#i made this because of how reptile like most art of em is when its believed these things were more like mammals | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nyota-sungura · 5 years

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Story Development { And so you sleep with lilacs and roses } | Bambi ;; Its a long one folks. Forgive me @tanukihost, for I have sinned--

A long night. Bambi hadn’t expected it to happen again, it had been so long since the last one. Since that awful night had made its appearance in his nightmares. It was a single incident that changed every possible thing in his life. A singular instance in time that turned him from a sweet and loving little kid that played with his bodyguard and helped his mother cook. The images often blurred together in the past but perhaps because he’s older now, wiser and more capable of handling it; he remembered the full day and not just the horrific reality that caused his personality to do a complete about-face. Was that better or worse? To recall the terror, the pain and feeling of his heart being torn asunder was common but to remember the hours before it. Those happily filled minutes that he could not return to-- it made the agony grow in his chest as he sits there in a haze.

He’d crawled out of his bed in the middle of the night and decided to go walking, try to clear it from his mind and forget it all over again. Only one person knew the events of that day in detail. No one else in his makeshift familia knew what truly happened, he didn’t want them to know. Pity was just as bad as the knife after all. If they knew they’d perhaps view him differently, not as the capable man who would fight anything for them but as a man who lost everything because he had not been strong enough to keep it safe. (You were a child and yet you still carry that guilt.) His frame bowed and he found himself perched on a bench in the park, there just was no clearing the images from his mind. The way his mother’s face popped into his mind, the way his father’s gruff voice called for him to settle down and how he was so happy in those waking hours.

“Mamà! Mamà!” The chants of his tiny voice so early in the morning had drawn only smiles from the two parents occupying the kitchen. He’d rushed to the kitchen in a flash, eager for his morning hug and to help his mother out with the cooking. He did so every morning. Even though they were well off and had the means to hire domestic staff, they never bothered. Rosaline was a woman who made time for her family rather than having someone else cater to her child, a child that she cherished greatly. Her little deer. Cérvol was an excitable and energetic boy, always dashing here and there, playing with Romero despite the fact that the man was placed as his bodyguard. She watched him pull up his step, perch at the counter and wiggle his little fingers for a task and chuckled softly. This was simply how he’d been for years and she never tired of it.

That morning had been the same as every morning. Cérvol helped with the cooking, helped set the table and ate like he was going to starve if he didn’t practically inhale his food-- he’s a growing boy, Dominic would say. Her beloved husband wasn’t exactly known for having table manners himself either but she could only snicker at it. Cérvol had darted off after washing his dish like a bat out of hell to go and play with Romero as he always did. The boy didn’t really have many friends, he didn’t know why the other kids’ parents always told them to stay away from him but he didn’t need to understand it. He had Romero after all. The man was large, much like the rest of his familia, had a stony disposition and a scar across his eye that tended to scare people with his already stern face.

He could remember the day that happened and maybe that’s why his mother sometimes looked at him with such a wonder, maybe she was wondering if he really was as jovial as he seemed or if maybe he was putting on airs to put the worry to rest. His parents business was something he had no knowledge of, he wasn’t being groomed to be an heir but rather he was their only child and they wanted to retire from whatever it is they did when he was old enough to work to teach him another trade instead. But it was their business that results in their only son being kidnapped. Romero had gone to hell and high water to find the young master and when he had, they had threatened Cérvol’s safety. He could remember clearly the way his bodyguard and best friend had dove to snatch him up, resulting in the blow to his face. He’d cried for hours, apologizing profusely until he fell asleep at the man’s bedside.

The boy was happy again after some constant reassurance that his friend was okay and spent the next few months after making sure he was well taken care of. Now it was almost impossible to separate him from Romero’s side unless he was with his parents or at lessons. They’d play video games, go to the market for the only purpose of helping the gentle old ladies carry their things and play tag outside. It was an enjoyable morning. Just as he did every day though, he went to his lessons and paid the utmost attention to his teachers. His parents wanted him to grow up and be tactile and brilliant, to have any option in the world. He took multiple languages, mixed martial arts, finance and all the basic necessities of education. The boy never hesitated to pick up new lessons and absorb them like the little sponge he was, but he was particularly fascinated with animals and cooking.

So much so that the boy ended up having several pets that he cared for. Most of those pets being strays he and his bodyguard would pick up off the streets and bring home. His parents didn’t mind it, their son was happy and didn’t slack off. Though his father would make a disapproving face whenever he brought a reptile home, the man was not fond of those critters but he especially didn’t like geckos for some reason. All in all, it had been a normal day filled with laughter and love as it always had been. It wasn’t until nightfall that it all went up in flames. Cérvol had been sleeping when he heard the chaos that startled him out of bed. He’d always been taught to go to Romero when he heard such things and the man had immediately gone to get the boy but was stopped cold in his tracks, leaving the young kid to wander around in attempts to find him.

What he found, however, was something that he could never erase from his memory no matter how hard he tried. Red stained the alabaster carpets and he didn’t even realize the scream that had been torn from his throat. Horror filled his every bone, every nerve, every thought-- they were all there. All of them. The man who helped his mother carry things from the car, the woman who he helped tidy the house, the several men he saw often coming and going for business meetings and--- his beloved family. There were streaks across the floor as if they’d all been dragged into one area and shallow breaths filled the air. Not his own, no, he’d forgotten how to breathe in those few seconds that dragged on like hours. Silver hues shot down immediately to the trembling hand that reached out for him.

Romero was choking on something, something red and thick but Cérvol couldn’t think straight, couldn’t think of the name for it. He panicked and went to his knees in an instant, reaching forward with shaking fingers to try to turn the giant man onto his side. His teacher always said if someone was choking on liquid to turn them on their side if they’re laying down. Perhaps it was because he was shaking himself but he couldn’t tell if his friend was trembling or if he was hurting. His mind blanked, he didn’t want to see the wounds that riddled him. Run. A single word, a blood slathered smile and suddenly he found his voice. “No no, I can’! I can’ jus’ leave y’ here! Mamà.. Papà.. They’re.. I can’ find ‘em either!” A loving boy who never turned a blind eye to anything. Perhaps a stark contrast to the world his family lived in but the world he occupied nonetheless.

He scrambled to his feet, mind going a million miles an hour as he tried to figure out what he could do. What could a small child do? What could someone so frail in comparison to these fallen men do about this situation? He was panicking but he was thinking somewhat clearly enough, reaching down with trembling fingers to grab the cloth at Romero’s shoulders and try to pull him elsewhere. “C’mon! C’mon! Just a little more!” Was there truly nothing he could do? Tears continued to brim in those silver eyes and he couldn’t help the way his breath hitched as he pulled and fought with his own weakness to get his best friend into the hall at least. If he got him out of sight he would be okay, right? He had to be!

The man was proud of him.

