#talks about skoo

[inkstaindusk]

Remember that reddit post about the guy who keeps getting into fights with the cook at waffle house? Ok that but joecherry, as witnessed by respective apprentices Langa and Reki

Reki likes Sia la Luce. It's pretty fancy, but he has to wear a kimono during his apprenticeship anyway so he never sticks out too badly. The food is really good--he never had Italian before he started coming here--the employees are all nice people, and the atmosphere is usually pleasant. Usually. The only exception being...

"You must have lost whatever smidgen of skill you had to your oversized muscles!"

"Clearly your tastebuds need to be checked as much as your eyes, damn four-eyes!"

Reki chews slowly on his pasta as his teacher and the head chef Nanjou argue over the counter. Again. Like they do every time they eat here. There's never anything wrong with the food in his opinion, but Cherry--Kaoru-sensei in public, he's reminded him countless times--always seems to have some problem. He can't tell if this is bad flirting or what. Mostly, it's just kind of weird and disruptive.

One of the junior chefs, Langa, slides into the seat across from him, also glancing at the fight. "Um, your food isn't that bad... right?" he asks hesitantly.

Reki shakes his head wildly. "No, the food's great! Awesome, even!"

Langa sighs with relief. "I made your meal today, so thank you. I'm glad you like it."

Reki nearly chokes on his next bite, but manages to swallow it down, hopefully without being too obvious about it. It shouldn't be a big thing. Of course one of the chefs would have made his food; it doesn't have to be the head chef. But Reki has had a crush on Langa ever since he saw him the first time Cherry took him here and he can't help getting his hopes up that maybe this means something. Maybe. Possibly.

The food suddenly tastes a whole lot better now. How about that?

"Y-you're a really good cook, Langa!" Reki stammers. "Thanks for the meal!"

Before Langa can say anything else, the argument kicks up a bit and there's a choking sound. When Reki looks to the side, Cherry is trying to strangle Nanjou with the collar of his tight shirt. A few patrons actually look over this time and in the blink of an eye, they've fixed their appearance as though nothing happened.

"Man," says Reki, "they have way too much practice with that."

Langa nods. "Mm. They're childhood friends, so it makes sense."

"They're what?!"

Langa tilts his head at him. "Sakurayashiki-san hasn't told you? They grew up together."

Cherry did not tell him this. Any time he tried to ask about why they keep coming here Cherry just gave him a scary look and said Oh so you don't want me to pay for your lunch anymore? Reki values his life, wallet, and future prospects, so he stopped pestering. Eventually.

"You know, that makes sense," he says thoughtfully. "Ch--Kaoru-sensei wouldn't just fight with anyone." With no one looking at them, except for Reki and Langa, Cherry and Nanjou have gone back to their hissed argument. It's starting to look a lot more like weird flirting now. He kind of doesn't want to keep watching anymore.

Reki looks back at Langa. "Hey wait, what are you doing out here anyway? I thought you weren't allowed to be a server."

"Nanjou-san said it's okay if it's you. I'm 'better at smiling' when I'm with you." As though to prove his boss's point, Langa smiles.

Reki ducks his head, hiding his own smile behind his food.

(By the counter, the argument continues:

"Now look what you've done! Your employee is slacking to flirt with my apprentice!"

"How is that my fault? Is your AI heart too mechanical to appreciate young love?"

"Not when they're on the clock!"

"And what do you think we're doing right now?")

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #matchablossom #joecherry #kojiro nanjo #kaoru sakurayashiki #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #renga #talks about skoo #anya tries to write #drabbles #fp.txt

[deltaengineering]

that was the winter anime 2021 that was

Still not quite ready for a dozen posts about how terrible the likes of Combatants Will Be Dispatched are, sorry. Watch Vivy though, it owns. Here’s some more things that are (mostly) good. As always, worst to best.

Yatogame-chan Kansatsu Nikki S3

Yatogame has long run out of hot Nagoya facts and its ensemble comedy never amounted to much, so now it seems mostly content to just spam more and more wacky character designs. About the only thing that it has left going for it is that 3 minutes a week are more effort to drop than to watch, so I expect them to make a movie next. 4/10

Go-toubun no Hanayome S2

Quints is a weird one. S1 was a barely good enough (i.e., well above average) implementation of the ages old harem chestnut. S2 is actually better at the core of its appeal, since it gives all the characters a sharper profile (things like taking Nino from joke to badass and making Ichika a villain are no mean feat), but it does pay a steep price for it. You see, to deliver a steady drip feed of meaningful character moments it apparently has to rush through the source material at a breakneck pace, which completely wrecks the "story" part of this story and makes every episode seem like a recap. And it still keeps wasting precious time on vestigial nonsense like its framing device and the Kyoto flashback scenario that was already the worst part of S1. But by far the most annoying aspect is its insistence on keeping all the options valid, since it prevents any real progress and makes everything seem arbitrary and pointless. So sure enough, after a season of much ado we still don't end up anywhere — you can't really raise the stakes if all at stake was "who wins" to begin with. It's watchable and even enjoyable scene-for-scene but it's getting harder and harder to call it a solid show overall. 5/10

Skate Leading Stars

I was watching this primarily because I didn't like Yuri on Ice much and wanted to see if something that is a blatant attempt to cash in on it would be better — because while YoI delivers on one aspect (being hella gay), it really is an absolute shambles of a sports show. And sure enough, Skate Leading has none of the auteur appeal of YoI, but it just works much better. In particular I appreciate how it managed to make me care even a little about a cast of assholes, which is a nice contrast to the nauseatingly ingratiating way YoI tries to make you love its characters. Also, Skate Leading is just generally cheap and unambitious, so not susceptible to trying hard and painfully flaming out on the presentation side like YoI is. But at some point you gotta let go of these comparisons and on its own Skate Leading is... just fine, I guess? Competent, mildly engaging, not very memorable. And that's probably where it loses to Yuri on Ice in the end after all, even if I think it's "better". 6/10

Idoly Pride

Idoly Pride sold itself on me with a really good (and hilarious/tragic) first episode that was just too bizarre to ignore — I mean, how can you ignore GHOST IDOL MANAGERS. Well, the majority of the show isn't like that. It's a competent and solid version of the idol franchise show, yes, but it really had more potential than that. Especially midseason, it gets lost in these dozens of characters, and while they're all likeable, it does seem like a waste of a good story just centered on Mana/Kotona/Sakura. By the end it comes back around to the heart of the matter with a Maeda-style sob story, which could be a disaster but seasoned veteran Jukki Hanada makes it work anyway. Overall, there's quite a bit of ridiculous hacky melodrama in this, but quite honestly that's the best part and I wish it would concentrate more on it. The rest is just okay. 6/10

Yuru Camp S2

Yuru Camp is still likely the best pure iyashikei show when it gets down to business. Compared to S1 though, this seems to happen less and less. At its peaks (i.e., basically any quiet moment with Rin) it's at least as good as ever, and there's some good cast additions like Mini-Inuko, but it appears that Yuru Camp simply has run out of things you can do with camping and it fills up the time with other... stuff. This stuff includes the generic school club shenanigans it was never particularly good at, and a gigantic helping of crass consumerism. Yeah, I would say the majority of Yuru Camp is just a straight up infomercial at this point, which itself ranges from the perfectly acceptable (which cute anime isn't about food constantly), to the sketchy (I don't know whether the Izu tourism board cut this production a fat check, but if they didn't, Yuru Camp still gives its best effort to make it seem that way) to the highly irritating – I am aware that camping requires gear and you can't just ignore that, but you most definitely do not require whole arcs dedicated to talking about raising funds for the purposes of acquiring the Lamp of Comfy Happiness at your friendly local Caribou™ either. Not to mention an arc where the aforementioned lame school club does the same, for double irritation. Make no mistake, this show is so riddled with scenes that beg for a solution to embed affiliate links in video files that it makes me wish I was watching something as anticapitalist and underground as Love Live. And irritating really is the last thing a show with this core concept, as stellar as it is at that, can afford to be. Bummer. 6/10

SKOO the Infinity

Skoo has one really huge asset: ADAM, its magnificent villain. It also has one really huge liability: Reki, its not magnificent protagonist. To be more specific, it's very good at anything outrageous, physics-defying and silly, such as most scenes ADAM is in, and quite bad at anything serious, dramatic (in a serious way) and down to earth, such as most scenes Reki is in. So, what's the verdict? Well, the rest of the cast is more ADAM-like, and Reki's co-protagonist Langa is fine as the straight (yeah, right) man. The tedious buddy drama is a comparatively small part of this show, and at least it pays off quite well in the end. Seriously, I was ready to give this a 6, but the final episode is probably the best one of the show, in all of its aspects. That's really not something you see often. Skoo's a great time. Except when it's not. 7/10

Non Non Biyori Nonstop

Speaking of the rare good ending, what about we gave one of those to a slim and inconsequential slice-of-life show? NNB has always been solid, comfy and amusing quality with a couple of standout moments (usually something with Renge), and Nonstop has that plus an ending as conclusive as any show of this type is ever going to have. Besides, it does a lot of things right by focusing on more characters than the central 4 (especially Konomi has great material in S3), it expands the universe just enough to not get stale, and it moves things forward — It's definitely a lot better than the movie, is what I'm saying. Apart from that, well, we're three seasons in, if you have any interest in this you probably don't need me to explain what's good about NNB at this point. Bonus points for being nothing but an ad for the manga. 7/10

