#which i think is somewhat in line with her character. she's not Uber traditional but i can't see her as deliberately rejecting all of it

[semiconducting]

my 2 cents that no one asked for but sometimes i see ethnicity hcs for the td characters and i notice that a lot of ppl hc courtney as mixed latina and asian of some variety (usually south asian, somehow specifically bengali which piqued my interest...as a bengali) but i remember that it was around tdas or something that fresh posted these like. bios or some shit and they like Forgot that courtney was previously stated to be latina n listed her as asian. or maybe it was a tweet from tom mcgillis or smth i don't remember exactly but! i get now these days ppl are like oh just make her Mixed. All Canon! and if i were to have gotten into total drama post-tdas i probably would say the same HOWEVER. AS A SOUTH ASIAN i dont like south asian courtney she's fully latina to me and that's how i've always seen her i can't change it

[canaryatlaw]

well, today was okay. kind of in a crappy mood due to a couple of different things, nothing serious, just the same lingering bullshit I’ve been dealing with for weeks now, yet it still manages to feel like betrayal....I don't know why I keep putting myself up to this. but, anyway. Last night I’d left off with our family friend (whose name I’m okay with using because she was definitely on tumblr and following me at some point though idk if she still does but also because her name is also Rachel) about meeting for breakfast at like 9:30, so I set my alarm for 8:30 which is way more time than I would need to get ready by myself (I’m generally 25 minutes max) but since I was with my family and everything I knew it would be a whole production and we’d need time. So it went off and we started to get ready, eventually ubering to our final destination, where we met up with Rachel (other Rachel, of course). Our families have been friends for years and years, her family is back in New York where mine is normally but she lives out here, but she works managing a restaurant and logs like, 75 hour weeks, which is insanity by any measure really (when I was working 50 hour work weeks I was constantly exhausted) so we don’t end up seeing each other very often, but since the family was here we made it happen. It was a really cute little place, I got corned beef hash with eggs which is a non-traditional breakfast choice for me because when I’m at a restaurant I tend to be more of the pancakes/french toast/waffle type than eggs, but I really like corned beef hash (I discovered it on one of our childhood trips to dutch country Pennsylvania in the buffet bar) and never really get to eat it, so I thought I’d take the opportunity here and it was super delicious. It ends up that the restaurant was in the same restaurant group as the one Rachel manages, and because of that they decided to comp all our meals, which was very generous given that there was six of us haha so it was not an insignificant amount. my dad was like so confused though. he loves buying things for other people (like legit, he does) and he was just like what, you mean I don’t get to pay?? 😂😂 he figured it out soon enough though. after breakfast we ended up walking a bit towards the hotel and the loop, and walked along the river for a while which was very nice. There was a ton of kids on one of the river tour boats (definitely like a field trip) that passed us and literally all of them were waving at us and screaming HIIIII and it was really cute. We ended up walking back to the hotel, where we hung out for a bit until the shuttle came to take my family to the airport. so we said goodbyes, and they left, then Rachel and I decided to get go ice cream haha because we could. we took the bus a few stops up and then walked a little to a Jeni’s ice cream store, which I think I’ve been to with Rachel once before but I’m always down for ice cream of course and this was insanely good (apparently they sell pints in whole foods if you’d like to try for yourself). I got one scoop of cream puff (which was like, the most heavenly thing, it was even better than an actual cream puff because it was ICE CREAM that tasted like one) and one scoop of brambleberry crisp, which was of course also delicious. They really like, also mastered getting the scoops to be perfectly round so they fit in your cone perfectly and it’s not like a constant challenge of trying to eat the ice cream before it melts (these are the things I worry about when eating ice cream). So we ate our ice cream and talked for a while before parting ways, I walked back to the bus route and took that the rest of the way north as it got me pretty close to my apartment (it’s the second closest bus stop/route to me), I could’ve done the red line but that was a little further out of my way and I still had my big bag of stuff from staying over with me which was gonna be a real pain in the ass to carry around. When I had to get off the bus, while I was trying to pick it up one of the straps broke, so I had to carry it from the bottom and goddddd was it heavy, I would walk like 20 feet and then have to put it down and rest my arms lol (again, I am so, so weak). Eventually I made it all the way to my apartment, my right hand is like bruised on the inside right below my fingers, not like a traditional bruise but it’s red and tender lol and I’m trying not to add any suspicious marks because I already have a super noticeable bruise on my forearm from carrying a too heavy shopping bag for too long (either that or my too heavy purse, could be either one, did I mention the strap of my purse also fell off?? that was like March though) and like, just dealing with all the stuff I see at the DV clinic I’d rather just not give people reasons to speculate about such things, lol. for some reason it reminded me of when I was observing a trial and there were domestic violence allegations, i.e. mom was getting beaten up by boyfriend and that made her an inadequate mother because it meant she couldn’t keep her kids safe (a premise which is of course flawed but that’s an entirely different conversation we’d have to have) and her public defender decided to argue that she believed it was the 15 year old son who was actually hitting his mother, and the mother wouldn’t say anything because she was protecting him, and I just remember sitting there like what the actual fuck, and the judge very much did not appreciate what she was trying to argue by essentially maligning a child on no evidence whatsoever other than her opinion, definitely not an argument unfamiliar to public defenders in juvenile court, because if a kid comes forward with accusations of abuse, of course one of the arguments you’re going to use is saying the kid is lying, which I still think is awful, but I understand why it is used (but I still hate it). Anyway, tangent. I got home and like, laid down on my bed for like 20 minutes with my eyes closed while also listening to the latest legends of tomorrow podcast episode for their season 3 wrap up. when that was