who let this happen? We really should prohibit imps from entering cemetaries. Any imp that tries should be forced to present its papers. Obviously imps don’t carry paper around and aren’t licensed to exist anyhow. That should keep them out.
Somebody called Kiki-Uma drew this. Ordinarily I do not post drawings by others here. Not out of principle, merely that I rarely do it. However I must protest on this occasion. Not the non-policy; in fact if it were a real thing I would be prevented from showing this image and then would have less to protest.
I protest dopes. This is notable for featuring an imp that once proclaimed its feet splendid while amidst danger. Here it has no feet or conceals them out of shame and it is rightly served. Of course on the previous occasion it was also decapitated, but perhaps it will only learn if the punishment is directly tied to the wrongdoing. It is rare that an artist so effectively captures the utter stranglobility of these useless wretches. I cannot stand it. But I must, because my chair was so disgusted at the sight of them that it went for a walk.
I want to punch them! They are so proud of themselves! They love having large ears and being absurd. The dope’s ears were pretty gosh darn big before but this is beyond inexcusable, refusable and disposable. These fiends have interfered with road traffic through their aimless game. Luckily the dope is too dumb to realize that it isn’t green and surely any motorists who aren’t dopes will also notice and suspect that something is amitz. Amiss, pardon me (but not them). As for nemitz, how can we possibly punish something that likes beets and likes dopes? This lot is incompetent. They are unfit to stand trial. Rather they should be jailed and executed immediately. I initially wrote that last remark about the bow tie creature but it probably applies to these as well.
Everything dope related is a sabotage of decency. I should not be surprised that they have upgraded to actual mechanical sabotage.
attention populace, nemitz has issued a thumbs up rating on the topic of nemitz. I cannot stand idly by while nemitz is tolerated. I pledge to fidget uncontrollably until justice is done.
I was recently in such a place that a tremendous fuss was made over me placing a hat on a table. I consider that classy compared to a big fuzzen nemitz foot. The trouble with nemitz is that everything it does is troublesome
nemitz has a master’s degree in crumbummery from bob dopes university. and it thinks it’s better than me because it has a degree and I don’t. But its wrong; I have many degrees of rage-induced heat which while not adequate to boil nemitz alive will surely aid its discomfort. I will toss nemitz into a landfill. sooner or hopefully even sooner it will stay there.
In response I drew this picture with that artist’s characters: the frogoid Chiro in the center and the two “mist twins” Yaku (red) and Yakuma (blue) who appear together sometimes. However, something stupid happened and several more dumb imps appeared. They really have few scruples. When I engage in picture-swapping it is my personal policy to give too much or too little so that the other party is as uncomfortable as possible. It is the only way they will learn.
page 50.5 of this… it continues along despite my current peculiar mental state. I have left empty space for the event in which I recover and figure out what is supposed to be there.
When I was painting I would say with some regularity that I couldn’t quite understand my own images before they had color in them. Perhaps that is a factor in my inability to produce coherent ink lines that do not require a week or more of post-scan revision, assuming nobody else needs me for anything. I can understand OTHER people’s completed monochromatic images but mine in progress are baffling. I don’t doubt that people exist who could make sense of my pencil marks and choose colors that I would enjoy, and save me weeks of meddling. I merely suspect that my likelihood of knowing any who would have their own time to do it in is minimal. It would not be morally fair, anyhow, to have somebody else have to look at nemitz so often, monetarily compensated or not.
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!
====================================
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.
Somebody evidently called Cody whose primary online presence that I am aware of is tumbly seemed to want, for a reason I could not discern, a picture of the imp Topaglior, the dope ripoff I ripped off for the illustrations for the text to a baffling “play” I “wrote” in 2004. So I drew six instead. Even more baffling is that I posted them here. They are not doing anything of consequence. Neither am I. I hope that they feel welcome.