Wonder Egg Priority

Oh boy, so here's the big one. Wonder Egg is the rare Meaningful Arthouse Show About Real Issues You Guys, as you might have heard. And well, the long and short of it is that it's a very good show with quite a few glaring problems (besides not actually being finished due to production issues, but what we have is enough of an ending to be able to meaningfully talk about it). In particular, one problem: WEP is, at its core, one of these metaphorical Magical Girl-ish series that are just a thin layer of abstraction over coming-of-age or societal problems. The issue is that "metaphorical" in this case means "literal" and "thin" means "basically nonexistent". This show is not subtle regarding what it's about, at all. This is a double-edged sword — on the positive side, some things really should just be said aloud, and I'm really, really fucking tired of the Ikuhara style of "here's some wacky things, maybe a blog post will eventually tell you how it's actually about the most important thing ever" obfuscation — if it's really so important, just spell it out. On the other hand, there are limits to this and when a second, different Ai appears I don't really need a voiceover line telling me that yep, this show is about parallel universes now. WEP spells out many important things, but it also spells out many things that are implicitly clear or better left vague. Not to mention that with being so obvious up front, the show's tendency to leave figuring out what it's actually saying about it up to the viewer can leave the wrong impression. Again, I settled on the opinion that it's subtle after all where it counts the most, but you might easily get the impression that it pulls its punches (Ikuhara does this the exact other way around — once you figure out what the fuck he's talking about it's abundantly clear what he's saying about it).

In fact, this show is so good at subtle, quiet character moments that it calls into question the need for big huge fighting fantasy layer in the first place, especially since I'm not a fan of the fantasy designs and the fights aren't great. Sure, they look impressive on a technical level (this show is very good looking in general), but the lack of actual impact or rhythm makes me think this is not made by people who are very familiar with action and maybe they should have asked some seasoned shounen veterans for this — or just, you know, not do it. They can (and do) impress with character acting in quiet scenes just the same. And while Ai's character story actually does pay off quite nicely by the end we got, and Momoe and Rika are also handled well, Neiru's backstory is significantly less good, not to mention the whole Frill subplot regarding the show's mythology that they introduced just before (and that's the part to be resolved at a later date), which is a huge can of worms. We'll see how well they handle that, I suppose, but as it is it's a weird and vestigial detour that doesn't add much besides thematic headaches.

But yeah, apart from all that — I like it, a lot. Great character writing in the details, cool looks for the most part, tons of ambition, and a message that I consider to be appropriately handled — for the most part, and for now. Not quite ambitious arthouse anime at its finest, but also not a pretentious disaster like Sarazanmai, Monogatari et al. 8/10

#anime #review #winter2021 #Yatogame-chan Kansatsu Nikki #Go-toubun no Hanayome #Skate Leading Stars #Idoly Pride #Yuru Camp #sk8 the infinity #Non Non Biyori #wonder egg priority

[familyvisionis2020]

Day 6 - The Drive Home

Today was the last day of tour. I wake up in the morning feeling guilty because I have a groggy memory of waking up around 8 to go to the bathroom, Paul was waiting to go, but when the person came out I just fronted him (a word I just now remember from elementary school, cut in line, but southern), used the bathroom and went back to bed. Rude. I am wiping the cold from my eye, taking in the undecorated walls of the apartment, and Jeremy comes from down the hall and says ‘Did you get the memo? Louisville cancelled. Tour’s over.” I said ‘fuck’ and processed it. I feel sad for Jeremy and John and Kabir because I know they wanted to play this last show in Kentucky. It’s not that I didn’t, but also for the last three months and for especially the last month I have been feeling a tremendous amount of anxiety about this tour, about feeling out-of-control, about being away from loved ones at home, about being available to show up for people in my life, about completing regular routines of hygiene and spirituality and task completion that make me feel boring and comfortable, both. Touring stirs up dredges of the tea leaves that I had let settle into a fine filmy sediment at the bottom of me. I manufactured a jello mold two years ago and poured myself into it: regular 9-5 in the legal field as a means and precursor to law school, then diligent study for 3 years, then a professional career, abandoning the party life, abandoning trespassing in abandoned buildings, abondoning the luxury of resentment and unproductive time, trying to cool and firm into something reliable, serviceable, dependable, available, a resource people could draw from for once, rather than a leech or slug. And when I go on tour I take that jello mold out of the fridge and it holds its shape but also it warms and the longer I’m out the more liquidy it gets and sloshes over the sides and so forth. So I’m ambivalent because I like what I have to offer to this band, I like the physical process of drumming and expressing myself in the context of music and being a member of a band, but also I feel like I’ve kind of chilled enough and it’s time to settle down. And I’m at a way different point in my life than the other guys in the band it seems like, for the most part. So anyways all this to contextualize the fact that the news of tour ending even earlier than early honestly makes me feel relieved, if not happy, and so then I work to temper that boosted mood for the sake of grim decorum befitting a tour taken before its time. 

All our stuff is locked in the venue from last night and we learn we won’t be able to pick it up until 1pm and so we have about 4 hours to kill in the apartment. Phillip puts on a pot of coffee that will turn out to be some of the wateriest on record, but still, a super kind gesture, and then he also puts on The Wire on HBO Go and we just settle in on the couch and watch for awhile. Some of the scenes are familiar, there’s something seductive about this show, and it brings me back to the precise moment of Summer of 2013 right before I moved to Philadelphia right after I got evicted from the squat/music venue I had been living in that winter and spring, I watched all episodes of The Wire on DVD on Matt Martin’s couch at 3 Pomroy and felt deeply depressed. It ranks up there with when I watched all released episodes of The Office in bed in the winter of 2009 after my girlfriend broke up with me, in terms of memorably devestating life phases offset by the amniotic fluid of full-series of TV. So we watch The Wire and I find myself not too inclined to sit and watch and I want to write so I sit at my laptop on the table nearby and write an email to a female (sorry) but I actually do and its purpose is to make her smile and bring some levity and play and purple prose to a moment in her life that, from how she tells it to me, is just so heavy, nightmares and waking horror and a future that feels like it hangs by a thread. so I’m glad to spend time showing up for her in this small way rather than watching The Wire, and also I write yesterday’s blog post, another activity that feels sort of like a pittance but also like: doing-writing is something I have been putting off, in phases and seasons, for my entire adult life, because to me nothing ever matters enough to write about, or if it does my perspective is deficient, or my research inadequate, or my skill incommensurate with the subject matter, or it won’t properly reflect my feelings, or any number of self-sabotaging excuses to not do this thing I so love doing, and love sharing. So for me, writing this blog is a very meaningful and special act of reclamation of a personal mode of expression that constitutes a break in my winter’s depression and what feels like a new phase of happiness, of believing-i-have-a-future, of feeling more authoratative and qualified to know and describe my own experience in a lifetime marred and dampened by dissociation, oblivion, amnesia, and fugue. So it feels like nourishment to get some paragraphs done and to move slow through my days, get them onto the page.

The Wire grows tiresome at some point and Jeremy fires up the PS4 and then the PS3 looking for games but none are multiplayer and so eventually he settles on Skyrim and starts from a new file. Me personally I love watching let’s plays and this is as good as TV. There was a moment last tour when we were in this strange small town in Connecticut called Torrington (the town all touring bands are required to go to, we also joked), in this town Jeremy was describing the sort of surrealness he experienced there and he said he felt like the townspeople in Torrington were like NPCs in a FPS RPG like Skyrim wherein you would go up to people and press A to talk, say ‘What news?” and that I thought was really funny then, I like his sense of humor. Really Kabir and Jeremy and Royal represent this sort of humor that is to me equal parts razor wit, cleverness, timing, accents, absurdity, and broad conceptual placticity, all for the most part very clean too, never or at least rarely blue (you’re gonna inevitably make a D’s nuts joke and that’s just that). And during happy times I am so grateful to be nearby this humor and during less happy times I get self conscious about how great their humor is and how I sometimes feel like I don’t measure up. But that feeling doesn’t weigh for long. Skyrim is fun to watch, it kills some time, we all take turns trying to kill wolves with swords before Jeremy finally does it, there’s a dragon, we loot corpses, discuss Bloodborne and Dark Souls and comparable games. A lot of the main media activity in this group is discussing how a given media relates to another media, Kabir and Jeremy and John know it seems like everything between the three of them when it comes to record labels, band narratives, artist’s hometowns, etc. So we play Skyrim for awhile, and then eventually it’s time to go to the venue and we drive back to The Salty Nut, load in all our gear, do a final sweep, and say our goodbyes and thankyous to Phillip. We return to the Bandido place one last time for one last round of free local Taco Bell which we absolutely scarf and are very vocally grateful to the people for giving it to us for free again, it’s clear they really put effort into being hospitable to touring bands here, at least through Phillip. His band, Thomas Function, was signed on Fat Possum Records, which also had bigger indie acts like Jay Reatard (who Phillip tells a story about him demanding $50,000 in cash for a show fee to feed his coke and heroin habit, Reatard died at age 29 from cocaine toxicity with alcohol also), The Black Keys, Andrew Bird, Wavves and Soccer Mommy, but which Kabir postulates has most of its success due to having signed octogenarian southern blues legends like R.L. Burnside and King Ernest and raking in royalties from what Kabir speculates is due to poor management of the estates of these dead leagends who each had more than a dozen children. It’s truly fascinating for me to hear how deep and complex the analysis of music these guys have is. When I feel insecure, which is often, I tend to veneer these sorts of expertises and shibboleths among music-heads as snobby, elitist, exclusionary, petty and asinine. But I think most of that comes from a fear that I lack the insight, cognitive absorbency, and passionate research skills to collate and catalog data about artists in the way these people do, the way my bandmates do. I feel inspired to take time to dig deeper into the musicans I love, to make them real to me, to get a sense of their story, their lived experience, for the sake of corroding the mediation between us somewhat, or at least polishing the media membrane. 