This little master, so small and fierce, so loyal and kind-- someone who should not have been a part of this world and yet was dragged into it. They’d done everything they could to keep him out of it but it had all been for naught. Perhaps it was that thought though that pushed the man to struggle to move in that instant. Adrenaline and will, that’s all anyone could say was the cause behind the bodyguard’s movements when he saw something and reacted to grab Cérvol and ball his larger body around the younger. “Quiet.” A looming cold in the air, something lurking in the dark like a shadow you just couldn’t escape. The person behind it all was surveying his work and Romero had reacted quickly to get the boy out of sight and hopefully.. Hopefully, he would survive this. He’d never been a religious man but by the gods, he was praying to whoever would listen to him in hopes to save this little boy who’s bright smile had given him so much more than a life of blood and servitude.

“That brat... I didn’t come here to play hide and seek kid, come out already.” The grip around the small body tightened and he could hardly find it in him to move anymore. Cérvol’s entire world was shattering in that moment, being close enough to his best friend to see the wounds, to see the holes in his shoulder, the slashes in his clothes, the blood-- right. That word is blood. There was so much of it on his trembling hands as he tried to covertly cover the wounds in his tiny palms. His teeth clenched, his eyes narrowed to try to blink away the growing tears as he tried to stop this life-sustaining liquid from leaving his best friend while the man himself was trying to save the boy as well. “Its nothin’ personal kid! Come out and play with uncle!” Footsteps grew closer and closer and his entire body seemed to go still with the ice in his spine.

A loud noise rang out into the air and something hot splashed across the boy’s face, leaving him to look up with wide eyes. What happened? What had just happened? One second he felt the tight hold of his bodyguard and then the next it had loosened considerably after a loud noise that sounded like a firework. “Playtime’s over, brat.” Those words, perhaps the only words he would never forget in all of his life, struck him and he shakily looked to Romero in some lingering hope that his thoughts were wrong. That it hadn’t been gunfire that he’d heard again. “R-Rome,” the meek word left his mouth before he felt the monster grab the back of his shirt and pull him away forcefully. “No! Let go of m’!!” He screeched and thrashed, panic and fight or flight response causing him to wildly move around with all of his might before he was dropped onto the floor harshly.

His heart sank in his chest like a boulder in still water when he opened his eyes and saw where he’d been thrown. “Dear ol’ mom and dad, they fought pretty hard. Surprisingly, it was sweet momma bear who gave me the most trouble. Guess what they say is true, women turn into monsters when the prospect of their kids being in danger arises.” What were those words? He couldn’t hear them well over the ringing in his ears, couldn’t figure them out or focus on them long enough to process them. His mind was breaking down into levels, processing and falling back on instinct to survive. Get out, get out, GET OUT!! His body lurched forward and he darted for the nearest door. Every muscle in him was screaming to run, to get as far away from the monster as he possibly could but another terrified screech bellowed out of his throat when he was snatched again.

“C’mon kiddo, don’t make this any harder on me than it needs to be. I got things to do later.” How could anyone be so cold? How could anyone talk like they had a dinner to get to after all of this? He felt angry, felt like this wasn’t fair. This monstrosity didn’t deserve to be walking around so freely thinking about the rest of his day while his parents lay in their own blood and his best friend died trying to keep him safe. He thrashed enough to turn around, sharp teeth bearing down on the wrist of the man who tried to hold him in place with a fury. Feral would be one way to describe the look of the young master as those bright eyes glowered dangerously up at the monster who grunted in pain as those teeth tore into his wrist until he finally let go of him. Blood filled his mouth and he could smell smoke. “You fucking little shit, I was going to make it merciful on ya and kill you quickly but since you’re so keen on struggling till the very end, you can just roast with the rest of the trash.”

Fire had already spread throughout most of the complex and now it was starting to burn through the central part of it. He watched this monster, this man who’s face he will never forget, simply vanish through the window. The sudden influx of air only caused the flames to spread more furiously, devouring all that was in their path as the child felt that panic rise again and he immediately went to his parents. What else would he do? What else could he do? His beautiful mother, his strong father, his kind best friend-- all of them. He could only sit there, small arms picking up his mother and holding her lifeless frame against his own as the tears choked him up again. “Mamà.. Th’ monster’s gone now. Y’ can stop playing possum now..” He understood she wasn’t on some level but it was easier to believe maybe she was. Easier to hope than to face it. The smoke makes it difficult to breathe through his sobs and he chokes and coughs, tightening his grip on the world he had just hours ago.

It had been a normal, happy, day like it always was.

How had everything gone so wrong so fast? He has to get out of this home, this place where he’d played and been so safe and secure. This house that brought him happiness was collapsing and unless he wanted to go with it, he had to leave. He can barely see through the haze of smoke and fire and he thinks he doesn’t want to go at first. Thinks he can’t leave them but he recalls Romero’s attempts to save him and knows that his parents must’ve tried so hard too. How could he let their efforts be in vain? His heart feels as though its going to burst and he reluctantly lets go of his mother, staying low as his best friend taught him during their monthly fire drills. Shaking fingers meet pools of blood and he can only choke back his tears as he moves around the bodies of those he loved so dearly, trying to find the way out. There were tunnels he played in, he remembered where they were but getting to them was difficult.

Once he reached the nearest one he could only burn his palms to move the burning debris of his home from the path and climbed down into it from the remains. Everything hurts but he can’t stop, not yet. Cérvol would not scorn his family by giving up on their efforts. Even if he begins to sob again and again after getting out, even if he sits in the ashes of his family home and feels like laying down and not moving ever again. His grief soon turns to emptiness and that emptiness into rage. That monster, he needed to pay for what he’d done. He needed to suffer. That was the only thought in the young master’s mind. Days passed and he’d discovered nothing about who the man had been or why he’d done this but he would remember those eyes shrouded only by the brim of a hat.

He doesn’t recall when he fell asleep but when he came to he found himself faced with eyes similar to that of the monster’s and panic fills him at first. A man with black hair and cold eyes sat crouched across from him, a cigarette in his teeth and a look of almost concern on his face. He came with an offer. An offer that would lead him to discover many things and find out that perhaps it isn’t easy to take a life. For the longest time he was quiet and angry, snapping every time Rabbit talked and threatening to hurt him. Every time the man would only snicker and say try, when you can finally best me you’ll be ready. This small man was an oddity, he had rabbit appendages and some of his limbs came off. Cybernetics and Prosthesis he said, there was an incident that made him like this and he intended to get his due as well. In some uncanny fashion, this strange man took Cérvol in and raised him. He was taught the same lessons he learned before but with additions. Weaponry, more martial arts, more training in general to be a killer.