finished I just went on my laptop for a bit, doing a few random things and looking up some recipes so I’d find something to make. I decided I really wanted brownies, but I knew I didn’t have any actual chocolate, just cocoa powder and different types of candies. so I looked up what happens when you melt m&ms (which just sounds like an amusing premise to me) and it looked like it would work out pretty well, so I used those for the chocolate that was to be melted, and then used a combination of m&ms and rolos for the part of the recipe that called for chocolate chips. they turned out pretty good, the bottoms were kinda hard and somewhat plasticy because of the candy pieces, but the parts with the caramel from the rolos were super great, so that was good. I made a quick parmesan pasta soup recipe for dinner (which as heavenly) and sat down to watch Supergirl. Again, my feelings are mixed because I’m somewhat invested in the whole Sam/Ruby/Lena plot but at this point really do not give a flying fuck about most of the other characters at this point. I liked the Alex helping take care of Ruby plot, and I did really get a kick out of them using Lex’s old mansion (which has an invisibility cloak on it???) as a hideout, that was pretty cool. I felt so bad for Ruby of course throughout the episode but especially at the end, having to deal with seeing her mom like that in something that is so unexplainable and horrific. The fact that they’re giving Alex and Ruby more interaction makes me think they’re gonna go the route of something happening to Sam and Alex then taking care of Ruby, which, as much of a sweet plot line that would make for Alex, I really do not want to happen because I very much want a happy ending for Sam and Ruby and for Sam not to end up killed over something that was very much not her fault (see, now I’m thinking about season 8 of Smallville and being like but did I blame Davis for what he couldn’t control??? but most of his objectionable behaviors were choices he actually made, not the monster, especially culminating in that one character death that I am never going to forgive the writers for, ever, so as much as these plots are similar the characters outside of the monsters are very different). But yeah, that was all I really got from the episode, I could not care less about Meh-El returning to help them fight Reign, essentially with a go fuck her pass from his wife, which was really the only way they could justify it being okay for him to have feelings for Kara. Anyway. When it was over I tuned right into The Resident for their season finale, and hooooooly shit man, it was so good!!! I’m actually really impressed with the show so far, they've been consistently knocking it out of the park for pretty much the entire season, which is no easy feat, as I’m sure plenty of one season shows could tell you. I thought they did an excellent job of wrapping up what was really a very complicated plot within one episode, when it looked like it was going to take longer than that, but they did it in a way that didn’t actually feel rushed or forced, just very well done. Of course Bell is going to stay in power for now, he’s more of a long term villain (”villain”) when of course Lane is going to be the one to take the fall. When he was talking to her about it I knew he was setting her up, the cold son of a bitch that he was, but I mean it certainly worked out well for him. With the twist at the very end involving Conrad’s father, I was VERY glad we got a season 2, because that is wayyyyyyyyy too good of a hook to just have been dropped. I’m quite excited for what next season will bring us. When that was over I went to last night’s Brooklyn 99, which was excellent as always, we’re so close to Jake and Amy’s wedding!!! and of course, watching it this week after everything that happened over the past couple of days felt that much more satisfying, knowing that they tried to end it but the show and its fan pulled through and gave it new life. like man, if there ever was a question about the influence of social media, this incident surely should have answered it. So that was good of course. But then I watched Designated Survivor, which I had to watch with the knowledge that they did not get renewed, and that we only had two episodes left 😔😔 I was very sad about this because I really do love this show so much (and not just because it’s made my Gugg’s brother and I’d much rather support him over Guggs) because of Kiefer and how much I love his acting, and of course Italia is a gem, and I had such a lovely time talking to her about it back in San Jose in December. Hearing her talk about Kiefer and him telling her how she needs to watch 24, it was just so sweet, I really liked it. I did hear from a source that the reason for the cancellation was more about behind the scenes things than ratings or anything, which is disappointing of course because you want to think that everyone making a show gets along swell, but of course that’s not always the actual case. Oh well. As far as the actual episode, it was pretty quality, I died at the opening scene with Kendra, this show really writes its female characters so well in that I absolutely adore all of them, they’re all just these brilliant strong women who don’t take shit from anybody and I love them all. The main plot was kinda meh, I know they said Michael J Fox would be around for the rest of the season but they really should’ve just given him an official role, as opposed to finding a way to shoehorn him into the plot every week in increasingly ridiculous positions, and it just gives me way too many good wife feelings, not just because he’s playing the same exact fucking character, but also because they had a way of shoehorning characters into plots with about as much tact as they showed here. When it got down to the whole special counsel thing and Kendra was like “it’s not even clear if any charges can be levied against a sitting president” which made me LOL because way to be relevant and throw little pieces of current events in there, even when the people in their government are really superior to ours in pretty much every way, and that I will for sure miss. President Jack Bauer.....I will always have a special place in my heart for you, lol. After that I watched the news for a few minutes before watching Jimmy Kimmel, then catching the opening monologue of Seth Meyers, who is always consistently funny, and then finally getting ready for bed. Tomorrow I have PT at 2 but nothing to do before then so I’ll probably sleep (it is already 2:30 am right now) and then maybe get some groceries. My bar prep course doesn't officially start till next Tuesday, so I have a week to myself, though I’m starting at the DV clinic on Friday for one day a week, so that should be good. I really, really hope I hear from the NY job in the next few days so I’ll at least know where I’m standing with all of this. Okay, that’s enough for now, my eyes are getting droopy and I think it’s a good time to let them stay shut. Goodnight friends. Sending you lots of love. 