I volunteer to drive for the first half of what will end up being about a 10-hour drive back from Huntsville to Chapel Hill. We go to a Whole Foods in Huntsville upon Kabir’s insistence where I purchase a nootropic snakeoil energy affair in beverage form, Kabir gets hot coffee and a La Colombe Draft can of latte, Jeremy gets a kombucha made from yerba mate (“best of both worlds” he says), John black coffee as per, and Kabir also buys a slice of Tres Leches cake in a clear plastic to-go clamshell: “they can take away my tour, but they can’t take away my tres leches.” Later he’s eating it in the van and he accidentally spills some on himself and he says “shit…spilled some on myself. oh good, it was only one leche” which to me is so funny and perfect humor and just like kind of a paragon of the kind of joke I so treasure from this friend group. Another is when Jeremy and Kabir are recalling a favorite running joke from two tours ago, wherein they were in Philly, home to the famous Schuykill River (pronounced skoo-kill, at least when i lived there, at least around the non-indigenous people i knew), and while there they would affect this blaring Brooklyn accent, deployed heavily on this trip as well for basically any purpose, but back then they would say “UGH MY SKOYKL IS KILLING ME” like Schuykill was lombago or sciatica and also would say “YEAH LET ME GET A KWATA POUND OF SKOYKL ON RYE” like it was a deli meat, and they laughed and laughed. Also they liked doing rhyming jokes like last night there was a chair nearby the combo amp Tired Frontier was going to use for their set and Kabir goes ‘amp on the chair, tone everywhere’ and then I say ‘amp on the ground, makes a bad sound’ and then I tell Jeremy later how Kabir would put me in good spirits whenever I was describing to someone how my LSAT score is very competitive but my checkered past makes the acceptance process a little less than straightforward, and Kabir would see I was getting kinda down and anxious, and he would say ‘You gotta break the law before you make the law,’ and we all laugh and I love that, the function of humor as balm, salve. I want to wield my humor like that.

The drive back is fine, some sprinkles, nothing major, clear traffic for the most part, I feel like I have a good command of the van, keep it around 75 for most of the trip, feel smoth and confident switching lanes, passing, etc. We do another two NYT Wednesday classic crosswords together, Kabir is getting probably 40% of the clues, me maybe 30% Jeremy and John the other 30%, Kabir will just to YEAHHHHHHHH after getting a clue and I start doing that too after Jeremy says “X down, ‘on the table’ 15 letters,” and I say UPFORDISCUSSION after only a couple seconds and it fits and is correct and I feel like a damn genius and we’re all laughing and kind of praising each other half-jokingly for being strong beautiful geniuses who also we know songs. This is a great passtime and the drive flies by and before I know it we’re in Western NC just outside of Asheville and we make a stop to refuel the tank and get dinner. We decide on a Waffle House across the street, not wanting to venture too deep into Asheville for something healthier and better because of the time and money it would likely eat up, Kabir says that FEMA uses the closing of Waffle Houses as a bellweather to indicate the severity of a given natural disaster. We go inside, the waitress says ‘ya’ll aren’t from around here are you?’ in a way that I take to be hostile and I suggest that to the guys and they seem like maybe slightly offput but not very much and we decide not to abort and I later feel foolish because I think I am doing this thing where I become excessively vigilant or sensitive to a perceived slight to a friend who is brown for the putative purpose of interceding on their behalf against racism but what’s actually happening is if someone was racist to them they could just stand up for themselves and make their own call regarding their own comfort or lack thereof and I would do better to act less motivated by white guilt when avoidable. That passes, it’s fine, we eat hash browns and waffles and eggs and grits and toast and cover everything in tobasco and tip well and get back on the road, John takes over for the final stretch. 

I return a call from Marty and catch him up about tour being cancelled and we discuss our fears and hysteria and cancellations and reaction and so forth. Marty remarks that he is a gravedigger during the plague, which is the best possible job to have. It’s not a joke because he actually drives a backhoe working for a cemetary and digs actual graves, super weird and eminently punk/goth and kind of a curiosity but really perfect for the lead singer of one of the South’s premiere punk bands, especially after his being fired from the swish cafe he worked at in Richmond before that. I love Marty and catching up and it feels good to hear his voice. After I get off the phone it sort of becomes campfire spooky story time in the van with everyone proffering their take on the panic, market failure, the likelihood of Capitalism as a superstructure to require perpetual growth even at the peril or death of its working class, the superior response to covid that South Korea and Norway seem to have mounted, a lot of fear of financial insecurity. Eventually this digresses to talk of touring, and the guys discuss all manner of various routes throught the South, Midwest, Northeast, plains states, PNW, Mexico City, Jeremy says ‘I can get us a show in Colombia’ which he can, Argentina or Venezuela through a mutual friend, then Europe so long as the label foots the bill for the plane ticket, then Japan, setting up camp on Honshu would make it easy to hit TOkyo, Kyoto, Osaka and Nagoya no problem, except where exactly are people playing shows? there’s gotta be somewhere all these Japanese Noise and Hardcore bands are getting gigs, and then from there of course it’s not hard to get to Australia, John knows a band there, and they go all around the world and this is stressing me out a little bit, only because I wonder about how much they think I would be involved or want to go on such a theoretical tour, and the answer is I don’t 100% know. Part of me wants to say this is my last tour, lean all the way in to law school and leave behind this chapter. Part of me feels like it’s better not to make a hard and fast statement like that because what if the economy collapses and for some reason school is a no-go but being in the band becomes the most plausible source of income or something. I get anxious and psych myself out and quiet down and feel foolish and wish to be home. I fantasize about my future life of stability, but I second guess myself because I just don’t know for sure how my life will be, and want to be careful to work toward the goals I think will be the most fulfilling, self-actualizing, spiritually nourishing, healthy for me; I also want to not forsake the friendships and bonds I’ve forged in these weird intimate moments in the van with the guys. I have the wherewithal to know that nobody is requiring me to make a decision right this second, and that as time passes it’s likely that the best course of action will be revealed one way or another if I can keep from panicking. So I watch videos of the 2019 Classic Tetris World Championships on my phone, eat two candy bars, watch videos of a streamer named Wumbotize play the latest Tetris game, Tetris Effect (2018, PS4, PC), and am pleasantly awed by how crazily far the skill curve of that game has shot up. I have some time ahead of me that is completely free, which is so nice. Before I know it I’m back home in my clean apartment which is tidy like a tetris field at the beginning of a new game and I get into my bed and lay down flat and if my bed is the well than the line of me clears and the well is clean, smooth, primed, for whatever falls tomorrow. 

[larry-s-gray-blog]

Calendar frolics...

Another random thought/observation from the other day... numbers sure do seem to do some interesting things with themselves on certain days, yes? Yes. 

Two twenty-two, twenty-two, how about that? Simply written as February 22 it means basiclly nothing. Used to be Washington’s Birthday and good for a day off skoo back in the days of my youth, but I digress. we’ve talking numbers here, not defunct holidays. So... Feb. 22. 2/22/22. Or 2/22/2022. And it is Tuesday. Twosday or 2sday. Now that won’t happen again, ever. Not in 3033 or 3003 or any other year… Because there is no Threesday, or Foursday, or Onesday. Only Tuesday. So today is kinda it.  

Maybe on February 22 in 200 years the day will come on a Tuesday also. 200 years, you say? Yes, I do - 2/22/2222. But don’t do anything until a little after quarter past ten that night. And count the seconds, too (wait, count the seconds?)  You know...  2/22/2222 22:22:22. 

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 67

Skoodge is hiding something so Zim and Squee work together to find out what. Previous! Next!

Skoodge’s Secret

           Zim arrives home from Skool. He walks through the front door and announces, “I’m home.”

           “Masta!” Gir exclaims and shoots at him. Zim ducks and he flies over his head and crashes into the wall. Minimoose, hovering over the couch, simply squeaks.

           Zim looks around as he goes into the kitchen. Somebody appears to be missing.

           “Where’s Skoodge?” he asks.

           Gir jumps up and shouts, “I made taquitos!” Minimoose just squeaks.

           Zim rolls his eyes and looks at the ceiling. “‘puter!”

           “What,” the computer answers with annoyance.

           “Where is Skoodge?” he asks.

           “How should I know?” it replies.

           Zim growls with aggravation. Why are all of his minions so useless?

