Apologist Philosophies

     It came to my attention today at the cafeteria lunch table that a story I posted last week (the one about Anime vs. Comic Books) may have offended some people. The friends that I mentioned as holding pro-Japanese pop culture stances commented on the misinformed nature of my "Anti-anime rant." The way I see it, if I offended my closest friends, chances are some of the other people out there, namely the ones I don't know in person.

     The Anime thing wasn't the only post that I received some complaints about. An acquaintance spent a full three hours sending me hate mail through Facebook's instant-messaging service because of my support of Barack Obama. The kicker is that this guy isn't a conservative, he's a libertarian: he says that President Obama is too conservative. I suppose there must be others out there who feel the same way but lacked the outlet for complaints.

     Now that I've listed all of the things that I should probably apologize for, I'm going to make a point of not apologizing. When some people say "offensive," I say "though provoking." If you'll notice at the top of the page, my mission statement is to "enlighten some and infuriate others" and my reasoning behind this is that anger leads to different perspectives. If you feel offended by any of my content, that means that I'm doing my job. It means that you're reading a perspective you disagree with, which can lead to new discoveries about yourself, about others, and about controversial topics. So feel free to be angry. I encourage it. What's more, if you feel particularly infuriated and motivated to express your fury, please leave a scathing comment or shoot me an angry email. Just no death threats. My email server has a screen for stuff like that.

     Well, that was thoroughly serious. To ease the tension, here's a picture of two Darth Travolta and Samuel L. Fett.

"And I will execute great vengeance upon the Rebellion with furious force choking; and when I send my probe-droids out to find them, they shall know that I am the Lord Vader." Palpatine- 25:17

Somnolence

     Okay, this is a little divergent from my normal fares on this site, but I need to get it out there into the vast reaches of the world wide web.

     Do you ever get that feeling, when you're so tired that you become euphoric on your own exhaustion? It's the sort of feeling when, at 2 a.m. after a long day, you sit down to watch a mindless comedy like Pineapple Express or anything Adam Sandler has ever produced and, inexplicably, you end up laughing your head off? Under any other state of consciousness, you know that you wouldn't find stuff like that funny, but you can't help but find it hilarious because you're just so frickin' tired?

Oh god, my fatigue makes me want to laugh at this... 

     Well, if you are familiar with this state of mind, answer me this: Do you ever get really angry when you're that tired? An insatiable frustration arises in you that you can only answer by falling asleep and waking up in eight hours thinking "Wow, why did I get so irrationally angry at Lando Calrissian for spending three years in Jabba's palace without freeing Han? I must have been really tired. Or high." 

     I had this feeling last night after a party that ran from 3 to 10 p.m. I was falling asleep at about 1 or 1:30, and I was just so angry at the universe. Why? Because quidditch doesn't exist. I brought myself to the point of tears because I was indescribably frustrated that I couldn't just hop on a broomstick and through the quaffle through one of the three goal posts. 

     "Why, God," I demanded. "Why would you create a universe where wizarding sports only exist in the depths of our imaginations? Please, please let me play quidditch, God! I need this. Just this one thing!" 

     Thank you for humoring my arguably broken sanity. I swear I won't post anything this weird again unless it's both weird and informative. Or funny. 

Superman vs. Goku

     As promised, here's a little light-hearted but deep-minded follow up to that horrible political drama from earlier this week. But first, as always, allow me to bore you with an exposition-dump of background information (and also a cover illustration to tie the title in to the rest of the post):

This is only tangentially related to the meat of this article. 

     So, the above image, for those of you who were born and raised on Mars or at the bottom of the ocean, is of Goku, a Japanese character famous for his incarnations in the Dragon Ball manga/anime and its spinoffs and remakes fighting Superman, who is perhaps the single most influential fictional character in history. So, why, exactly are these two superhuman characters duking it out with their otherworldly powers? 

      Well.... 

The Penultimate Straw

This has become a little obsolete even before I publish it, as the political figures in question have become a sort of punchline of late, but I feel as if my two cents, for what they're worth (probably significantly less than two cents), should be contributed to the sea of screaming trolls that is the internet.

     So, the topic of today's rambling, incoherent rant on politics: Politicians rambling incoherently. What political figures will I be talking about ramblingly and incoherently, specifically? Well, since you asked:

You should watch this, if you somehow haven't seen it already. 

   There is one other authority figure that I will be spitting on and directing my incalcuable fury at today, though. Who might that be? you ask. 

     Do I even have to tell you? 

              

                                     

Yep, I'm jumping on this bandwagon. 