Or that’s what he’d thought anyways. The truth didn’t come out until he finally bested Seb, who for the longest he had thought was the one who took his family away from him. The truth was, Seb had heard about a mercenary’s job having resulted in an orphaned child and had immediately gone to take care of him after finding out which mercenary did the job. He’d purposefully approached him, had already been aware of his assumptions and had still prepared him anyways. Had still taught him everything he needed to know. Including the odd moral code he held. Never take jobs that involved civilians, never take jobs that meant to harm an innocent or someone who had done no wrong, never hurt anyone without a damn good reason and above all else: never harm children. He should have realized it when he was taught this moral code that Seb couldn’t have been the monster of his nightmares.

After that he told him the whole truth. His family’s ‘business’ was actually nothing more than a Mafia of sorts. They’d committed several crimes over the years but they’d never done any harm to the community or anyone that hadn’t shot at them first. They weren’t model citizens but they were his familia. His love, his life, his world-- and it was a competitor that hired the mercenary to take them out. To destroy everything all because of some territory dispute. When given the chance to take revenge on the true perpetrators, he couldn’t do it until he was told everything about what they’d done. Taking a life out of revenge just didn’t feel right to him but after learning of all their transgressions; he didn’t hold any hesitation any more. Seb had held off a single job for years because he knew it was the people who’d done this to this poor kid and that he deserved to face the people who’d destroyed his life.

That life.. It was gone, but he’d taken up a new one. He’d been introduced to so many people over the years that his anger had slowly died down a bit more. He’d become less volatile, less anguished. Being angry is easy, being caustic towards anything is easy but attempting to heal and be that sweet and loving person he used to be? It had become difficult. The people he’d met, the people he’d come to care for made it easier on him. Made him want to be better than who he was during that time. It wouldn’t erase the pain, it would never erase the reality of what happened and he would still suffer but as it was now? He could suffer a little less when he thought of them. Sitting in this park, staring up at nothing in particular and simply thinking about them made the muscle in his chest ease its thrashing against its ivory cage a little more.

#Bambi;#Story Development { And so you sleep with lilacs and roses } ;;#Long post //#Murder //#Blood mention //#Death //

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youarenotthewalrus · 6 years

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this article is dumb, i shouldn’t be hate-reading and you shouldn’t either but here we are so let’s do this:

We begin with a description of a platformer doing something clever and metatextual at the end. Followed by;

What this means is that the game stands in stark contrast to an industry whose products, historically speaking, rely on hijacking the reptile brains of hormone-crazed teenaged boys. In short, the history of videogames is the history of the glorification of violence.

Ah yes, who can forget such bloodthirsty products of the military-industrial complex as Pong, Tetris, Pacman or Zork?

We can debate what constitutes the first videogame, and whether it’s fair to attribute the invention of videogames to the military,

Given the contentiousness of that assertion, I should certainly hope so!

but what’s undeniable is that military engineers—ever ready to coopt, conspire with, or commission innovation from the private sector (e.g., the splitting of the atom, the invention of I.Q.)—more or less immediately recognized that videogames could be employed as a cheap substitute for teaching soldiers how to do everything from fly a plane to take out a sniper.

Kinda reductive to reduce the history of video games to FPSes in general and America’s Army in particular, doncha think?

Anyway, then we get some more waffle about how first-person shooters video games are training us to kill, before we get to the real question: given that this platformer he just finished playing did something a little artsy, can video games be art even despite the fact that were originally works of military propaganda intended to inure potential military recruits to violence? And more importantly, given that this guy seems to think the history of video games began with first person shooters, is he really qualified to answer this question?

Then we get some pointless side chatter over the claim that games are good for your brain, followed by the charge that games are addictive--despite the explicit comparison made to gambling (at “your local Native American casino,” no less), there is no discussion of lootboxes or microtransactions whatsoever, suggesting the author is not aware of specific steps which are taken to make games addictive and is just invoking vague notions of all games being addictive. None of this ever comes up again, and we promptly move back to talking about the actual game.

More specifically, Inside is what’s known as a “2D side-scroller”—meaning that you observe your figure mostly in profile in the center of your screen while a background landscape scrolling right-to-left gives the illusion of left-to-right forward motion.

Somehow, the use of the term “2D side-scroller” in quotes does not make me feel that this fellow is sufficiently familiar with video games to assess whether or not they can be art, as does the fact that he reckons that the platformer he is playing hearkens back to a 1981 shoot-em-up he remembers from his teens, which makes his apparent conviction that video games originated as first person shooters all the more baffling.

And while the world of videogames has already become a “spectator sport,” I’m unaware of any instance of the record of a videogame player’s performance becoming intellectual property, as it has in the world of chess, and in a whole array of sports. True, gamers go “professional” by attracting followers on the internet and earning ad revenue, but their play itself is not copyrighted. Games might wind up in museums (worldwide, there are at least seventeen museums dedicated to videogames), but bracketed moments of the play of particular games have not yet become value-able as art.

I invite the author to start selling unauthorized DVDs of clips from popular Twitch streamers and gaming YouTubers and see how long their lawyers allow him to entertain the notion that Let’s Plays do not constitute intellectual property.

the 2D side-scroller and its pitbull of a cousin, the first-person shooter,

???

The rest of the section is pretty unremarkable, so we move onto him complaining about lousy movie critique, then lousy video game critique, then explaining the concept of Easter eggs, then video game puzzles:

The puzzles of Limbo and Inside are more ambitious than the puzzles of most games in that their solutions often require the player to wait, or to exhibit what in psychology and education circles is known as divergent thought—for example, a corpse is a corpse, but it is also potentially a deadweight that can be used to spring a boobytrap.

Making the player wait or use an unusual object as a weight doesn’t strike me as particularly devilishly clever.

Then we get this jewel of a paragraph:

Nevertheless, puzzles themselves stand as an obstacle blocking the path of videogames’ journey from game to art. For while I might willingly suspend my disbelief long enough to accept that a boy has been tasked with jogging exhaustedly through a factory that churns out invincible blob creatures, I will find that willingness strained when I am also confronted with confounding puzzles placed in my path for no good reason. Videogames, in other words, ignore the basic tenets of internal consistency—in order to keep playing, you must suspend your disbelief, and then suspend it again, and again, and again, which means that in order to play and enjoy videogames you must also suspend the kind of critical judgment that is normally associated with art.

You heard it here, folks, accepting weird gameplay conceits means you can’t critically analyze a game.

Similarly, Easter eggs appeal only on the level of geek fetish—which is more or less the opposite of critical appreciation—and it is for this reason that I won’t address the puzzles and Easter eggs in Inside, even though they eventually lead to what some have concluded is the game’s “hidden meaning.” And this is the problem of videogames in a nutshell, because meaning in work of art is no more hidden from its beholder than the summit of a mountain is hidden from the mountain climber.

Sounds to me more like the problem is that he’s ignoring what the game itself is telling him about its plot and themes because it’s doing it in a way he finds aesthetically displeasing. I don’t know much about critical analysis but I feel like that’s not really how you should be doing it.