[quasithinking]

Gravity’s Rainbow: Part XV

We're introduced to Katje in this section. Katje is Blicero's Gretel, Slothrop's temptation, Pointsman's octopus's conditioned stimulus, Pudding's feces factory, and Pirate's—I don't know—salvation, maybe? Why does she get around so much? Whoever she is, she's important enough to be rescued by the Allies—by Pirate, to be explicit—via a message sent from Europe to London in a rocket. Was she, as Blicero suspected, always an operative for the Allies? Or was that just Blicero's paranoia, which grew so strong that he eventually sent the message to rescue her from himself via rocket? I don't know because I'm not a tenured academic who can devote the kind of time needed to understand Gravity's Rainbow! Also, I've only read the book once so far. I'll probably have it all figured out after my current, second reading! By the way, Katje means kitten in Dutch. Just in case that's important. Which it totally is because cats are fucking the best. Right up there with raccoons and goats. You might now have a slightly better understanding of me, now that you know my favorite animals are the most chaotic of our domesticated friends or, at least, in the case of the raccoon, urban dwellers. Side note: when I was around ten years old (I'm 49 now! Yeesh!), I saw my first Red Panda at the zoo and instantly declared the Red Panda as my favorite animal. I always forget how much I like them until they pop up on the Internet. Ten year old me would be severely disappointed in 49 year old me. Red Pandas didn't even make my list of favorite animals after I remembered them and had a chance to edit the previous paragraph! They only made this side note!

Speaking of loving chaotic things, I love Bob Mortimer so much that I accidentally became him.