           Skoodge comes home about two hours later. Zim is sitting on the couch watching TV when he walks through the door. He immediately jumps to his feet.

           “Where have you been?” he snaps.

           “I um was…grocery shopping…” Skoodge replies.

           “But we don’t eat ‘groceries’,” Zim argues, “don’t play with me, Skoodge. You’ve been gone every day for the last week. Where are you going? I demand to know!”

           “N-nowhere,” he says, clearly nervous. “It’s not important.”

           He races away and disappears up the stairs. Zim stares after him, glowering.

           The next morning at Skool, Dib, Gaz, Pepito, and Squee meet up at the boys’ lockers. Zim is already waiting for them.            

           “Alright, Zim, what’s this ‘big’ emergency?” Pepito asks.

           “I’m glad you asked, Pepito,” Zim replies, “for the last week, Skoodge has been disappearing from the base and not returning until late. We are going to find out where he’s going.”

           “Why?” Gaz asks.

           “Because he won’t tell me why!” he complains, “and I demand to know! What if he’s conspiring against me?”

           The others look at him incredulously.

           “Wow, normally it’s Dib who’s screaming about crazy conspiracy theories in the morning,” Pepito says, “it’s nice to shake things up for once.”

           “It’s not crazy,” Zim insists, “even if he’s not conspiring against me, he still refuses to tell me what he’s doing. He lives with me, he works for me, he’s not allowed to hide things from me.”

           “You know, Zim, that sort of territorial obsessiveness is really toxic,” Gaz comments.

           “She’s right,” Pepito nods.

           Zim growls and looks at Dib. “Dib?”

           “Sorry, Zim, but I agree with Pepito and Gaz,” he replies, “Skoodge is his own person. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.”

           Zim glowers with irritation.

           “I’ll help you, Zim,” Squee shrugs.

           “Huh?” they exclaim simultaneously.

           “Really?” Pepito questions.

           “Yeah,” Squee replies, “I mean, he’s got a point. If Skoodge is lying to him then he must feel guilty about whatever he’s doing. He might be in some trouble. At least if we look into it and it’s not bad, then there’s no harm done.”

           “Oh, Squee, I always know you were my most loyal subordinate!” Zim chimes.

           A rectangular device with an antenna and a gridded screen pops out of his PAK. The screen shows a series of small rectangles that might represent buildings and a little dot inside one of them.            “I placed a tracking device in Skoodge’s wig this morning,” Zim explains, “this way we can track his movements.”

           “Where is he now?” Squee asks.

           “He still hasn’t left the house,” he replies, “but I’ll keep an eye on it and as soon as he does, I’ll let you know.”

           “Okay,” Gaz rolls her eyes. “You guys have fun with your little mission. I gotta get to class.”

           “Yeah, us too,” Dib says, “come on, Zim. You can watch your device during class.”

           The morning passes quietly, with Zim and Pepito in their class and Dib and Squee in their class.

           At lunch, they all meet up at their usual table along with Gaz and Kat- Tak’s human disguise.

           “Squee,” Zim says excitedly as he squeezes in between him and Pepito. “Skoodge is on the move. He left about an hour ago and he hasn’t stopped.”

           “Where’s he going?” Squee asks as he looks at the tracking device.

           “Not sure but it looks like he’s heading to the South End,” he replies.

           “Ooh, as someone who lives in the South End, that is not a good sign.”

           “You know, what you guys are doing is really creepy,” Gaz comments.

           “Duly noted,” Zim replies.

           They all eat lunch while Zim and Squee keep an eye on the device. Skoodge’s dot moves steadily through the city at a walking pace. And then all of a sudden, it disappears.

           “What!” Zim exclaims. He shakes the device and bangs the side but the dot doesn’t come back.

           “Augh, we lost the signal!” he barks and tosses the device to the side. “That’s what I get for shopping at a military surplus store.”

           “That’s human tech?” Kat scoffs, “don’t you have Irken or even Vortian?”            “I’m all out,” he groans, “I used my last one on Dib.”

           “What?” Dib questions.

           “Great,” Squee sighs, “well, keep an eye on it, see if his signal comes back, and after Skool we can go to that area and have a look around.”

           “Good idea,” Zim nods, “I’ll keep you posted.”

           After classes, everyone gathers at their lockers to put their stuff away. Zim shows Squee the tracking device, which hasn’t changed since lunch.

           “His signal still hasn’t come back,” Zim says.

           “Okay, well, let’s go to that area and look around,” Squee suggests.

           Zim nods and looks at Dib and Pepito. “You two still don’t want to come?”

           “I still think it’s nothing,” Pepito shrugs.

           “I don’t think it’s worth all this,” Dib adds.

           “Suit yourselves,” Zim grunts, “come on, Squee.”

           They leave Dib and Pepito at the lockers and head through the Skool.

           “So how are we gonna get there?” Zim asks.

           “I got a ride,” Squee replies.

           Outside, Squee climbs into the passenger seat of Johnny’s car. “Hi, Nny.”

           “Hey, Squee, how was Skool?” he asks.

           “Not bad,” he replies as Zim gets into the backseat. “Is it okay if Zim comes over?”

           “Uh sure,” Nny shrugs, “what about your other friends?”            “Just Zim today,” he replies.

           “So it’s a Zim and Squee episode,” he comments.

           “What?”

           “Nothing.”

           Johnny drives them across the city to his house. The second he’s pulled over, Zim and Squee jump out of the car and start trotting away.

           “I’ll be back later, Nny,” Squee calls back.

           “Yeah, yeah,” he half-waves as he goes into the house.

           Zim and Squee run through the streets, watching the street signs, searching for the area where Skoodge would’ve disappeared. They slow to a stop when they reach the general area.  

           “He must be around here somewhere,” Zim muses.

           “These few blocks are all condemned,” Squee says, pointing at all the surrounding buildings with boarded up windows and cracked, weathered walls. “The only things going on out here are drug deals and teen murders.”

           “Well, let’s see what Skoodge has to do with it,” Zim declares.

           They explore the nearby streets, looking for Skoodge or anyone for that matter. It’s completely devoid of human life; only bugs and rats can be found.

           “Alright, I was wrong,” Squee sighs, “the only thing going on out here is a vermin population boom.”

           “Well, Skoodge still has to be around here somewhere,” Zim insists, “his signal still hasn’t returned.”

           “Maybe he found the tracker and destroyed it?” he suggests.

           “No, he’s not smart enough for that.”

           They continue looking around for a few more minutes when Zim hears something.

           “Voices,” he hisses.

           “What? Where?” Squee questions.

           Zim immediately shushes him and points at a nearby building. They crouch down and approach cautiously before peeking through a boarded up window.

           Inside is a large group of about twenty pasty, tired looking adults. They’re all wearing weird, metallic looking jackets and some have tinfoil hats. They’re gathered around something and talking excitedly and simultaneously. But Zim and Squee can’t see what they’re looking at.

           “They look like a bunch of UFO fanatics,” Squee comments.      

           “Yeah, I’ve dealt with their kind before,” Zim groans.

           They start shuffling around as others try to get to the middle of the crowd. All of the movement allows the kids to get a look at their object of excitement.

           “Skoo-!” Zim starts to shout but Squee claps his hand over his mouth and shoves him to the ground.

           They lie still for a second to make sure they’re not in danger, then peek back into the window. Nobody seems to have noticed them.

           Skoodge is out of his disguise and smiling uncomfortably while the people constantly ask him questions and talk to him. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to be there, but nobody seems to care about his opinion.

           “Ooh, when I get my hands on Skoodge I’m gonna…” Zim trails off, growling angrily as he flexes his fingers.

           “Easy, Zim,” Squee says, “we don’t know the whole story. He might be here against his will. We should learn more before we start pointing fingers.”

           Zim takes a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s call it a day for now. I’ll come up with a plan and we’ll meet at Skool tomorrow.”

           “Okay,” Squee nods. They crawl away from the building before making a break for it. They don’t stop until they’re sure they’re safe.

           “Do you wanna ride home?” Squee asks as they walk away.

           “Nah, I’ll just walk,” Zim replies, “give me time to think. See you tomorrow.”

           He releases his spider legs and leaps into the sky. They carry him across the rooftops until he disappears into the distance.

           “‘Walk’,” Squee scoffs and walks home.

           The next morning at Skool, Squee walks through the busy hallway to his locker. Zim suddenly grabs him and pulls him to the side.

           “Oh, morning, Zim,” Squee says.

           “I got a plan,” Zim says, getting right to the point. “We are going to send in a mole.”

           Squee nods. “Now, just to clarify, you don’t mean like an actual mole animal, right?”            “No, like somebody who can wear a wire and mingle with the UFO fanatics so we can hear what’s going on better,” Zim explains.

           “Right, that’s what I thought. So who are we gonna send?”

           “I’ll find someone,” Zim states, “and as soon as I do, we’ll head to the building.”

           “Sounds good,” Squee nods.      

           “Until then, just go about your day as normal,” Zim orders.

           The morning passes as it normally does. Neither Zim nor Squee tell Dib, Gaz, or Pepito about what they saw last night. But they don’t really ask.

           At lunch they meet at their table, all except for Zim who is running late. They spot him walking in, following their classmate Bianca.

