The topic I’ve been working on is just not going to get finished. Not while I’m getting distracted by Soul Eater that is. I can’t believe I did not discover this sooner, although I haven’t been into anime since college.
I highly recommend the show if you like action anime. It is a really good dark comedy. It’s kinda cute, but at the same time it balances out with a portion of the drama llama. I like that the monsters are very creative and the show doesn’t rely heavily on blood and gore (although there’s a little of that). And I like most of the characters.
The choice of names is bizarre, though. I wish they had picked something better than “Death the Kid” for the Grim Reaper’s son, but I guess it works. Many of the villains are named things like (spoilers? kinda?) Rasputin and Jack the Ripper, but depicted as, you know, monsters.
Best character though? Dr. Franken Stein. Sounds like he should be one of the villains, right? No. He’s just crazy. Hobbies include: smoking, dissecting people, analyzing souls, mentally f*cking with people, and seeing how far he can go in his rolling desk chair without having to get up. He’s also apparently one of the best fighters on the show. Like that guy… from Naruto… who did that thing. (I don’t know. It’s been forever since I watched that stupid show.) Uhh… So. Here are some pictures:
(Yes. He has a giant screw in his head.)
And a superfluous half naked shot. He apparently gets as much sun as I do.
If I could *be* anyone in the series, it would totally be Blair the Cat-Witch. (Pumpkin Pumpkin!)
I’ve posted this in a couple of places, but it’ll be a first for the blog. I can’t stop watching it. It haunts me.
This is an old favorite that I was introduced to back in college. It is hard to explain the video, you just have to watch and learn. LEARN. Young’uns today don’t understand that you don’t need those digital animatrations to depict crazy.
Not a long post today as I have much to do in preparation for the Rapture. I hope it’s more like Blondie’s Rapture. Jesus can take the sinners and the rest of us can be eaten by a bar-crazed, punk-rock-loving alien. Actually, I wouldn’t mind being taken by Jesus if only he were like that crazy Queensland hottie who’s claiming to be the new incarnation of said prophet:
Yes, Cult Fever is in the air this year. It isn’t just Camping’s group, but there’s also a video on YouTube going around talking about Prince William? The Lizard? Secret Societies? I’m going to be watched carefully by the Freemasons from now on? Wat?
Anyway, here’s a fun video I found in regards to tomorrow’s hyper-rapture-activity. It’s one of the xtranormal based animations, so if you don’t care for those you don’t need to watch, but it repeats the logical fallacies that makes the rest of us look at the May 21st-ers with great confusion. (I almost wrote “phallacies”. I’m not sure what that means.) Good luck to everyone tomorrow!
(Eats people meat:)
Last eve I had a series of very strange dreams. Honestly, all my dreams come from parts unknown in my brain, but I had one in particular that reminded me of a story that my mother shared with me a few years ago. This post seems more suitable for Thanksgiving, but under the circumstances, I feel I can post today. It’s about turkeys. More specifically, it’s about the strange things people do to them.
The dream started with helping a hick living in some podunk town get his car out of a muddy driveway. His landlady came out at some point to yell at us. She apparently did that a lot. When we pulled out we only drove a little ways down the road when I started seeing brightly colored specks. The closer we got I noticed they were animals – birds – who were all the colors of the rainbow. I found out they were definitely giant, plump turkeys. Some of them were multicolored. Some were stark white. Some of them looked like peacocks. A few of them had big feathers sticking out of their heads instead of being bald. They were beautiful and staring menacingly at us. For some reason, as I was staring face to face with a purple and gold turkey, my dream ended.
There is a turkey farm in Guilford, CT where my mom went once and then told me about it. I didn’t believe her at first so I looked it up online. This farm has figured out how to color the coats of the turkeys and parades them out for show before Thanksgiving. Presumably this is in a humane way, although they are grown to be on someone’s plate anyway. It’s a good gimmick. Here are some fun pics:
These are far, far less vivid than the ones in my dream. They are more Easter-y and a subtly pleasant color. They look like turkeys you’d want to cuddle with (if one could cuddle with a turkey), not the menacing darkness turkeys of my dream. Ah well, at least this video has shown me that I can give thanks that I wasn’t raised in a family business of raising turkeys:
There wasn’t a post yesterday due to my first therapist visit. I was nervous all day and when it was over I didn’t feel like talking about it. I wonder what he’d say about all this.
Edit 5/14: I think I know where I got the idea of the birds with feathers on their heads. I love chocobos, but these birds were not as cute as those lovable scamps. I think I merged the two together in my head. So for your happiness, here’s a purple chocobo to compare:
Mom and I caught the SUPERIOR Ghostbusters II on T.V. the other day. Well, we saw the tail end where they have to call on the boys to rescue the city with the Statue of Liberty. Remember how awesome that was? You don’t agree? You can burn. In hell. So says Vigo! (You are like the buzzing of flies to him.)
Unfortunately I can’t get any good YouTube videos of the Vigo scenes, especially the one I wanted of Peter MacNicol’s character. Instead I am reminded of another recent family conversation that will pull today’s post together. I was talking to Dad the other day and tried to remind him of the “happy little trees” guy. He kept saying he could not remember who that was. I was saying over and over that a) Dad had the same hair as Bob Ross back in the 70’s and b) who didn’t know Bob Ross’s lulling, dulcet voice and pleasing artwork? Like magic Ross appeared on channel 13 within the hour. I couldn’t believe it that I had proof of this man’s existence and my father still couldn’t place him. His. Loss. My step-mother who, at first, agreed she had no recollection and then said she had vague memories, was lured in by the show as if the painting called to her somehow.
How do I merge ultimate evil with one of civilizations most Zen human beings? I have the Internet to thank for that. Exhibit A:
(Via Something Awful & their Photoshop Phriday goons.)
Exhibit B (which is one of the best Bob Ross impersonations I’ve seen; usually they are crap):
This got on a weird tangent, but I hope you enjoyed… Bob Ross meets Vigo the Carpathian. (And yes, I do know that Mr. Ross was not always so “Zen”.)
As you all know, I love bears. I found a bit of a bear-themed obsession on Boing Boing surrounding this one, weird hunter from the 1860’s that I thought I’d share. It started with a picture of the man in his beautiful bear chair:
And then goes on to feature the chair on it’s own:
You may say the chair is morbid or tasteless, but I find it unique and quite charming. It looks comfy. Although it might be comfy in a way that you think it might grab and eat you while you sit in it. Like Chairy from PeeWee’s Playhouse.
Who is the man behind the genius of the Bear Chair? His name was Seth Kinman and you can read all about the crazy old coot if you click on that first pic and visit Boing Boing’s bizarre showcase on him.