We then get a description of the plots of Limbo and Inside, including a decent bit of analysis marred by a bit of “murder simulator”-ism.

This is worth noting because prior to this moment the violence the boy has inflicted, either in Limbo or Inside, has been indirect—really an act of self-defense—but now the game is threatening to creep back into the usual videogame mode of affectless murder. You are given a choice: slip backward toward the wantonly horrific likes of Grand Theft Auto (1997) and Postal 2 (2003) [3] , or pause a moment and then continue on in a macabre but not morally bankrupt pursuit narrative. In this way, the player is implicated in a wryly disjointed bit of commentary on the history of gaming itself.

I mean this entirely sincerely: someone should get this guy a copy of Undertale. I think he’d enjoy it, if he could get past the idea of having to accept JRPG conventions.

Sadly, video game still aren’t art because he can list a bunch of movies that had vaguely similar elements:

From there, it’s not hard to find antecedents for Inside in both literature and film—it’s a little bit Soylent Green, a little bit Logan’s Run, a little bit The Island of Dr. Moreau, and more than a little bit Frankenstein. The imagery starts to seem familiar, too, with milieus lifted from E.T., Alien, and The Poseidon Adventure. But all this allusive flotsam becomes a bit of a disappointment, as eventually you become hard pressed to find anything in Inside that you haven’t seen inside something else.

Ezra Pound demanded that artists “make it new,” and Marcel Proust insisted that a writer is someone who invents a voice as unique as his or her fingerprint, but Inside isn’t even really trying to tell a story that hasn’t been told before. That’s a problem. Art cannot be made up wholly of references to other art. Star Wars, for example, does not come close to art because at its core it is nothing more than a pre-fab mash-up of archetypes mail-ordered from the IKEA superstore of Joseph Campbell.

I mean... why can’t art be composed solely of references to other art? Why can the whole not be more than the sum of its parts? If I take a picture of the Mona Lisa and photoshop a photo of a can of soup over her head, the resulting work is distinct from either of the originals, even though I provided no original content except the idea of sticking the two together.

Put another way, Inside could only have been designed by someone who hasn’t read Roland Barthes’s “The Death of the Author,” and hasn’t read Walter Benjamin’s “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,” and hasn’t read T.S. Eliot’s “Tradition and the Individual Talent”—someone who hasn’t, in other words, engaged theoretically with what art is. And that, in turn, leads to the simple conclusion that on the level of its plot Inside is not trying to do what art does.

Good god this guy is snobbish.

Second, there’s still the meta-twist to consider: perhaps Inside is a game with both a text and a subtext. And perhaps a subtext can help the videogame industry evolve beyond the hyperviolence that is its womb and its crutch.

“Hyperviolent” is not exactly how I would describe Breakout or Super Mario Bros. Anyway, he then ponders the potential meaning of the evil scientists at the end of the game being stand-ins for the developers, and comes to the conclusion that...

The problem of games today is that their creators have not imagined any purpose for them greater than fun. There are exceptions to this, of course, but for the most part games equate escape with distraction—to be distracted is to be entertained, and it is good to be entertained.

Unlike the rest of popular media, of course.

The obligation of art, as Henry James described it, is to be interesting, and if you’re paying attention, that is to say, if you’re trying for more than distraction, then Inside begins to be interesting with its name, which stands in stark contrast to games like Call of Duty: Infinite Warfare and Grand Theft Auto: Vice City.

I too enjoy criticizing games for being superficial based on their titles.

Then we get some final analysis, a quote from a Raymond Carver short story I read in high school and remember mostly as something my friends in English class found homoerotic subtext in, and the claim that the goal of art is a feeling of transcendental bliss:

The much remarked-upon narrator of Raymond Carver’s classic short story, “Cathedral,” experiences such a moment as the story climaxes with a blind man helping him draw a church. “My eyes were still closed,” the narrator says. “I was in my house. I knew that. But I didn��t feel like I was inside anything.”

At its most ambitious, Inside aspires to a similar feeling. Escape in art that is not transcendence is cheap, and if you can climb beyond the foolish puzzles and the Easter eggs and the hidden meanings, you can feel, for a moment, that you are not alone on your sofa with your phone, playing a game; rather, you are somewhere else—somewhere grassy, bathed in warmth by a ray of sunlight falling from above.

And that’s nice and all but it feels like he didn’t really lead up to it.

Anyway, I spent way too much time picking through this but here we go. Final rating: 2/10, the next time you want to know if video games are art yet ask someone who actually plays them.

#idle musings #long post

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secretradiobrooklyn · 4 years

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SECRET RADIO | 10.3.20 & 10.10.20 Combo

Secret Radio | 10.3 & 10.10 | Hear it here.

Liner notes by Evan except *, artwork by Paige

1. The Modern Lovers - “Roadrunner”

Can there be, can there ever be, a better hittin’ the road song than this? Not to me, not to us. “I’m in love with modern moonlight… I’m in love with the radio on” This song brings everything that makes rock so fundamentally exciting: the straightforward beat, electric guitars, electric keys, that sense of complete freedom with your gang in the backseat singing the chorus.

2. Swell Maps - “Full Moon In My Pocket”

It pains me to admit that I cannot remember the name of the pasteup guy at the Rocket who used to tell me about the bands he loved, and that he thought I’d dig. I was so, SO into Pavement at the time, head over heels, and he did a great job of acquainting me with some of their precedents, handing off tape comps with songs from Young Marble Giants, Au Pairs, Swell Maps, and so much more. One of the tapes had this song, in two versions actually: this one, and an a cappella version, which sounds very poncey except it was the same take as this, bouncing with reverb and attitude. On our long drive from the woods to the city, a full moon hung in front of us like a carrot on a stick, and I started singing this song before I even realized it. Whatever the name of that super-awesome pasteup guy (Tom? I feel like it was Tom), I just want to tell him: I’m sorry, I’ve always been bad at remembering names, but I’ve never forgotten those tapes. Thank you.

3. Assa Cica - “Yokpo Wa Non Kpo Hami”

When we were first getting into Beninese rock, it was Antoine Dougbé who pulled us down the rabbit hole. I figured we couldn’t be alone — his songs are the standouts on “Legends of Benin.” But there’s practically nothing to be found. I eventually found myself at Discogs, marveling at the sheer number of names that T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo went by and sifting through music looking for signs of Dougbé. I eventually found this album, and not just the voice but the whole style of the band convinced me that Assa-Cica was somehow another name Dougbé went by. After some discussion, Paige and I bought our first Beninese record. In the weeks that it took to arrive, we learned a lot more about Dougbé, including the fact that he’s not actually the singer on those songs! But also I don’t think Assa-Cica is the singer on this song either! We did turn out to love every song on this record, but this one is my personal favorite, just a barnburner with disco roots. Every time I listen to it I try to imagine the cultural and personal forces that brought it into being, and it only gets more absorbing.