           “I’m not helping you, you freaking weirdo,” she snaps, impatiently.

           “Come on, it won’t be that hard,” Zim insists.

           “No, I don’t have time and also I couldn’t care less about you and your stupid problems,” she huffs and walks away.

           “Ah, you’re useless anyway,” he growls.

           Squee leaves the table and approaches Zim. “You’re wasting your time, Zim. If we’re gonna send in a mole, then we’ll need someone who is veritable wet clay, that we can mold to our whims.”

           “Right,” Zim nods, “fortunately, the cafeteria is full of such people.”

           They look around at the many students clustered around the room.

           “How about Keef?” Squee suggests, gesturing to the red head across the room who appears to be carving a smiley face into his mashed potatoes.

           “No, I’ve had…bad experiences with him,” Zim says awkwardly, “how about Poonchy?” He points to their classmate, who is nodding mindlessly to everything his friends say.

           “No, I think he had a crush on Pepito and now that we’re out as a couple he kind of resents me,” he replies, “how about Willy?”

            Willy slams his face into his lunch and rubs it into the table, blowing bubbles.

           “No,” Zim and Squee say simultaneously.

           They keep looking around then Zim nudges Squee and points at their classmate Carl. He scoops up some mashed potatoes and misses his mouth completely, dumping them into his lap. He sighs with mild disappointment.

           “Perfect,” Squee grins.

           They approach him and lean against his table.

           “Hey, Carl,” Zim smiles, “wanna help us with a little project?”

           “Really? You want my help?” he asks surprise.

           “Of course,” Squee replies, “when we thought about this problem we knew that you would be perfect for it.”

           “Wow,” he breathes in awe. “Uh yeah, yeah I’ll help.”            “Excellent,” Zim smirks. They grab his arms and hoist him up. “Let’s go.”

           “Wa-wait, right now? It’s not to do with Skool? What about lunch?” Carl asks as they lead him away.

           “Ask no questions,” Zim orders and they usher him out of the cafeteria.

           “Hey, how are we getting over there anyway?” Squee asks.

           “We’ll take Dib’s car,” Zim replies, “I got his keys.”

           “How’d you get his keys?”

           “I said ask no questions.”

           They walk to Dib and Gaz’s house and get into the car, Zim in the driver’s seat and Carl in the back.

           “Do you even know how to drive?” Squee asks.

           “Of course,” Zim nods as he backs out of the garage. “It is so primitive.”

           Along the way, Zim and Squee explain to Carl what he has to do. They tell him he has to convince a bunch of alien lovers he wants to join them and ask them about their alien. They tell him what to say, how to act. He seems to understand but it’s had to say with his blank expression.

           They arrive at their destination within an hour and park a couple blocks away. They walk to the building and sure enough all of the alien fanatics are still there, along with Skoodge out of his disguise.

           “Whoa, is that like a for real alien?” Carl asks.

           “Uuuuhhhhh,” Zim and Squee say awkwardly.

           “No, it’s just a kid in a costume,” Squee replies.

           “Right, but they think he’s a real alien so you have to pretend like you do too,” Zim adds.

           “Ah, okay,” Carl nods.

           “Now, put this on,” Zim demands as he hands him a little, speaker-like device. “Just stick it under your shirt or something where no one can see it.”

            Carl does so and Zim grabs a larger speaker-like device from his PAK.

           “We’ll be listening the entire time,” Zim says.

           “But what if they find out I’m like joking?” Carl asks.

           “As long as you remember what we told you, you’ll do fine,” Squee replies, “besides, if anything goes wrong, we’ll be right here to help you.”

           “Okay, you ready?” Zim asks.

           Carl nods enthusiastically.

           “Then get in there,” he orders.

           Carl swings open the door of the building and marches in like he owns the place.

           “If this goes south, we leave him,” Zim orders.

           “Agreed,” Squee nods.

           They crouch in front of the window and peek in, listening to everyone’s voices through the speaker.

           “Hey, guys,” Carl says as he walks up to the crowd.

           “Whoa, whoa, whoa, who’s this kid?” one of them says.

           “I heard you guys were like big alien experts,” he explains, “I like love aliens. They are so sweet. So I was wondering if I could join you.”

           “You ‘heard’ about us?” another one asks, “where would you have heard about us?”

           “I have my ways.”

           “Atta boy, Carl,” Squee nods approvingly, “be vague. They love that.”

           The fanatics seem unconvinced and wary. They’re all standing around Skoodge, keeping him out of sight.

           “Shouldn’t you be in school?” one of them asks.

           “Pft, school,” Carl scoffs, “it’s just a method of brain washing perpetrated by the aliens that have taken root in the government.”

           The fanatics nod and comment agreeably. Zim and Squee cheer silently.

           “We taught him so well,” Zim grins.

           “Okay, kid,” another says, “you like aliens? Well, we happen to have our own alien.”

           “Really?” Carl questions, feigning surprise.

           The group steps aside revealing Skoodge, who looks up at Carl with confusion and a little fear.

           “Wow!” he exclaims, “where’d you find it?”

           “It was trying to blend in with human society but it slipped up and we caught it,” the fanatic explains, “we have it coming here every day to talk to us so we can learn about its society.”

           “Ugh, Skoodge really screwed up,” Zim hisses. Squee quickly shushes him.

           “Really? Why don’t you try like dissecting it or something?” Carl asks.

           “We want to, but it said its living with its leaders and if they found out it went missing, they would destroy the planet,” another fanatics replies, “so we have to keep our little meetings hidden.”

           “Hey, alien,” another fanatics says, “this kid should be able infiltrate your base right? He’s shorter than we are.”

           “Uh no no,” Skoodge replies, “h-he is still too tall.”

           The fanatics all groan with annoyance.

           “Skoodge really is in trouble,” Squee whispers, “he’s been forced to come here against his will. What should we do now?”

           “I guess we should rescue him,” Zim grunts, “but there are a lot of them. Let’s retreat for now, get the rest of the team, and then we’ll come back for him.”

           “Good idea,” Squee nods.

           They start to inch away but stop when one of the fanatics says, “hey, kid. You wanna see something cool?”

           “Yeah,” Carl replies.

           Out of curiosity, Zim and Squee peek back into the window. He’s grabbed some kind of device from a bag. It looks like a pair of metal rods connected by wires to something like a car battery. He taps the rods together, making sparks of electricity.

           “You should see how the alien reacts when we tap these against the pack on his back,” he says, smirking maliciously.

           The others start snickering while Skoodge backs away, shaking his head. Zim and Squee blanch as they grab him to hold him still and the first fanatic approaches him.

           He starts to tap Skoodge’s PAK with the rods when Zim’s spider legs rip through the boards on the window and he and Squee leap inside.

           “Stop!” Zim barks.

           Everyone looks at them with surprise.

           “Who the hell are you two?” one of them asks.

           “The Battalion,” Zim snarls, “and you’ve stolen something of mine.”            “Zim!” Skoodge exclaim happily.

           “He has the same green skin,” one of the fanatics point out, “he’s an alien too!”

           “And that kid must be some sort of alien sympathizer,” another says, pointing at Squee.

           “Or he’s brainwashed.”

           “Am not!” Squee snaps.

           “Either way,” the fanatics with the torturing device growls, “grab them.”

           The fanatics charge the kids. Zim and Squee react quickly; Zim’s spider legs pick him up while Squee rolls out of the way.

           “Whoa, look at his tech!” one of the fanatics exclaim.        

           “Quick gawking!” another barks, “take him down!”

           They try grabbing his legs or climbing them but he keeps moving, stepping over them like ants. Meanwhile Squee easily dodges his assailants, jumping over them, ducking under them, or sidestepping them as they try to tackle him. He keeps moving through the room with his superior agility until he’s reached Skoodge. Then he slides across the floor and picks him before jumping to his feet.

           “I’m so happy to you see you guys!” Skoodge cries as he hugs Squee’s head.

           “I can tell,” Squee grunts then shouts, “Zim, let’s get out of here!”

           “Right!” Zim nods. He starts to stretch a spider leg across the room for Squee to grab.

           “No!” the fanatic with the torture device snaps. He throws one of the rods and hits Zim’s PAK head on.

           The electric shock going through Zim’s body is nearly visible. He convulses as his spider legs go limp and he falls unconscious to the floor.

           “Zim!” Squee cries.

           One of the fanatics successfully tackles him, knocking Skoodge from his hands. They hold him down, pinning his arms to his back and pressing his face to the floor. He tries to shout but they quickly gag him with a cloth.

           Amidst the chaos, Carl crawls away and disappears without anyone noticing.

           Later at Skool, Dib and Pepito open their lockers to put their stuff away and get ready to go home.

           “Have you heard from Zim or Squee?” Dib asks.

           “No,” Pepito replies, “they’re not answering me.”

           “Me neither,” he sighs.

           “Should…should we be worried?”            Dib doesn’t reply just groans uncertainly.

           As they turn away, they spot Carl moving through the crowd.

           “Hey, Carl,” Pepito calls as they approach him. “Weren’t you helping Zim and Squee? Where are they?”            “Oh, yeah,” Carl says like he just remembered. “Things were getting a little crazy so I left.”

           “Crazy?” Dib questions, “crazy how?”