This section begins with Katje being secretly filmed in Pirate's apartment while Osbie Feels prepares psychedelic mushrooms for smoking. I have never smoked mushrooms before. Is that better than eating them? Or do you still wind up just as paranoid as Slothrop when he's, um, well, when he's just being Slothrop? I once went to a strip club with a couple friends of mine while I was on mushrooms. The DJ at the club knew one of my friends and kept making references to him during the night. This caused everybody in the club to look back at our table. Strangers constantly looking up at a person on mushrooms feels aggressive and terrifying. After this happened a number of times, I turned to my friend and said, "I have to go outside." He responded, "Why? Are you going to cut somebody's head off?!" Anyway, the film will later be used to condition an octopus into attacking Katje for part of the Tyrone Slothrop experiment. But we'll get to that outrageousness later! Katje walks into the kitchen where Osbie is cooking the mushrooms down to powder just as Osbie opens the oven door which sends her into a sort of fugue state where she relives her time playing Gretel with Blicero as witch and Gottfried as Hansel. Although it's an extremely adult version of Hansel and Gretel with bits like "'the Rome-Berlin Axis' he called it the night the Italian came and they were all on the round bed, Captain Blicero plugged into Gottfried's upended asshole and the Italian at the same time into his pretty mouth" and "Katje kneeling before Blicero in highest drag, black velvet and Cuban heels, his penis squashed invisible under a flesh-colored leather jockstrap, over which he wears a false cunt. . . ." There's plenty more to that last example but I don't want to put in too many spoilers and/or visuals that might upset the squeamish. If it's true that Stephen King based his entire novel It on "The Three Billy Goats Gruff," is it possible to read Gravity's Rainbow with the conceit that the entirety of it is based on "Hansel and Gretel"? The 000000 rocket is the oven Blicero shoves Hansel inside. Except there's no Gretel to save him in this version, her having run off to the Allies. Much of the characterization in the novel is based on the methods each character is using to control what they can in the face of the War's unending random violence and death. For Blicero, Gottfried, and Katje, their method is the fairy tale of "Hansel and Gretel." It is a predetermined act in which they control their roles and their environment. Or, at least, Blicero controls them. But Katje, at least, feels it is a rational decision. I don't know, exactly, how Gottfried feels about it. It's possible we eventually get a section from his perspective (I mean prior to his perspective from within the 000000 rocket) but I don't remember it. But I will remember it soon because it's in this section! Part of Blicero's suspicion of Katje, that she might be a British spy, is a result of the "Hansel and Gretel" game itself. Isn't it Gretel who pushes the witch in the Oven in the end? Is she fated, simply by the rules of the game Blicero has chosen, to bring about his end? The game itself, used to control a world one desperately knows they have no actual way of controlling, fuels a new kind of paranoia for Blicero. She is his slave, his obedient servant, his pawn to move as he wishes. And yet, she is also his demise, his bringer of death. Just as the rockets which often misfire and fall back upon the Germans firing them, Katje presents a danger to her master, Blicero. Here, Blicero's description of Katje's commitment to Nazism, to the game: "But not Katje: no mothlike plunge. He must conclude that secretly she fears the Change, choosing instead only trivially to revise what matters least, ornament and clothing, going no further than politic transvestism, not only in Gottfried's clothing, but even in traditional masochist uniform, the French-maid outfit so inappropriate to her tall, longlegged stride, her blondeness, her questing shoulders like wings—she plays at this only . . . plays at playing." Blicero (for now the story has dipped into his perspective. As so often happens in Gravity's Rainbow, a remembrance of a character by one character often turns into the narrating perspective of that character who might remember another character which will change the perspective to that third character's point of view) contemplates an earlier point in his life when he began the trajectory (parabolic, perhaps?) of the life he currently leads. It's similar to Pointsman contemplating the minotaur and the maze and Ariadne and how the lure of Pavlovian conditioning led him to The White Visitation and planning his experiments on Slothrop. This comes after his quoting a line from Rilke: "And not once does his step ring from the soundless Destiny...." He thinks about a friend from youth who was so athletic that his Destiny as a soldier to die on the Eastern Front was practically set, simply by muscle memory, by reflex. He thinks about these Germans, these youths, all used for their ability and their belief in the lie of Deutschland Uber Alles, manipulated by others, to be sent to their deaths. But more so, he thinks about those who will survive the war, those less committed than he, those limber enough, like Katje, to change. Blicero himself has grown tired and now just looks forward to the end of his story. "He only wants now to be out of the winter, inside the Oven's warmth, darkness, steel shelter, the door behind him in a narrowing rectangle of kitchen-light gonging shut, forever. The rest is foreplay." I feel like I'm just doing a lot of summarizing but it's my only method for getting a handle on the plot and the characters which will solidify these ideas in my head which in turn should allow me to recall previous passages when I get to sections that rely on the information within these passages to fully understand and grasp the meaning of the future scenes. Blicero admits to worrying about his children, Katje and Gottfried, when he's gone. This worry makes me think it was indeed Blicero who sent the message via rocket that brings Pirate to rescue Katje (it isn't. I don't know who it was though. Katje? Piet? Wim? The Drummer? The Indian?!). As for Gottfried, well, Blicero's freedom for him is, um, somewhat different. Blicero also remembers his time in the Südwest and how he met the Herero boy, Enzian, whom he took under his wing. "Took under his wing" is an awfully innocent way of saying "sexually molested and kidnapped him back to Germany." Enzian, we will find out later, has become the leader of the Schwarzkommando. From the first time I read the book, I remembered this scene where the young boy uses the name of his God as a stand-in for fucking which drives Blicero crazy with guilt and blasphemy and lust. But I didn't realize, once Enzian was introduced, that this was who that was. This is definitely something I need to keep in mind in that it colors the relationship between Blicero and Enzian. Sidekick and apprentice were the words I thought of to describe Enzian's relationship to Blicero previously; now I must also remember to add the words molestation, kidnap, and victim. And then after Blicero ponders Katje's withdrawal from the game (I think only mentally at the moment although that would set