4. Eko Roosevelt - “Me To A De Try My Own”

T.P. Orchestre research also brought me to an album they did with Betti-Betti (or Beti-Beti), a Cameroonian singer whose tracks eventually led to Eko Roosevelt. I don’t get down with all of the music of his that I’ve heard, but this one just brings a smile to my face every time. I love the patois he sings in, where recognizable words rise suddenly out of the bubbling disco bass and the good-natured horn sections. I would never have guessed that hunting for African voodoo funk would eventually reveal a path to appreciating disco… but I’m glad that it has. I mean, I spent whole years of my life thinking that horns had no place in rock music, so what the hell do I know?

5. Jacqueline Taïeb - “Le coeur au bout des doigts”

6. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo - “Non Gbeto Do Mahu Tche”

This 7” is from that rich early period of T.P. Orchestre (this one is I think from ’72) where the arrangements are hand-drum heavy but the organ and guitar are funk. The vocal is — I don’t know what it is, it’s a genre I hadn’t heard until I heard this band in this period.

7. Los Wembler’s de Iquitos - “Llanto en la Selva”

8. Iggy Pop “The Passenger”*

I’ve always thought this was one of Iggy Pop’s finest outside of his work with Stooges. I think I also always liked it because I am most often the passenger. I really really don’t like driving. I really avoid it. I have a driver’s license but boy do I not like to use it. There aren’t really a lot of songs about riding in the passenger seat that are positive or cool that I can think of besides this one and Art Brut’s “I Love Public Transportation”.

This album also makes me think of Shena’s old place on Damen Ave. in Wicker Park Chicago. This record and of course Bowie’s “Let’s Dance”.

Hope you had a great birthday Shena!

9. Jacques Dutronc - “Les Gens Sont Flous”

The things that gets me about the song are: that single bass note that plunges every time in the verse, the shaker in the chorus, and that freakin triangle hit that happens on the coolest possible beat throughout the entire song. I fully intend to lift that idea into another song if I can find the right spot for it.

10. Jimi Hendrix - “Third Stone From The Sun”

This goes down as one of the greatest rock recordings in history. Every time I swoon at the guitar phrases, the bass line, the drums, the weird low chaos of his slowed down vocals. Truly a masterpiece, capped off by the final minute of beautiful noise that sounds like planets in motion.

11. Björk Gu∂mundsdóttir and tríó Guðmundar Ingólfssonar - Gling-Gló - “Bella Simamaer”

12. Ayalew Mesfin - “Gedawo (The Hero)”

The first 20 seconds of this song are crucial, because it establishes the 4/4 rhythm that’s coursing under the 3/4 handclap. That is such a killer rhythmic feel I can hardly stand it. I only wish they’d pull out the handclap in the middle, just for a handful of measures, and then bring em in again. Meanwhile, Mesfin’s vocal approach is so intense!

Entr’Acte - “Phantom of the Opera Entr’Acte”*

We figured we needed an Entr’Acte to denote the change in vibe from trying to stay alert and amped on the turnpike to being back home in Brooklyn. Half of this broadcast was made in the front seat of the van on our drive back to NY after our recent visit to the Midwest where we stayed in the woods the majority of the time with a couple of runs to St. Louis to pick up Banh Mi So and tofu Laap.

Evan and I have this thing we call “Disney Reptile Brain” but before that I should explain, Evan and I have this other thing we call “different high schools.” We have an age difference that we mostly don’t notice but every now and then there will be some cultural touchstone and one of us is like “What!? You don’t remember that!?” and we’re like “Ahh, different high schools!” So something like, the year 1994, Evan might remember it as when Kurt Cobain died, and I’ll remember it as the year “The Lion King” came out.

So, Evan missed all the of the major releases by Disney from that time – Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Lion King, etc. – and thus he can see how ridiculously bad these remakes are in a way that I can’t. He says that you have to “Disney Reptile brain” to fully see the movie, that you have to have the animated version playing in your mind’s eye at the same time you're watching these “live action” remakes or they don’t make any sense. And it’s true, for me and lots of other people I know born between 1984 and 1990 we experience this when watching these films, like you already know it so well and know what’s going to happen it’s more like some sort of ritual, incantation, or reenactment of a feeling.

So, that’s Disney Reptile Brain. And if you’re like, wait, but this is Phantom of the Opera and that’s not Disney. You’re right, but it turns out Reptile Brain is a thing that can happen with musicals and ALW stuff is perfect for it. (Evita! Evita!) I am helpless when I hear this music which I got into around the same time that I was devouring Disney VHS, even though I hear it now and it’s SO. SILLY. But when I hear this melody, I’m like right there, on the boat with Christine and the Phantom. I’m like a cat picked up by the scruff and I’m just completely engrossed and I can’t unlearn that feeling. If you’ve seen Phantom at all recently, it is straight up hilarious kid stuff, like how it starts with an auction of lot #666, and the phantom is like this super moody broody guy who writes passive aggressive notes to everyone. I now can hear it as so funny and so square, but what you’re hearing on this track is my reptile brain in full effect.

Next time this music comes around, we’ll get into how Christine is Professor X and Magnito is the Phantom...

14. Sunny Blacks Band - “Holonon Die”

Ha! I said plenty about this song on air. Suffice it to say I’ve been getting obsessed with Meloclém and his performances. It’s really hard to find out anything about him, so this early track makes me really happy. I think this is sung in Fon.

15. Yo La Tengo - “False Alarm”

Alongside “Third Stone from the Sun,” another of my all-time favorite recordings ever. Yo La Tengo was a key protein in learning about rock music, starting with the album “Painful” and hitting a peak not just on this album but specifically this song. Alongside a vivid memory of Sean N., I helplessly air-keyboard to it, air-drum to it, dance my face off. By that final phrase I’m all worn out.

16. Meas Samon & So Savoeun - Hits Collection

We don’t really know anything about this song, including its title. It’s from a cassette called “Hits Collection.” We know Meas Samon from other sources, but I have no idea what they’re talking about and what is happening in this song, though I will say the tape warping on the entire fabric of the track is absolutely delicious.

17. Syna So Pro - “Fengyang Song”

I feel so proud of Syna So Pro and St. Louis introducing this track. The first time we saw her perform this song was live at El Leñador, and it was a knockout. She (they?) used a looping pedal situation to build this huge harmonic structure in real time. I believe she may be studying Chinese, but I know she’s studying Chinese music. There’s this and one other amazing Chinese song in addition to her many songs in English on her album “Vox.”