           “Well, they had like a weird device and Zim and Squee got all pissed and they start fighting so I-.”

           “They’re in trouble?” Pepito snaps and grabs the front of Carl’s shirt. “They’re in trouble and you left them? You spineless twit! Where are they?”

           Carl quickly tells them where Zim and Squee are. Pepito shoves him aside and he and Dib race through the Skool.

           “How are we gonna get there?” Pepito asks.

           “We’ll stop at my house and take my car,” Dib replies, “I got the key-.” He stops as he pats his pockets. “My keys! Ugh, Zim must’ve taken them.”

           “It’s okay, my mom can drive us. We’ll just go from my house,” Pepito says.

           They meet Gaz outside and tell her to follow them.

           “Gaz, come on,” Dib orders.

           “What’s going on?” she asks as she runs with them.

           “Zim and Squee are trouble,” Pepito replies.

           “Oh, those idiots.”

           They try to act calm as they get into Pepito’s mom’s car.

           “Hey, Mom,” Pepito says, “is it cool if Dib and Gaz come over?”

           “Sure,” she replies, “but what about Squee and Zim?”            “Uh, they’re gonna meet us somewhere.”

           She drives them home across the city. Dib, Gaz, and Pepito are antsy the whole way. As soon as she’s pulled over, they jump out of the car and race away.

           “Where are you going?” Pepito’s mom asks.

           “Gotta take care of something,” Pepito calls back, “bye!”

           They race through the streets, following Carl’s directions until they reach the general area. They spot a building with busted boards hanging off the window and peek through.

           Squee is tucked into the far corner, his ankles and wrists bound and a gag in his mouth. There are two guys standing beside him, kicking him every time he tries to move.

           Everyone else is gathered around Zim and Skoodge, both out of their disguises. Zim looks half conscious, his eyes glazed and drooping and his body limp. All of the fanatics are examining him freely, tugging at his clothes and antennae. He doesn’t look like he has the strength to fight.

           Dib, Gaz, and Pepito gasp angrily and leap inside.

           “Hey!” Dib shouts.

           Everyone looks at them with surprise. Squee lets out a muffled noise of relief.

           “Let our friends go,” he growls.

           “Who are you supposed to be?” one of the fanatics asks.

           Dib pulls on his shocker glove, Gaz slams her bat onto the ground, and Pepito lights his hands up with black power.

           “The Battalion,” Dib snarls.

           Pepito shoots a blast into the ceiling, causing some rubble to fall. Everyone screams with surprise as they clamber out of the way.

           As soon as his guards are gone, Squee starts wrestling with his restraints and tries to free himself. Zim still isn’t quite right and falls limp to the floor. Skoodge stays near him and tries to rouse him awake.

           Dib, Gaz, and Pepito do their best to fight off the fanatics. They’re startled from the explosion but they still outnumber the kids. Dib shocks them with his glove, Gaz beats them with their bat, and Pepito smacks them with his powered fists.            

           Dib manages to fight his way to Zim. He grabs him by his shoulders and shakes him.

           “Zim! Zim, wake up!” he barks.

           “Ugh, D-Dib?” he croaks.

           Dib starts to smile with relief when somebody elbows the side of his head. He exclaims in pain as he falls to the floor.

           “Dib!” Zim exclaims, completely conscious. He growls and jumps to his feet as his spider legs pop out.

           One of the fanatics grabs the electrocution device. Zim starts trembling, his spider legs shrinking away.

           “Zim, what’s wrong?” Pepito asks as he punches a fanatic in the stomach.

           Zim hesitates then shakes his head and snarls, “nothing.”

           Skoodge stares up at him with awe.

           “Pepito, grab Squee!” Zim orders, “Gaz, help Dib! Everyone, get ready to leave!”

           Pepito blasts a couple guys out of his way and hurries to Squee. He coughs and spits after Pepito takes out his gag.

           “How’d you know we were here?” Squee asks as Pepito unties him.

           “Carl came back to the Skool,” he replies.

           “That little weasel,” he grunts.

           Gaz hits some guys with her bat and kneels beside Dib. She hooks his arm around her neck and helps him to his feet.

           “Ugh, I’m okay,” he groans, “a little woozy but I’ll be fine.”

           They all hurry over to Zim and face off against the fanatics. Any that were knocked down are getting back up. The kids get ready for a fight.

           Skoodge suddenly steps in front of them, his PAK opening up.

           “Skoodge?” Zim questions.

           “That’s enough,” he growls.

           His spider legs stick out of his PAK and the ends come together over Skoodge’s head, pointing at the fanatics. They start glowing pink.

           All of a sudden a giant beam fires from the legs. It blasts through the fanatics, the entire opposite wall, and then three more buildings after that, leaving behind nothing but dust.            

           The kids are completely speechless, their jaws hanging open as the beam fades away.

           “Oops,” Skoodge squeaks, “I guess I didn’t lower the power as much as I thought.”

            The kids close their mouth and look at each other with surprise.

           “You know,” Zim says, “I kind of forgot that Skoodge actually conquered a planet once.”

           They all leave the mangled building, sighing and checking out their injuries.

           “Is everyone okay?” Pepito asks.

           “Yeah,” Squee sighs, “just a couple bruises and scrapes thankfully.”            “Those guys were weak,” Gaz snorts.

           “What about you, Zim?” Dib asks, “you didn’t look so good before.”

           “They got lucky,” he scoffs.

           “Zim, I’m sorry,” Skoodge says. Everyone looks down at him with surprise. “A few days ago the wind blew off my wig and those guys all saw. I was so scared that somebody actually saw me without my disguise that I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want you to be disappointed or angry with me so I didn’t tell you. But I shouldn’t have lied. I’m sorry.”

           “Uh, well, I-,” Zim stammers.

           Dib, Gaz, and Pepito look at each other then sigh.

           “We’re sorry too,” Pepito says.

           “We should’ve listened to you guys,” Dib adds, “you were right when you thought there was trouble. If we had all been together, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and captured. I’m sorry.”

           “Sorry,” Gaz mutters.

           Zim shouts, exasperated, and throws his hands into the air. “Would everybody stop apologizing for five seconds! Nobody’s in trouble, nobody disappointed me, we’re all okay! So let’s just…get some ice cream or something.”

           “Yeah!” everyone cheers.

           A few minutes later, they’re sitting on the curb outside a convenience store. Skoodge is drinking a cup of soda, Dib is eating a sundae, Gaz is sucking a Popsicle, Pepito is licking a soft serve, and Squee is slurping a BrainFreezy. Zim is sitting between them, tapping his finger impatiently.

           “There, is everyone happy?” he asks.

           “Yup,” they chime.

           “Good,” he huffs.

#Invader Zim #Invader Zim fanfiction #Johnny the Homicidal Maniac #Johnny the Homicidal Maniac fanfiction #IZ JtHM crossover #my art #my ocs

[ngoorange]

Im stressed about skoo but imma talk to financial aid tomorrow. Im gonna start trying to draw as much as i can so i can start building up my portfolio. I got this.

[cutkatty]

Dwarf Cats - The Origin Of The Names Of The Breeds

The dwarf cat has some interesting breed names. Dwarf cats are unusual and popular. People are interested in them. What is equally unusual and fascinating are the names of the various dwarf breeds and, more particularly, how these interesting names came about. Here are the stories about how they were created.