C'thulhu Wgah'nagl Fhtagn

     No, I didn't just slam my fists on the keyboard and hit enter for the title. That statement, or, rather, a phrase within a larger statement, is a pop-culture phemenomenon nearly as old as, well, pop culture (or, depending on how you look at it, as old as the universe itself). Conceived by a madman to populate the minds of fictional madmen who, in turn, were also conceived by the aforementioned non-fictional madman, the full phrase is "ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn." Roughly translated- and, boy, do I mean roughly as there is no indication of any grammar or sentence structure- this phrase means "In his house at R'lyeh, the dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." First documented, fictionally, in the Necronomicon by Abdul "The Mad Arab" Ahalzred and, in reality, by H.P. Lovecraft in pulp magazines, this is the motto of the Cthulhu Cult. 

      I'm sure, of course, that many of my presumed readers are familiar with the Cthulhu Cult and the Necronomicon, or at least Cthulhu! So, what previous exposure do you have, Dear Reader, to the wondrous beast from afar known as Cthulhu? 

      I see... Well, this won't do at all. What, then, do you know about the Necronomicon? 

     Surely, you must be joking. This... this schock is the only encounter you've had with H.P. Lovecraft's legendary legacy? Isn't there anything else you know about Lovecraftian horror motifs?! 

Honestly, I don't know why I even bother. 

     Well, it looks like I have a lot of work ahead of me. Read on, true believers or those wishing to convert to the one true faith in the Great Old Ones, and we shall explore the depths of the author's madness and the impact the Cthulhu Mythos has had on the world as we know it. 

Paranormally Good

     I first started this whole internet endeavor with the intention of analyzing and recommending films (inspired by my heroes, Bob Chipman and Doug Walker) and it seems that I finally have the chance to share with you, the Internet, the glorious Holy Grail of family cinema, ParaNorman.

     To make a long story short and spolier free, ParaNorman is quite possibly the best animated movie since The Iron Giant, which, in turn, was the best animated movie sense Walt Disney died.

     To make a long story full-length and partially spoiler free, but not entirely, read on, Dear Reader, and discover ParaNorman.

Erie Resemblances

     As you might have noticed, I've been writing a lot about Alan Moore's magnum opus Watchmen lately. As I promised, this latest post is not about creating a Rorschach costume. In fact, I don't plan on touching on Rorschach that much at all in this article- I mean, what's the purpose blathering on and on about a character many of you, Dear Readers, are unfamiliar with. Instead, allow me to enlighten you on the subject of Watchmen's plot. Don't worry, I won't give away any major spoilers to the end of the book, although I may not be able to help myself when it comes to spoling minor plot twists from the rest of the novel.

    So... where to begin? How can I relate the entire bizarre scenario of such a twisted novel to a presumptuously ignorant fan-base? I have an idea! How about I compare the various plot elements and characters of Watchmen to a narrative that you, Dear Reader, are more familiar with? That's how I taught my friend about the plot to the Inheritance Cycle: (which I shall elaborate upon in a later post, perhaps the next one) I just told him: "Imagine Star Wars, but in the Middle Ages. And with dragons."

    Can anybody guess what analogue I'm going to draw between Watchmen and a more accessible franchise? Go on, guess!

Never Compromise, Even in the Face of Armageddon

     And now, Dear Readers, it's the moment you've all been waiting for! The final, epic installation in the "How Does one Dress up Like Rorschach Trilogy." We've been through details about the importance of the character in geek culture, the significance of the various aspects of his costume, and the difficulties one encounters when trying to recreate his uniform. At long last, we get to see how one can go about learning the proper techniques and assembling a fully-functional and totally bitchin' Rorschach cosplay.

In case you were wondering, Maggie is Rorschach. 

The other characters are a story for another time.

Unless you want to read the book, which you should. 

When We Last Left Our Hero...

When We Last Left Our Hero... 

     The Almost Average Teenager was about to tell the audience that he may or may not have about the dangers of donning an outfit that is intended to be a replica of the costume worn by Rorschach: psychotic, murderous superhero and protagonist of Watchmen. 

        But wait! cry my hypothetical readers. 

     Why would you dress up as a psychopath to go to Comic Con? 

     Well, isn't it obvious, Dear Readers? Rorschach is a badass. Instead of superpowers, he uses the world around him as his weapon! He never compromises, even in the face of nuclear Armageddon! He doesn't question the moral dichotomy of good and evil! He- 

     No, I mean, why are you dressing up to go to a convention? 

     Oh. Wow, Dear Reader, you don't know squat about geek culture, do you? Okay, sit down, this is going to be another long one:

The City is Afraid of Me. I've Seen Its True Face.

The City is Afraid of Me. I've Seen Its True Face.