Nino Rota

18. Fela Kuti - “Open & Close”

I would listen to this whole song just for the Tony Allen solo in the early middle — but I also love how the song is so long that even a solo as particular as that one gets swallowed back up into the totality of the track (though he has many amazing passages throughout). The emotional equilibrium of the horns is cautiously optimistic. And I find myself thinking about the passage that goes “Let me tell you a story: open and close,” and how “open and close” is a narrative in action right there in three words. What was open has closed. It’s clearly a big change, a serious shift. Once open, now closed. Why? What changes as a result? Did anyone get hurt in the closing?

19. France Gall - “Celui Que J’aime”*

In the theme of “songs that got away” (see “Muxima”) this is one that I was thrilled to find again! I heard it on Jeff Hess’s show on KDHX many years ago. It set me on a France Gall odyssey. I bought albums and collections, and none of them had this song. I think her tone is probably my favorite female vocal tone, and she’s also one of my favorite singers in her delivery. This one is very different than some of the other stuff I associate with her but I think it’s still my favorite of hers.

20. Ely - “As Turbinas Estao Ligadas”

Now Again Records put out a collection called “Brazilian Guitar Fuzz Bananas” and it’s got as much tone as the title boasts. Credit due to “vinyl archaeologist” Joel Stones for tracking down songs like these and putting them within reach. This is one among several favorites and a true hit.

21. Tulia - “Pali się (Fire of Love)”

Speaking of true hits: welcome to the world of EuroVision, where music is a medium for international competition. This song is Poland’s entry for 2019. We spent an amazing week with our friends Phil and Archie driving between Cambridgeshire and London singing along with all of the finalists of that year’s competition. It’s a fascinating idea, this vote-based international struggle turning into a final victor that somehow expresses the zeitgeist of ALL OF THOSE COUNTRIES TOGETHER — because it’s not just Europe, it’s Israel and Australia. Also amazing is that this isn’t just some scheme cooked up in the reality TV era: this has been going on for decades. In fact, France Gall was the EuroVision winner in 1965 — for Luxembourg!

22. Luigi Tenco - “Ciao Amore Ciao”

Likewise, this song was in international competition. It was sung by Egyptian-born French superstar Dalida. We saw an eponymous movie about her at the St. Louis International Film Festival in 2017 and she was a completely engrossing character. I’m not totally sold on this song as she sings it — but I love Luigi Tenco’s version. And man what a looker! He died young by his own hand, and she died too young by her own hand, and that is about as French as it gets.

23. Marijata - “I Walk Alone”

“This Is Marijata” is the sound of Ghana in 1976. I was talking about Marijata with Josh Weinstein recently, and he reminded me of this song and how much I dig it. It’s got that slow burn organ in the background, the slightly clumsy percussion in the foreground, those freighted vocals — but when it gets to the chorus, as the organ hook gives way to the horn hook, that’s when it truly hits its stride. And by the time we disappear into the fadeout, it has become fully epic.

24. Lijadu Sisters - “Life’s Gone Down Low”

To my ears it really feels like this song could have been released this year, rather than in 1976. What the hell was going on in West Africa that year? I feel like we could put together a great mix of songs just from that single year from Nigeria, Ghana, Benin and Ivory Coast. The Lijadu Sisters (Taiwo and Kehinde, actual identical twins) put out their first album in 1969; by their third album, “Danger,” the source of this song, they were huge stars in Nigeria and played with Ginger Baker, Art Blakey, and so on. They eventually moved to Harlem and lived together their whole lives, until Kehinde passed a little less than a year ago.

25. Os Kiezos - “Muxima”*

As mentioned, I heard this song in a video work by Alfredo Jaar at the Art Institute of Chicago. You can read about the piece here. I learned that “Muxima” is an Angolan folk song and in the video of the same title there are, I believe, 5 different versions of the song. One particular one – the one that pulled me into the room where the video was playing on loop – was a gorgeous vocal arrangement. I even tried shazaming it. No dice. So I wrote it down and started looking for the song, the particular arrangement. I bought a collection of Angolan music because I saw the song on it. That’s the one you heard on this broadcast and it is a recording that I now really love. I periodically keep looking for other versions of the song, hoping I’ll come across that missing version though. I thought I got close this week when I found Duo Ouro Negro’s version. (Worth checking out!) That one from the video though, still haunts me! It’s been 9 years now, I wonder if I would recognize it but I think I would. I guess the next thing I can try is a shot in the dark email to Alfredo Jaar. This is and one other song share the top spot of “songs that got away” the other one is some beautiful song that was coming from a small radio from a group of old Puerto Rican guys who were playing cards on the sidewalk on South 3rd street in Williamsburg. We were touring through and staying with our friend in that neighborhood and as we were moving the van I heard this beautiful song coming off the sidewalk. Those guys had great taste.

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lizardswithoutlegs · 7 years

Text

HOOOOOWOWOAH BOY

ART ASKS

when i walk into a building i get to eat everybodys pencils and they cant say no

do it

( also thanks for asking ! )

itd bother me a lot less if everybody came to my apartment and took one of these beautiful eggs

YEAH UNFORTUNATELY IM STILL..... WORKING THROUGH THE SAME WAITLIST but im comparatively REAL CLOSE to being done with it and i should be opening up sometime later in...... the Year

Boy Have I

theres This messy thing from a while back and then also

THIS, from even FURTHER back, when i didnt realize how fucking RED all the outlines on my things were because of the monitor i was using, two for the price of one

why not both

i do Not but it you ever see me walking on the street please throw handfuls of teeth at me theyre the only things my wretched body can digest and im always hungry

OH MAN ok so, an art telephone game is based on, of course, the game telephone, where one person says a phrase and then whispers it to the next person, and so on and on until the person at the very end says whatever they heard and if its done right the final sentence is wildly different than what you started with

an ART telephone game is the same kind of concept, except one person draws out a scene or character, and then other artists draw THEIR interpretation of whats going on, and so forth until the last person can end up with something COMPLETELY different than what the first scene was

youd think thered be less room for error with drawings, but as each person ONLY sees what the person ahead of them has made, they can get PRETTY OUT THERE - im gonna be a part of pythosarts game, and theyve done a couple of em before - for example one round started with THESE as the first two drawings

and then fourteen interpretations later, ended up with these as the final two

its good its real good

I Cant Control Where Bigfoot Goes, I Can Only Take Note Of Where Hes Been

YEAH, sort of ! on the main, iguanamouth, i have a bunch of different tags for art depending on what they are but not really a catchall one, BUT i do have an art only blog where everything gets tossed over !