The stories about the creation of the name come from the person who created the breed and invented the name. Fittingly, sometimes the name, just like the dwarf cat, is a hybrid itself. Genetta: This is a dwarf cat created and named by Shannon Kiley of Pawstruk Cattery in 2006. Genettas are being registered as an experimental breed with the International Cat Association (TICA). Shannon came up with the name "Genetta" as the breed is "being modeled after the African Genet and part of the scientific name for a genet is 'genetta'. So I thought that would be very fitting and unique" (Shannon Kiley). The African Genet is catlike in appearance and habit but not a cat. It has a longish body and widely spaced black spots. It is a member of the family Viverridae, which includes mongooses. To achieve the look Shannon developed the Genetta using breeds such as munchkins, Bengals, savannahs, DSH, and Oriental Shorthairs. Skookum: This dwarf cat breed was developed by Roy Galusha through the intentional breeding of the Munchkin to the LaPerm. When I asked him how he arrived at the name for this dwarf cat breed he gave this full and interesting answer, which is reproduced here with his permission: "I can tell you the answer on the Skookum since we created the breed. When the breed was first started (our first accidental cross), we (not just us, several people in our circle who knew about them), jokingly referred to them as LaMerms (taking the M from Munchkin and replacing the P in the LaPerm. ) When we sought recognition as a breed, we wanted to find a good descriptor of the breed and considered the name "Poco Chino" which means short and curly in Spanish. However, someone in UFO who knew Spanish pointed out that that also means "Little Chinese", so we scrapped that. After doing a lot of talking and brainstorming, we decided to give it a Native American name. My wife is part Cherokee, so we researched Cherokee names; However, the descriptor names did not have a good flow. We then decided to go with a local NorthWest Native American name (since we were living in Washington State). We looked at quite a few names and researched the meanings. A local Native American word that comes from the Chinook language and was part of the Chinook Trade Language was Skookum (pronounced Skoo Kum). The word Skookum means mighty, powerful or great. It is also used to signify good health or good spirits. If someone really likes something, they might refer to it as being really skookum ("Boy that apple pie is skookum") or if you really like a horse ("that is one skookum horse). So we figured that was the perfect name for the breed. Certain TICA officials used the name to object to it being accepted as a breed claiming that the word Skookum means a scary monster such as a bigfoot. This is partially correct in the fact that the spelling Skookum is also used to describe Big Foot, the pronunciation is completely different. Below is the explanation from Tony Johnson, Cultural Committee Chair for the Chinook Tribe. "As per our conversation this morning, the Chinuk Wawa language has two words differing only by their stress that have been popularly written as" skookum. "We write these two words the same, except for their stress:" skunk "for something that is strong, tough, brave or impressive, and "skookum" for something scary or a "monster." Typically English speakers stress the first syllable of a word, and your spelling (which is typical historically) reflects that. The word "skookum" for your users both not "demonic," and is in fact appropriate. Further discussion of the word "skuku've seemed unnecessary in that it is not the term you are using. As I noted, the word you are using also can be used in a context to mean something like English "healthy." In this case, it basically means your (the body is) "strong." I hope this helps you, and I can see where this confusion would come from. The confusion is entirely based on the problematic nature of people writing Native words and then other people reading them who have never heard actual pronunciation. In our language, you could never confuse these two words or their associated meanings. " hayu masi (many thanks), Tony A. JohnsonCulture committee ChairChinook Indian Tribe / Chinook Nation The person who I believe started all the flack in TICA about the name Skookum would know the difference as her husband is one of the leading experts on bigfoots nationwide, and I understand that he has written several books and manuscripts on Big Foot, to include a passage about the use of the word Skookum in Chinook language and how it pertains to Big Foot. They would know the correct pronunciation for Big Foot as used by the local natives and would know the differences in the meanings; However, they used that to side rail the registration process. The Skookum has also been referred to as the Shirley Temple cat because it is short and curly. That was a marketing strategy when Cat Fancy first allowed us to advertise them. We came up with that slogan as the best descriptor of the cat. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. " I can't add a thing to that! Great answer. Napolean: This little dwarf cat was developed by the intentional mating of the Munchkin to the Persian or exotic shorthair, by Joe Smith. Napoleon is currently registered as Experimental with TICA but recognized as a breed with TDCA (The Dwarf Cat Association). I confess that I have yet to get an answer to my inquiries about this name. However, a bit of rational and logical thought leads me to this conclusion. This cat is a dwarf cat that is short of stature. Napolean Bonaparte (the French general during the French Revolution) was short of stature by the standards of today (5 feet 6 inches). Also, most of the napoleons that I have seen are white and Napoleon Bonaparte rode a white horse (is there a connection there?). There probably is no connection there and the name simply originated from the short stocky compact profile of this dwarf cat which mirrored Napolean Bonaparte. Kinkalow: The kinda low dwarf cat results from the mating of an American Curl to a Munchkin. Terri Harris developed this breed and says this about the name: "The Kinkalow name was decided on while I was at Kinkos getting some copies to make. The Kinkalow has kinky ears and low legs, Kink + low = Kinkalow". Although Terri doesn't mention this there is a cat-like animal called a Kinkajou (a Honey Bear or Cat Monkey) and I wonder if this name influenced her decision. Dwelf: This is simple! It is a mixture of dwarf cat and elf. Being a Cross between Munchkin, Sphynx and American Curl. This dwarf cat is short, hairless and ears that curl back at the tips. Munchkin: In 1983 music teacher Sandra Hochenedel discovered two cats hiding under a vehicle. She rescued them; both had short, stubby legs. She called them Munchkins after the little people in The Wizard of Oz. This is the founding dwarf cat. Bambino: Stephanie and Pat Osborne of the Holy Moly cattery organized this dwarf cat breed. As Pat is of Italian extraction and as the cat keeps its kitten-like appearance and character throughout its life they named it "Bambino". Lambkins: A straight dictionary definition, I think, provides the answer. Lambkins means "very young lamb". Lambkin cats are a new dwarf cat breed that comes from the cross of a Munchkin and Selkirk Rex to produce curly-haired kittens, just like a little lamb. Knook: A Knook is a type of immortal being or fairy in the work of L. Frank Baum. Knooks are the guardians over the animals. They had a crooked appearance. (source: Wikipedia). I confess I research on the name of this dwarf cat breed produced nothing. However, if a knock is a fairy that gives the clue. A fairy is delicate and small. A knock is a Kinkalow with a LaPerm / Skookam-type curled coat and that means this cat is going to be pretty delicate and small... Source by Michael Broad Read the full article

#breedingcats

[thewebofslime]

When we learned that at least 50 people participated in a massive college admissions scam, deploying fraudulent means to get their children into our nation’s elite universities, we were appalled, disgusted, and outraged that not a single one of them was using these deviant tactics to get into the University of Pennsylvania. It is just despicable that these privileged, wealthy families, who already enjoy every advantage, would be so deceitful and unethical in their efforts to secure a coveted spot at Yale, Stanford, or Georgetown, but not at Penn, which — friendly reminder! — is an Ivy League school. It’s extremely exclusive. Very difficult to get into. Definitely harder than Georgetown and sometimes harder than Stanford; it sort of depends on the year. Subscribe today and start with Issue 55. We’re ushering in 2019 the only way we know how: with a life-restoring collection of new writing, full-to-bursting with unforgettable voices. Issue... What’s especially appalling to us, as one of the finest academic institutions in the world, is how many of these students did not even care about their education. We’re looking at you, Olivia “I don’t know how much of school I’m gonna attend” Jade. Well, Olivia, maybe you’d feel differently if you learned about a certain someone named Benjamin Franklin, who founded the University of Pennsylvania in 1740 and also invented bifocals, the Warby Parkers of his day. You could say Ben was America’s first influencer. People already do, actually. It’s a thing. Tell your friends! As long as you’re going to send a photo of your unathletic daughter on a rowing machine along with a check for $500,000 to a crew coach, why not send it to our crew coach? We have a river here. It’s pretty famous. Probably you’ve heard of it? The Schuylkill. Yes, that’s how it’s spelled. You say it like, skoo-kull. It’s a really lovely body of water and a great place for your daughter to pretend to be a coxswain while she just sits in a boat and vlogs. We would never have accepted the bribe, obviously, because that would go against our code of conduct. We hate crime; that’s why our law school is so good. But it would have been nice to be asked. Paying $15,000 so the proctor will change your daughter’s SAT answers after she takes the test? Horrifying. But not as horrifying as going to such extreme lengths just to get your kid into USC when you could have sent those doctored transcripts to Philadelphia, PA. That’s where we’re located, just FYI. Like, you knew that already for sure but in case you’d forgotten: We’re in Philadelphia! What a town. It’s such an underrated city. Definitely better than wherever Wake Forest is. (Virginia? New Hampshire?) We’re biased but we can say, with total confidence, that Philly is better than New York. People say that all the time when they visit. They’re like, “Wow, this is so much cooler than I thought it was going to be! I guess my expectations were very low?” A few days after the scandal broke, people started to talk about the Trumps and we were like FINALLY. But it turned out everybody was just giving Jared Kushner shit for paying $2.5 million to get into Harvard. HARVARD IS A GLORIFIED FINISHING SCHOOL. For fuck’s sake, what about all the money Trump promised he would donate to Penn so his daughter Ivanka and one of his dumb-dumb sons could go to Wharton?? Wharton is a Penn school, and sure, sometimes it bothers us that the Wharton brand is so strong while the Penn brand is still sort of confusing to a lot of people, but whatever. Tiffany went to the College of Arts and Sciences, by the way. At Penn. The second installment of our Manifesto Series is available for preorder. Orders will ship late January, 2019. Since the 2016 election, reading the news each day can send even the most placid... Our only consolation in the face of this devastating news is that these criminals, whose schemes were a shameful violation of what is intended to be a fair, meritocratic process, will be brought to justice, and that none of them bothered to scam their way into Cornell.

#TheWebOfSlime

[inkstaindusk]

Tbh I don't think everyone in sk8 gang is found family. I think Reki and Langa are obviously a package deal and Reki considers Miya family and vice versa while Langa and Miya are normal friends (at least in the beginning). Reki and Miya are also friends with Shadow but Langa still barely talks to him. Cherry and Joe are a package deal too and probably talk to Shadow casually as adults but they view the kids as like, students and friends they want to watch grow but who they could never be responsible for. Shadow does not want to be family with any of these people whatsoever. At best they're those relatives who always have to involve themselves in your plans the moment they hear that you're going anywhere (rip Cherry's business trips) but not anything closer than that. The teenagers have definitely seen the adults at S way too much to have any faith in them as parental units

#so basically the only family here is reki langa miya #i do not trust joecherry at all with children and teenagers #sk8 #talks about skoo #chit chattery #fp.txt

[inkstaindusk]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: SK8 the Infinity (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki, Kyan Reki & Original Character(S), Hasegawa Langa & Original Character(s) Characters: Kyan Reki, Hasegawa Langa, Original Characters Additional Tags: POV Outsider, Friendship, Developing Relationship, Pre-Relationship, During Canon, Slice of Life Summary:

"And they're not dating?"