up Blicero's decision to free her completely via extraction by Pirate), the point of view shifts to Gottfried. Before I get to that, I want to clarify something I said in a previous section. I pointed at how dumb I thought my Children's Lit professor was being when she suggested we write long essays on single sentences of text. My point wasn't that critical analysis shouldn't somehow be longer than the text being analyzed; obviously that's going to happen an awful lot. Some lines and paragraphs need pages of explication! My issue was that she didn't want us straying away from that single sentence. She didn't want us bringing in other examples of the text and exploring greater themes inherent in the work while using the sentence as a basis for a longer discussion. She simply wanted us to focus exclusively on that sentence. So while I'm obviously all for dissecting the shit out of a text (although to really go in-depth on Gravity's Rainbow would take more time than I'm willing to spend so my sectional blurbs are far, far shorter than a truly explicatory dive should probably be), I'm simply not for the completely out-of-context vibe she was creating by pulling a single sentence out of the whole and concentrating exclusively on that piece. Because what does it matter if you can't refer back to the entirety of the piece of art it was pulled from? Or as Roger Mexico said: "'I don't want to get into a religious argument with you,' absence of sleep has Mexico more cranky today than usual, 'but I wonder if you people aren't a bit too—well, strong, on the virtues of analysis. I mean, once you've taken it all apart, fine, I'll be first to applaud your industry. But other than a lot of bits and pieces lying about, what have you said?'" The "you" is in italics in the previous quote because Mexico is referring back to Pointsman's previous argument that ends with "but what has one said?" Anyway, back to Gottfried, I guess! Gottfried is young enough that death is unreal to him. It is something that happens to others. The war for him is an adventure, and the game he plays with Blicero nothing more than routine, a routine that, though outrageously different, is nothing more than the routine his fellow soldiers live through. He understands that his freedom will come with the end of the War. Until then, he plays the game, he longs for Katje, and he fucks Blicero. But he is nothing more than an observer and he watches when Katje finally quits and Blicero, subsequently, throws a huge tantrum. Blicero's reaction suggests he didn't send the message to rescue Katje. Perhaps she sent it, or one of the Allies she's been secretly passing information to for the last year. According to rumors Gottfried has heard, Katje has fallen in love with a Stuka pilot in Scheveningen. This Stuka pilot exists and his name is Wim. And on her last meeting with him, she is rescued and taken back to London by Pirate after Wim and the others (Piet, the Drummer, the Indian. Who? I don't know! Maybe a reference to a movie about British spies in WWII?!) abandon her. They abandon her because they were seeking the location of Blicero and his rocket site, the one piece of information she couldn't bring herself to betray. But once she left Blicero for good, he knew she had betrayed him and he immediately had the rocket launch site moved. Now with the context of the rest of the novel, I can see where Katje came from. She was feeding information to the Allies just as Blicero suspected. But she just couldn't feed them enough. And even though her cover as a loyal Nazi party member came at the cost of sending three Jewish families to camps, she still feels she gave them more than enough information. Nobody seems to agree because she didn't give them Blicero. But Pirate takes pity on her and sends her over to The White Visitation. Here's a lengthy transcription of Pynchon's description of the commerce of the war: "She's worth nothing to them now. They were after Schußstelle 3. She gave them everything else, but kept finding reasons not to pinpoint the Captain's rocket site, and there is too much doubt by now as to how good the reasons were. True, the site was often moved about. But she could've been placed no closer to the decision-making: it was her own expressionless servant's face that leaned in over their schnapps and cigars, the charts coffee-ringed across the low tables, the cream papers stamped purple as bruised flesh. Wim and the others have invested time and lives—three Jewish families sent east—though wait now, she's more than balanced it, hasn't she, in the months out at Scheveningen? They were kids, neurotic, lonely, pilots and crews they all loved to talk, and she's fed back who knows how many reams' worth of Most Secret flimsies across the North Sea, hasn't she, squadron numbers, fueling stops, spin-recovery techniques and turning radii, power settings, radio channels, sectors, traffic patterns—hasn't she? What more do they want? She asks this seriously, as if there's a real conversion factor between information and lives. Well, strange to say, there is. Written down in the Manual, on file at the War Department. Don't forget the real business of the War is buying and selling. The murdering and the violence are self-policing, and can be entrusted to non-professionals. The mass nature of wartime death is useful in many ways. It serves as spectacle, as diversion from the real movements of the War. It provides raw material to be recorded into History, so that children may be taught History as sequences of violence, battle after battle, and be more prepared for the adult world. Best of all, mass death's a stimulus to just ordinary folks, little fellows try 'n' grab a piece of that Pie while they're still here to gobble it up. The true war is a celebration of markets. Organic markets, carefully styled 'black' by the professionals, spring up everywhere. Scrip, Sterling, Reichsmarks continue to move, severe as classical ballet, inside their antiseptic marble chambers. But out here, down here among the people, the truer currencies come into being. So, Jews are negotiable. Every bit as negotiable as cigarettes, cunt, or Hershey bars. Jews also carry an element of guilt, of future blackmail, which operates, natch, in favor of the professionals." Once Pirate mentions that The White Visitation is where Katje can escape to, the scene shifts to her arrival there, and Osbie and Pirate having a conversation about going mad. I must, once again, transcribe a bit of text because it has a recurrence of "magenta and green" in an account of Dumbo (which will also have a recurrent mention later where Dumbo's magic feather becomes soldier corpses (or some such thing!)): "'Of course, of course,' sez Osbie, with a fluid passage of fingers and wrist based on the way Bela Lugosi handed a certain glass of doped wine to some fool of a juvenile lead in White Zombie, the first movie Osbie ever saw and in a sense the last, ranking on his All-Time List along with Son of Frankenstein, Freaks, Flying Down to Rio, and perhaps Dumbo, which he went to see in Oxford Street last night but mid-way through noticed, instead of a magic feather, the humorless green and magenta face of Mr. Ernest Bevin wrapped in the chubby trunk of the longlashed baby elephant, and decided it would be prudent to excuse himself."