HONESTLY THE ADVICE i got is basically what all art advice is gonna boil down to eventually - you gotta just. do it. you gotta DO it

absolutely nobody you know who draws things well started out at the level theyre currently at, and putting down the things youre visualizing onto paper is a combination of getting the the technical aspects down as much as getting the idea in your head

and that goes with figuring out anatomy and how bodies are put together ! ive got to use references for a Million things,. especially the dragon hoards - theres absolutely nothing wrong with using references for your drawings ! and being able to create accurate representations of things without looking is something that comes more with drawing something over and over and memorizing the body shape more than just, feeling like you should KNOW how to do something

so dont beat yourself up for needing references. if youre trying to shy away from them a little bit but still cant make something look nice without em, try using several different reference photos to put together an entirely different pose ?

theres ALSO the SHRIMP METHOD, which is great for practicing and getting good at one particular thing - this probably isnt SUPER HELPFUL but good luck !

god i tried. exactly ONCE maybe fourish years ago but it wasnt art, i was trying to stream the lion king movie and i had no idea what i was doing, i didnt realize i needed to wear headphones so the sound wouldnt snowball into a feedback loop of my own voice that never ended but i kept laughing and it kept distorting worse and worse, like the audio version of saving and resaving something as a jpeg

it was just me and my friend ronni in the stream and ONE other person who never left and never said anything and i kept addressing them out loud like WHO ARE YOU and that only compounded the noise problem and eventually i gave up

anyway i havent tried since

i uhhhhh dont think i COULD, really - fear especially is something thats kind of subjective and one persons Big Terror could be neutral or even cute to another person

like for me i used to have a lot of childhood fears about the ocean, and how deep and dark and vast it was, to the point where i couldnt play a lot of water levels in video games, even ( but i had almost drowned several times when i was Very young which probably had, a little somethin to do with that )

maybe sometime ill try to explore things IM afraid of, but its hard to encompass a psychological response in an image !! could be a fun experiment, though ! !

a few PLANT ANIMAL AZKZ, HUH, DONT HAVE A WORKING Z KEY

SHIT DUDE THESE ARE... SO GOOD thats the official name EVEN IF i didnt use. a daffodil as the flower base. it doesnt matter

yes

i got A BUNCH of flower and plant themed suggestions and theyre all REALLY GOOD ( way more than these ) but straight up im taking a break from em for a while - if anybody is else is reading this though you should definitely tackle one of em

WASABI ASKS

Do Not Feed Animals The Paste

i keep going back to read this ask because you could replace wasabi with my name and its the exact same. its the same. i feel like i have to hide somewhere

this was real and this is the award they gave us

there were other awards but the judges refused to give them out. they burned them in front of the other dogs. we won

it depends on the age ! wasabis pretty much an adult, so her sheds are pretty infrequent ( usually once every 7-8 months ) BUT when she was still growing back like 6 years ago, she would do a full-body shed every other month !

wasabi accepts tokens of appreciation in the form of : fruit, green beans. No Exceptions

i would never seperate wasabi from her hands

absolutely..... not. not even a little bit h h hh a this isnt a disney animal companion, i dont even know what “kind of like a dog” means with , a lizard who cant make any vocalizations or get up on their hind legs or NOTHIN sometimes if i hold a piece of fruit on my hand and she reaches for it she gets confused on whats what and tries to bite my fingers instead

ONCE WHEN SHE was attacking her reflection in a mirror i put my hand in front of her face to break eye contact and she SUNK HER TEETH RIGHT IN THERE but immediately let go like “oh whoops”

lissten . . . wasabi is so sharp, just absolutely everywhere, and these are the sharpest. the grabbers

heres a lil battle damage from earlier today actually

this is pretty tame BUT the long long lines are from claws, and the thinner, closer together ones are from holding her and her scales scraping against the skin. so not even just the Body is completely safe ! this is not an animal youre gonna wanna get your face real close to if theyre in a walkin mood

she doesnt even MEAN to scratch the shit outta me, its just kind of a byproduct of being a big tree lizard. her tail is absolutely the worst thing to get hit by though. the WORST. lucky me she doesnt attack anything that isnt a dog or a vacuum cleaner or her own reflection

ahhh i got her when i was 16 ! and i dont know her exact age but she was somewhere between 3-6 months when i get her - SHES probably closer to 9 years, but ive had her for about 8

LENGTH THOUGH...... the last time i measured her she was just barely under four and a half feet, but that was a few months ago and its possible shes. Just Slightly larger. shes currently sleeping as i type this so i guess we will never know

duel me

too late for coats..... its all tail action now

ROCK ASKS AND ALSO ASKS ABOUT PUTTING ROCKS IN YOUR MOUTH

oh MAN i feel you . . . . . . . . . . i dont think i could actually Bear To Eat any for real but some of em. just. they. i gotta. just. bite on em a LITTLE just a little bit, a tiny bit, a nibble

when i was real young i used to tap things against my teeth to tell what kind of substance they were made of based on the feeling/hardness/density WHATEVER and i still sometimes do it when im checking stuff out and. it uhhhhh sure is interesting finding out not a lot of people did that

a handful of these delicious raw agates, just for you

please stop spying on me

i DO NOT but you may eat this piece of bornite

meet me at the airport and ill cover your bus fair

theres a lotta different ways to figure out what kind of rocks you got but when you have absolutely no clue on where to start your best bet is to search for the biggest distinctive features of it, and try to narrow it down based on the results

like for something like these pieces of chalcedony, you could try “waxy green translucent mineral”, and from the search results find a few candidates that might be what you have on hand, and then look into each one to see if you can get a definite answer

ive got a handful of rock and mineral guide books that i always pick through whenever i snag something im not sure of, and if youre REAL into it those are always something you could start keeping an eye out for

now this is a REAL superficial way to telling what something is and wont be useful for a good chunk of minerals ( as a lot of samples can look really close to something else ) and THIS is a much more in depth way of telling something apart, but its also a lot more time consuming ! so good luck. and good eating.

Just Try And Fucking Stop Me

ANIMAL ASKS THAT ARENT............ ABOUT MY LIZARD

im married to this one actually

fuck. ok. heres. a secret. a In the ask Post secret. wasabi goes through a period that lasts a month every single year where she carries eggs in her gut, and spends that month not eating and digging around in everything, trying to find the right spot to lay these eggs. and. when it happens i never know what to do with them, and i dont want to just THROW THEM AWAY so i. eat them. i eat the eggs. i fuckin eat the eggs dude

Theyre All Goddesses

unless you plan on having your lizard roam around outside whenever they want, the outside environment doesnt really matter much for most reptiles as long as you set their habitat up right ! BUT i do know that australia has bans on certain reptiles ( iguanas are one of them ) and so youre gonna have to look up whats actually available in that area

bearded dragons are native and those are always a good option, but so are a lot of geckos - its really gonna depend on what youre into ( but i dont really recommend anoles if thats an option, because theyre fast as Hell and dont like being handled )

what the fuck is a bee

oh geez im sorry ! i remember going through this with spiders a lot when i was younger to the point where looking at photos of em used to be a fuckin, TRIAL

you could try a really gradual exposure deal, where you start off with getting comfortable with just images, and slowly working your way to dealing with one in a controlled setting ( like a petstore, maybe ? not HANDLING em or anything, but just being near one in a way where its absolutely impossible for them to touch you )

the shitty thing about this kind of phobia is that even if you KNOW its irrational theres sometimes not a lot you can do about it, but if you can stand looking at photos of them you could try learning up about them, and finding out the types of species youre likely to encounter around your house, and seeing how many ( if any ) are ones you should avoid ?