     For those of you who might be new to this blog, assuming anybody has ever read it ever (which I'm not counting on, just so I'm not let down when I find out one way or the other), I write and post extremely nerdy things. For instance, two of my posts last month were as follows: using a blockbuster movie as an analogue for an international crisis that has left hundreds dead and cost billions of dollars; and an interminably long and winded analysis of the phenomenon known as Comic Con. 

     

     Today, I assure you, will be as nerdy or even more nerdy than any of my previous posts. 

     Read on, if you feel you have the stomach for extreme geekiness. 

Creepy, Cranky, Comic Convention Crawlers

Creepy, Cranky Comic Convention Crawlers 

     In preparation for this year's New York Comic Con, I've been doing my homework: preparing my costume, re-reading my favorite comic book trade novels, designing and redesigning blueprints for my Rorschach grappling hook gun prop... you know, all the usual stuff. During this process, I've made some interesting observations on the subject of Geek Culture in America. At least, I found them interesting. 

     American Geek Culture, as much as some people try to ignore it, is a growing influence in pop-culture, and a larger demographic (especially in the most recent generations) is being swallowed up by the increasingly broadly-defined "Nerd" clique. I'd like to just take some time and see if I can enlighten some of the uninitiated to the nuances and subtleties within the culture of the Comic Con-crawling creeps who are conquering current consciousness. If I can, I would also convert those I could to the way of life that so many young Americans have already embraced. 

Infuriating

Infuriating 

     I just need to get something off my chest, so bare with me. 

     Those of you with weaker tolerance for the pitifully misinformed and painfully stupid may wish to leave the site. 

     Those of you who have been desensitized to the stupidity of the lowest of our species to the point of finding a sick yet amusing irony in the things they say may wish to stay on the site, because this is right up your alley. 

Proud to be an American, Where at Least I know... Something, I'm not Sure What, Though

Proud to be an American, Where at Least I Know... Something, I'm not Sure What, Though

     Another presidential election has been tearing the country in half for the past few months (coincidentally, this one is approximately four years after the last one), and the country is split, yet again, along the border of Red and Blue, Left and Right, Conservative and Republican, Elephant and Donkey, Fascist Corporate Android and Shiftless Dirty Hippy. Brothers turn against brothers; fathers against sons, a neighbor is at his neighbor's throat- the country has been cleaved in two as if by the giant paring knife of God. The media is in a tizzy; news corporations throwing their weight behind one candidate or the other. The entire nation is setting up for the final showdown: Team Romney versus Team Obama. The gloves are off, the gauntlet is dropped, the safety switch is set in the "off" position. 

But that's what elections are for, right? 

... and Really Bad Eggs. Drink Up, Me Hardies! Yo-ho!

     I was listening to N.P.R. this morning, as I do every morning, and an interesting story came on the radio. Apparently, the Somali pirate crisis is reaching a turnaround and the volume of acts of piracy off the northeast coast of Africa has gone down arithmetically over the past few months. According to the story, hundreds of pirates have been arrested and imprisoned by international law enforcement forces. What's more, most of the maritime criminals that have been incarcerated have been found to be leaders; higher-ups in the almost feudal system of piracy the Somalian crime syndicates have established. 

     The only problem that the Somalian "government" and INTERPOL face now is what to do with all the pirates.

     This whole scenario is ringing a bell, but I can't seem to figure out why... 

So, this is a blog? 

      I honestly don't see what all the hype is about. This whole blog phenomenon has swept my generation like nothing else, and, really, there are few trends that have infiltrated an age group as effectively as blogs have for people around 15-20 years old. Perhaps rock 'n' roll... World War Two, maybe... the bubonic plague, I hear, was rather inescapable in its time, but internet blogs (especially those on tumblr, I've found) seem more... I can't think of an effective word, but "permanent" and "all encompassing" come to mind quickly. That can likely be attributed to the way the internet works, I would wager. 

     This probably isn't news to anyone, but the internet allows an almost infinite amount of information to travel to any place on Earth nearly instantaneously. (I know this is a gross oversimplification, but I can't truthfully claim an expertise in software engineering.) What this means, for blogs, is that people- specifically younger people and the occasional frustrated, middle-aged housewife writing about food and romance novels- can share anything and everything with everyone everywhere at any time. 

     "Now wait," you may be saying. "You can do that with any part of the internet: e-mail, facebook, twitter, or myspace (if you're a hipster in a band). Why do you need a blog to share your videos, pictures, memes, thoughts, memes, news stories, and more memes with the world?" 

The answer is painfully obvious, although most people tend to overlook it: blogs are easier. 

     "How can blogs, or anything for that matter, possibly be easier than the whole internet?"