Ernest Bevin, Minister of Labour during the War.

We learn that "[w]e are never told why" Katje quits the game with Blicero. But Pynchon adds some speculation that mostly amounts to simply saying, "Fuck it." In his analysis of why he brought back Katje, Pirate teaches me the word "crotchet." I shall immediately add it to my vocabulary, much as I added hobbyhorse after reading Tristram Shandy. And then, as Katje denies being Pirate's responsibility, knowing only that she owes him a debt, Pynchon gives us the story of her ancestor Frans Van der Groov and the story of the Dodoes. And I need to take a break because this section made me weep terribly last time I read it and I must prepare. The Dodo story reads like an early draft of Mason & Dixon. It easily, aside from the linguistic style, could fit into that book (which I'll probably re-read soon). And while I thoroughly loved this section the first time I read it, I gave it no real mind to the overall novel. I do that now upon my second reading and it makes me sick to my stomach. If not an analogy of the Holocaust or of Colonial Genocides, it is certainly a portrayal of the thing within humans that allow, or perhaps demand, grisly and horrendous crimes such as those. After the story of Frans Van der Groov and his dodoes (Dodoes that found salvation, or Preterite Dodoes?), Pirate and Osbie have a short conversation about what will happen with Katje. It begins like this: "'He's haunting you,' Osbie puffing on an Amanita cigarette.     'Yes,' Pirate ranging the edges of the roof-garden, irritable in the sunset, 'but it's the last thing I want to believe. The other's been bad enough. . . .'" I don't know who the "he" and "the other" are referring to! Frans, possibly, since Pirate makes reference to having been told the story later in the novel. Pointsman, maybe? Slothrop?! I guess some things will need to remain a mystery. The section ends on a scene at The White Visitation where the film of Katje that was being recorded at the beginning of this section winds up being played for Grigori the Octopus. He's being given a stimulus to respond to in the next Chapter.

[certifiablyplatinum]

Can you save my heavydirtysoul?(Please say you can.)Twenty One Pilots concert story, 10/22/19

As I had missed my GA Floor seat show in June at home in Cbus due to my woeful injury,  I decided to buy tickets when the boyz announced their second leg and  stop in Cincinnati.  I mean, why not? Fangirling all over the place here. Of course, I was taking Jordan, as the summer of 2016 was the Blurryface summer and we played it out on our deck almost every night. I am secure in my vast music knowledge and boldly admit my love for Twenty One Pilots just as I do my more bizarre and obscure bands. Diversity is where it’s at, babies, ya like what ya like.

The brilliant blue October day arrived, and my preparations were made.  

First, I chose a hotel north of Cinci. I had a work retreat on the south side of Columbus the next morning, so shaving off those ends saved me time.

Secondly, I told the wayward Jordan “Meet me at XXX South High Street with your bags packed at 3:30 pm.” (referring to the event space I needed to be at the day after the show.)  Jordan: Huh? Where? Why?  Me: Just meet me there.

Third, I called the event space to ensure I could leave a car parked there overnight.

Fourth, I packed an overnight bag with 17 different outfits. I am not sure why.

 I left work and drove to the space I was to be at the next morning, and Jordy showed up VERY promptly. (Me texting her: It’s just past the bridge going over 71.  Her reply: I have GPS.)

 She tossed her bags in my car,  locked her car up, and off we went together.  She drove, as I needed to focus up with a call and verbal beatdown to  A T & T and a little light  bill paying. An hour and a half later we arrived at our Blu hotel in Blue Ash, freshened up, poured a Citron and G2, and called an Uber to US Bank Arena.

 Our driver pulled up, we tossed our cardboard coffee cups in the trash, and hopped in. He looked back at us randomly asked, “Do you like country music?”  I diplomatically and cheerfully answered, “I do if you do!” He seemed to doubt my sincerity, as he wordlessly handed me his phone. I chose a 90s alt-rock playlist and, well…. Pearl Jam’s Jeremy came on first.  I believe this set the tone for the whole evening and led to my overall uninhibited abandon. Because here’s the deal—I have this thing where I have a primal need to sing Pearl Jam loudly and also in a PREEEEETY spot-on Eddie Vedder voice. I simply can’t not do it. So when  I began to bellow along in my Eddie voice, Mohammed turned the radio up so loud that my ears were bleeding, as if to urge me along. Still, I sang on. (OOoooh my jaw left hurtin’, OOoohhh dropped wide open…)

 Anyway, we got dropped off and headed to get food and drinks at the Holy Grail Tavern.  Both Jordan and I couldn’t stop looking at our attractive server.  It got so that we were laughing out loud when she whizzed past us because we (the server and me) were always accidentally locking eyes.  I said, “Oh my God she’s going to think – who is this perv staring at me?”  And Jordan said, “Well,  *I* get to see her as she walks away and she has a great butt.” This led us to the conclusion that we couldn’t stop looking at her because we, as a species, are so used to ugly being the norm  (“Have you BEEN to the BMV, Elaine?”) that we can’t stop looking at people who are attractive.  We drink them in like a scarce hidden spring in a dusty desert.   The server asked, “One check or two?”  as soon as we finished our food and apparently I spoke loudly and with a bit of shock: “Well I am HAVING another drink!”  

 We chugged away and then around 7 we headed out the door.  I was in a bit of a conundrum because I had already walked a great deal and I didn’t know what side of the stadium we were on, and I didn’t want to walk in circles for nothing, as BabyCalf and BionicTendon were a lil sore. Just then, (of course, because this is how things happen to witchy little me), a jolly man called from one lone open-air shuttle across the street: “Need a ride?”  And how!  Not only did we get a ride, we got the VIP drop off at the secret back elevator!  Up we went,  got scanned in, and found our kickass seats—basically 6 rows up from the floor.