"We don't actually know."

 Reki's friends from school watch him develop a crush on the new transfer student. They talk about it. A lot.

#kept forgetting to post this yesterday whoops #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #renga #kyan reki #hasegawa langa #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #talks about skoo #anya tries to write #my fic #is this fic essentially just me going 'reki had a life before canon'? yes #i feel like i had more to say but idr oh well

[inkstaindusk]

Langa would get signed up for a dating show and then end up falling in love with Reki the production intern

#hbd langa i almost forgot this was in my drafts #my vision is his mom signed him up for it and he just went along with it to make her happy #the rest of the gang are all part of the behind the scenes crew #except for m//iya whose parents work on the show and he just tags along after school somehow #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #renga #hasegawa langa #kyan reki #chit chattery #talks about skoo #ideas

[inkstaindusk]

Totally Normal Chapter 4: Expensive Things

Teeny tiny bit late because I almost forgot to get the chapter ready oops

Chapter Summary:

In which the boss is finally called by name

#sk8 #talks about skoo #au: capman reki #anya tries to write #my fic

[inkstaindusk]

People love to woobify Tadashi as though he is not also certifiably insane. This man hit a kid with a car, took him to a love hotel instead of the hospital that they were right outside of, and then tried to pay him to keep him quiet. He had full faith that another kid would be able to get Adam's love of skating back. Whenever he thinks about Adam hospitalizing other skaters he doesn't think that it's bad for him to hurt people, he just doesn't want him to get arrested for it. I'm pretty sure this is not a guy suffering under perceived unrequited love for his boss

#if anything adam is the one spitting and cursing and crying about how tadashi doesnt love him #adam will never get rid of tadashi bc he knows tadashi wont even be upset about it #and thats not what he wants from him #i know i said i hate talking about adam but unfortunately they are intrinsically linked #sk8 #dusk liveblogs #talks about skoo #sk8 the infinity #i meant to post this earlier but i forgot it was in my drafts when the time came #ok NOW im done #chit chattery

[inkstaindusk]

Haven't sk8 posted in a while but I'm convinced that the kids learned Joe and Cherry's first names before they learned their last because they call each other by their first names. The first time they heard a chef call Joe "Nanjo" they suddenly understood his S name a lot better. Reki goes to visit Cherry at his workplace and an apprentice asks him if he's there to see "Sakurayashiki-sensei" and he just stares at them like who the fuck is that I'm here to see Kaoru (guy who never looks at the sign reading "Sakurayashiki Calligraphy" outside)

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #chit chattery #talks about skoo #nanjo kojiro #sakurayashiki kaoru

[inkstaindusk]

Chapters: 2/15 Fandom: SK8 the Infinity (Anime) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kikuchi Tadashi & Kyan Reki, Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki, Kikuchi Tadashi/Shindo Ainosuke | Adam, Kyan Reki & Original Character(S) Characters: Kyan Reki, Kikuchi Tadashi, Original Characters, SK8 the Infinity Ensemble Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Kyan Reki-centric, Insecurity, Secrets, Friends to Lovers, Medical Inaccuracies, Capman Reki, Chatting & Messaging, Obsession, canon-typical tadaai bullshit :/, Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship Summary:

Capmen, as a general rule, don't talk about being capmen. Therefore, neither does Reki. It may or may not be more trouble than it's worth.

Author’s Notes:

It’s finally here - the capman Reki fic no one but me asked for! And it’s completely written too holy shit. I’ve posted the prologue + first chapter now and intend to update every week on Friday until it’s done. Please read it and have fun!

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #kyan reki #reki kyan #anya tries to write #my fic #talks about skoo #au: capman reki #this has been in the works for SO DAMN LONG #im so glad im done finally #unless i decide to change the ending after all but shhh that's not a problem rn #i think i had more to say but im really tired i'll try to think about it later

[inkstaindusk]

7 snippets, 7 people

Tagged by @oh-no-another-idea! Thank you!

Rules: Post 7 snippets and tag 7 people

I have so, so many wips so here are seven snippets from seven different works lol

1. mirror-born [original]

Once she’s changed, she sits down in front of the mirror and ghosts her hands over the makeup products before her. One by one, she puts herself together, until the only reflection staring back at her is ‘Tala.’ Dark red lips and sharp-winged eyeliner, the tiniest bit of blush, nothing too heavy for an uncomplicated, everyday look. The yellow eyes of a royal. Her long hair allowed loose at her back for lack of much physical work to be done. Beautiful and perfect. A princess. The crown princess. Isidora smiles Tala’s smile into the mirror. Sits straight, hands clasped in her lap. It’s second nature by now, really, but it never hurts to make sure she hasn’t lost her touch.

2. dear friend, do you hear? [enstars x twewy]

Kohaku is exhausted. Exhausted and sore, which he didn’t think was possible when he’s dead, but here he is, aching down to his bones, legs struggling to keep him standing. He doesn’t let himself drop, no matter how they scream at him. He has to stay standing, he has to move, because Aira is just a few steps away but too, too far and shuddering, heaving, sobbing into his hands and Kohaku wants to—he wants— He doesn’t know what he wants to do, but he knows he never wanted Aira to be hurt like this.

3. sk8 pov outsider (again!)

Reki rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.” Maki shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m not bothered.” He really isn't. “I asked him out a few times,” Reki tells him. “He didn’t get it, so I stopped. I like being his friend so, it’s not like a big deal or anything, but… You know, sometimes, I think, like, maybe? But then it passes and he’s just normal again and I feel like I imagined it. It’s just kind of… tiring.” Maki frowns. He doesn’t like the look on his face or his tone, self-deprecating, maybe even bitter. “I know I don’t have much of a leg to stand on here, but if it’s any consolation, I think he likes you a lot.” Reki just sends him a wry smile. “Yeah. But only as a friend, I think.”

4. see this ruin through [original]

“Would you slow down, for the love of the Blaze!” Kane Hauer griped, glaring at his unfairly tall and long-legged companion as they made their way through the Light Palace’s bustling courtyard. He tried very hard to maintain his elegant gait, but Aleksey Volkov had a way of forcing him to break his composure. “I’m not even jogging,” Aleksey retorted, though he did slow his pace long enough to allow Kane to catch up. He then returned to his normal walk and laughed loudly when Kane let out a harsh noise from behind him. It was only his need to maintain his noble image that kept him from swearing loudly at him. Aleksey, on the other hand, was known to be eccentric, and thus he had no problem acting as he pleased. “Your walk is my jog,” Kane said through gritted teeth. “That’s your problem, not mine. Ah, Theo! Lyssa!” Aleksey was quick to abandon Kane as he spotted the two familiar figures conversing by the center stage. They whipped their heads around at the sound of his voice and excitedly waved them over. Aleksey grinned, thinking they looked a bit similar with their light-toned hair and bright smiles; though, he would never dare insult Lyssa by saying she had more than surface similarities with their ‘free-spirited’ second prince.

5. capman reki au

His fingers were shaking, trembling around his phone. The screen went dark with inactivity and he saw himself in its reflection, wide-eyed and blurry and terrified. Was that how he looked against Adam? He hunched over, feeling sick all of a sudden. In the corner of his eye, a big, dark figure appeared at his side. Anyone else would have flinched or worse, but he was used to this sudden appearance. In fact, it calmed him a bit, though not enough to make him relax. “Reki,” said Tanaka lowly. They didn’t touch him, but he thought he could sense their hand hovering just over his back. Tanaka was here as themself today, he recalled, not as a capman. “Do you want me to get your friends?”

6. doubt the game [khr oc]

Lambo freezes. “You’re Katou-san?” He blinks. “That’s my name.” “Fuuta-nii won’t shut up about you!” Lambo exclaims, feeling anger rise in him again. “It’s all ‘Katou-san this’, ‘Katou-san that’ and I came all the way here to see why and I don’t see why! You look like nothing! Who even are you?” Katou stares at him, shocked. “Did—did you just say I look like nothing?” “It’s true,” Gokudera says.

7. empty beginnings (or: I Became The Guide NPC in a BL Dating Sim) [enstars]

He stared down at you, cheek propped on the knuckles of one hand from his spot atop the pile of broken time. In his other hand dangled an hourglass, the top almost completely run out. “You couldn’t be satisfied with this one either?” he sighed. You pushed upwards against your hands. Stood, shakily. “No,” you said firmly. “Never.” With your one good eye, you stared over his shoulder at the pictures flying behind his back. You couldn’t stop. It was so small; if you looked away, surely, you would lose it again. The time ran out and, just like its predecessors, the hourglass immediately shattered. Glass and sand fell between his fingers, slipping to join the wreckage below.

Tagging if you want to do this: @lizhly-writes @juruna-yudja @indy-gray @birthday-of-music @highonairtm @internetslice @mirrortouchedsea

#this is also the #preview #that i forgot to post after the last tag game i did lol so there you go! #tag game #writeblr #tagged for me #oc tag #work: ruin #work: mirror-born #oc: katou kouki #khrlb #enstars lb #au: partners in dreams #talks about skoo #one of these is a fic i literally Just Now finished and will not be editing for a few days #while i recover from having written almost 5k words of it in one sitting #according to scrivener anyway #au: capman reki