i know some people that have major problems with snakes are because theyre unsure if the ones they find are poisonous or not, and it might go a long way to confirm that the reptiles you meet wont be able to harm you even if they TRIED ( which is gonna be the case with a lotta house geckos, they cant do SHIT youre a GIANT )

very VERY few lizards have venomous bites, and the worst most of em can do is give you a bloody finger if theyre large enough, and even then its usually not much worse than a cat scratch !

still though, if youre really serious about trying to get past this, dont force yourself too quick into what you think you SHOULD be, and take tiny steps outta your comfort level when you can

this probably isnt uhhh SUPER helpful hh hhah but good luck ! shit im going through this post and its like ALL reptile photos. im sorry

i feel about them, with my hands

MMM it shouldnt HURT them unless theres something Really wrong, considering its a natural procession of growth, BUT its definitely itchy as hell, to the point where reptiles trying to remove it will drag their bodies over stones or walls tryin to get it off

sometimes wasabi drags her whole hind foot over her head like a dog to get it off and it is. a Sight

ahhh honestly there arent a lotta reptiles thatre gonna do much more than TOLERATE the touch and not really, enjoy it, like a dog or cat or bird

but speaking from experience with wasabi, youll probably want to avoid most the head and stick with the top of the back near the sides - wasabi doesnt enjoy having her tail messed with much either, but shes ok with her dewlap and feet being touched

the most important thing to keep an eye out for when youre touching one is their body language, because THATS gonna be a dead giveaway for whether you need to back off or not

closing their eyes is a sign of stress, not enjoyment ! same with tilting the head back, but if thats ALL theyre doing then youre probably not gonna face any retaliation

B U T if theyve got an extended dewlap with a raised body or tail off the ground, not a good idea to interact with em ! thats a defensive posture, and you risk getting hit with a tail or even bitten if your hand gets too close

youve got more to risk with males, who are way more territorial and generally larger, but if they seem pretty chill when you approach and dont stand up and stare at you, youre probably in the clear

COCK of the ROCK

I HAVE im so jealous of anybody whos got to see one in person - actually handling one is a level beyond that which i could even comprehend

OTHER THINGS.....

no but i was bit by a pigeon once

this is the only joke i know

i fuckin WISH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ayy im into it - honestly i havent been following the band so much as just kinda, picking up whatever anybody else mentions and so my knowledge on Gorillaz Lore is pretty uhhhh h hh h scattered but im definitely interested in seeing where this goes

i remember watching the first and second season and it being pretty good - some of the episodes and jokes are hit and miss but you absolutely got me with the creature and alien design

havent seen any of the third season yet though !

i mean the fruit ones could be pretty up there

how bout. an abstract concept. who cares about physical forms wheres the dragon of melancholy

why come theres nothing to eat in my apartment but bread. im good otherwise but its all just bread

i havent watched either of em in YEARS and YEARS but i distinctly remember. these lil dancing mushrooms

oh wait FUCK

FUCK !!!!!!!!!

no... NO.... she is not allowed to eat ANYTHING from the plan shelf, try as she MIGHT

im a little mad that this sill isnt bigger because the only other one that gets sun is in my room and wasabi WIll... absolutely eat those. no doubt. a convenient and expensive salad, for my awful gremlin

god im looking at these and its all jade plants isnt it

little golden books taste the best but they can make you sick if you have too many at once. my favorite genre for snacking is sci fi fantasy but anything over 300 pages tends to get a little tough if you dont break it up with smaller chunks. non fictions always a gamble because the taste is wildly different each time but you can usually tell how ripe it is by the cover color

ayy im already a big fan of some of their stuff, ive got a couple songs from them in my music tag - im especially into i miss you and their shut up and bring it here remix

TOP FIVE THINGS

this is barely related but once i filled up a bathtub with water and then dumped about ten bags worth of mint tea into it and then just. soaked around in the tea. listen it was really nice. id try the cheese

i dont have any ships but i was on one of those model pirate boats once for a school trip. our boat was named naruto and the other one was named sasuke and the captains shouted “make them kiss” and ran them into each other. everybody on board drowned

youre trying to trick me into googling yoshi without shoes and its not going to work

me reading this message from the safety of my apartment :

nice try, but wrong again ! : )

THIS IS GOOD info, thank you

oh SHIT the other side of paradise, take a slice, life itself, and season 2 episode 3 are all my Big Faves

the way you phrased this makes me think you already have a strong opinion on it

hey uh. coming from a person who was absolutely CONVINCED that theyd be dead in the future when they were 12, a not insignificant part of that was me feeling that there was something irreversibly wrong with me for not behaving or acting in certain ways based on what was going downstairs

and obviously im still HERE but it means i can understand how devastatingly terrible it can feel when youre that young and it seems like the way you behave and feel are flawed, or dirty, and anything that can lessen that feeling and make you comfortable in your own body is huge, can save your life

not that im saying its always a LIFE OR DEATH decision !

i guess if youre viewing it as adults forcing a child into making decisions that you dont think theyre capable of understanding its easy to be hesitant about getting behind it, but nobody is forcing a child to be trans. nobody has tricked them into feeling this way. you cant just walk in and get started on treatment on an immediate whim - some programs require 2 YEARS of concrete evidence before theyll even consider it

i feel like you should try speaking to the parents of trans children before you really put down a concrete opinion on whether this is a good or bad thing, and seeing the difference ( if any ) its made in their lives

people whove detransitioned, or found they had ultimately a different identity than the one they were exploring could also be an avenue to look intto ! i have several acquaintances who, after a period of years, found they werent trans but wouldnt take back the time where they were figuring out if they were, and i know this doesnt invalidate the friends i have who ARE

ultimately this is what it boils down to for me : Its Sure Gotta Beat Being Dead

i WILL give you that ive definitely seen a lot of overreactions to seemingly innocuous topics on this website

but youve also got to keep in mind that everybody who is saying these things MEANS them, and to them theres a completely reasonable explanation to why they feel that way

im not saying you should blindly accept any criticism you get, but to instead try to get a grasp on WHY theyre responding the way they are instead of immediately dismissing it

its because i cant drive and they wont let me sit in the front on account of the smell

NICE THINGS

AHHHH I GOT.. a bunch of other really sweet messages to the point where id feel weird about putting em ALL UP BUT... IF YOU SENT ME SOMETHING i can promise i absolutely saw it and it made my day better and just, holy shit, thank you for taking time out of your life to say anything to me at all

because you didnt have to, even a little bit

youre all beautiful and im kissing you on the mouths all at once. no take backs

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