 Once we knew where our seats were, we went up to the stuffed and crammed hallway overflowing with yellow and camo-clad Cliquers, and made our way to a hallway bar cart.  The windows behind the bar cart looked out to the open air terrace.  We figured we would go out and get some fresh air rather than wait in our seats, and asked the bartender, “Can we have someone let us back in if we go out there?” She said “No, but you can keep walking around the corner and come back in the main entrance.”  No problem! But was it? We soon found it was, as we wandered back up to the main entrance with our brazenly open containers and were told, “No re-entry!” by a shocked looking person who may as well have added, “You dumbasses!”

 “BUT! BUT! She said we could come back in this way!” I eloquently burst forth.

The ‘who are these stupid people’ gate attendant said with some ‘tude: “Who. Is. ‘She’?”

“The bartender!” I pouted.

“You can’t have open containers either!” he parried again, noticing our drinks.

“Well what do we DO!?” I demanded, my Scarlett O’Hara inconvenience bubbling up.

He sighed and pointed. “That guy in the blazer is the manager. Go talk to him.”

 Another witchy win: the plaza was empty except for the one, lone, blazered manager, talking to a cop! What are the chances he was right there?  I strolled up, my drink still blatant AF, and explained our predicament.

“No re-entry,” he said.

“Oh my God! We were clearly here! We had to get in to even be here with a drink in our hand. She told us we could go out on the terrace and walk around to get back in!”

“Who is ‘she’? And no open containers.” he chided.

 Amazingly,  our damsel in distress act got us back in and the manager bellowed “Let ‘em through!” to all the ticket attendants, and we sailed on through, triumphant. “Comin through!” I waved my hands. Back to our seats we went!

 MIsterwives opened up, and I get it, auburn-maned singer Mandy Lee has a wild falsetto that yips and yodels and leaps around, putting me in mind of Kate Bush’s vocal style. Their wavy, colorful set and lighting was bright and cheery with rainbow tones and pops of pinks and yellows. The highlight was their cover of Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts”.   Ballsy move!  They bopped, boogied and bounced with great gusto all over the stage and when they finished with a rollicking “Our Own House”  with its zesty horn riffs, the crowd was getting into it.  (Jordan and I happened to be sitting in the “Family Section” and felt chastened by the uncertain-faced teens at their first show, not quite sure how to let loose, and their basic and somewhat resigned parents – neither of which group had a drink in their hands. Jordan made several trips up and back, soaking these poor people with vodka as she sloshed her way back to her seat.)

 FINALLY – the main event! The arena seethed with anticipation when the curtain billowed back and forth, sooo close to unveiling the set and stage. Finally, in a burst of red lasers and flames, Josh and Tyler appeared on the scene and ripped right into Jumpsuit, performed as a car on fire burned behind them. JUMPSUIT! JUMPSUIT! COVER ME! He screamed at the close, as we all did.

 Visually, the evening was a treat for the senses.  Kaledoscopic shifting colors and shapes, lasers, catwalks, a B Stage…. Costume changes and bridges,  Josh Dun and his abs on full display, Tyler with his various hats and costumes and instruments,  a glittering swath of twinkling lights for the gentle “Neon Gravestones” shining like stars caught in a net: The production of this tour was top-notch and stunning, allowing for a visual orgy to accompany the talent of the hometown boys. I stumbled across a line that I think puts it perfectly:

“This wasn’t a band rocking out, despite how hard Dun plays the drums. This was a post-apocalyptic rapper-hero performing songs with his drummer-sidekick nearby, in the midst of lasers and explosions.” They really do have a kind of anime’,  lone-wolf kind of renegade vibe going, especially with the way their albums tend to run with storylines: The Blurryface character, and now the bishops and mysterious DEMA of Trench.

Their setlist was packed full of the goodies…. Stressed Out (“what’s my name?” Tyler would chant rhythmically.)  The frenetic insanity and staccato rapping of Heavy Dirty Soul. My favorite from Trench, The Hype, or as I say “The song with the best ukulele-backed bridge ever written.” God that song is tight! They shifted stages during the end of “Nico and the Niners” and returned back on the main stage by the time Holding On To You started….. ahhhh, where Josh does his perfectly timed backflip from the piano! Lean with it, rock with it. Swoon, y’all.   Tyler’s laid-bare confessions are what resonate, causing the band’s wildfire-like leap to global fame.

 Something that is becoming a bit of tradition with the duo is that every show, as far as I know, has always ended with Trees. It’s a euphoric communal outpouring to close the night, everyone jumping up and down singing “LA LA…. LA LA LA LA LA LA….. HELLOOOOOOO!”  It’s a soft start, a gentle and sad build, and then a sweaty screamfest at the end. PERF!

 As we made our way out the doors and across the plaza, we made up songs like “My momma needs to take an elevator because of her busted tendon” – Jordan, and “OOooh but I got ma fishnet stockings on, yeahh” -Me.  Jordan also stepped on my foot and I howled in pain as she knelt before with remorse, boozily patting and stroking my foot.

 Sooo we grabbed another Uber, and here’s where things shifts from a normal boozy concert night to one for the books. Our dude, Dean, pulled up with the license plate that began with LGR.  Our relationship began with my opening sentence: “Your license plate says LIGER, like Napoleon Dynamite.  It’s a lion—and a tiger!”  And bam! Merrily we roll along!

 I am not quite sure how this went from polite chatter to veering off the rails, but I will condense and recount what went down as best I can recall.

Jordan: She had her achilles’ tendon repaired!

Dean: Oh, I can fix that.

(Like, totally matter of fact. Oh, I can fix that.)

 Jordan: Really?  YES!

Dean: Sure. We’re all made of electricity.  We’re just made of electric particles and neurons. I consult all over to doctors because I fix people.

Jordan: Why are you driving an Uber?

Me: .

Dean: Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.

Me: …How???

Dean: Electricity.

Jordan: How do you know how to do this?

Dean: I’m just kind of brilliant with this kind of stuff.

 OK, so, I’m kind of brushing it off at this point, thinking I’ll ditch him when we arrive at the ol’ Blu. Dean says he’s going to find a place to park and he will be right in. Jord and I get out and stand outside for a minute as we watch him drive around the corner.  “Let’s just go in,” I say.  “Yeah,” she agrees, “I think he left.”  My brain was so jumbled with confusion I wasn’t sure what was going on.  Was he actually planning on coming up to the hotel room?  “Let’s get inside,” I said, relieved that he probably was just messing with us and took off.

 The automatic glass doors blew open to the lobby and we walked in. Right behind us, a dude with a bag of City BBQ carryout and a gray medical-looking case followed us in.

Jordan: What’s that?

City BBQ dude: This is my (blah, blah, blah.)  It uses electricity to heal injuiries. (He says a name similar to   something like the Electralux El Diablo 5000.)

Jordan: She tore her achilles!

City BBQ dude: Yes, this equipment will heal it.

ME: (whipping my head back toward him):  OH MY GOD!!!! MY UBER DRIVER JUST SAID THAT TOO!  WHAT ARE THE CHANCES!?

Like, seriously, I am thinking this guest of the hotel is maybe a doctor in for a conference, or whatever.  It was only through muddled bits and pieces clicking together in my brain during the ride up in the elevator and ending when the bbq-toting man did not go to his “room” but walked in OURS that I fucking realized…

This guy WAS MY UBER DRIVER.

Not 2 separate people, both coincidentally on a mission and willing to fix bodily injuries with a machine with the equipment on their person.

 I was so confused when faced with this reality it was like I was living in an alternate universe.  As I am sputtering around saying, “Oh my God, I never really saw your face in the car, just the back of your head” Dean is busily and efficiently placing electrodes on my ankles, calves, shins, even my goddamn glutes.  I find myself saying, “You know, my shoulder has hurt a bit lately too” and he briskly whips my arm around and jams his thumb right where it hurts, murmurs the word “Release…..” and then slaps an electrode on my shoulder. THEN he hooks Jordan up. “Is this a TENS unit?”  I ask. “Pfft.  This makes a TENS unit look like child’s play” he retorts proudly.

Jordan and I are now are standing next to each other looking like inmates of The Green Mile and sizzling with pulsating electricity.   Dean eats his corn pudding, yanking the current up and down based on our grunts of discomfort. My phone is in my hand at all times with the first two numbers of 9 – 1 punched in and on high alert.  But as he contentedly moves on to his green beans with his feet kicked up on the table in front of him, I have to admit he looks pretty harmless.  

 I think Dean the Electrode Machine was in our room until midnight, giving us confident tips on how to heal, saying he could bring his machine anywhere in the world, and I finally started giving signs of get-out-I’m-tired. In a gentlemanly way, he bid us adieu, as I babbled on about leaving him a big tip.  I mean, he invited himself to cure me, but isn’t his time and trouble worth something?  I tipped him 30 dollars and added him on Facebook.  

 Jordan and I try to get ready for bed but she then runs into a couple of questionable characters and starts talking to them. The three of them are standing outside (why did we go back outside? Perhaps to bid Dean adieu, I believe.) They start cooking up plans like long lost homies.  I say “Get upstairs” and take her arm.  (She can be hard to manage once she crosses that line.)  We get in bed.  It is nearing 1am. Jordan lays on top of me crying and blubbering “Promise me you won’t ever die.”   I say kindly as I smooth her hair, “I will though.”   We laugh about being electrocuted by our Uber driver.  I say I can’t believe he just invited himself to our hotel room.  She casually says with the air of a jaded and well-worn matriarch: “Please, Mom, everybody hangs out with their Uber drivers in their hotels now.” Then she gets up again and walks out the door.  I am fading fast but I manage to say, “GET BACK IN HERE! Where are you going?”  I close my eyes for a minute and I open them when I hear the door open again and Jordan puts her face right next to mine and whispers in a low, clear, concerned voice:

“Mom. There is a naked man sitting in the egg chair in the hallway masturbating.”

“Huh?” I whisper back.

She repeats it.

With STRANGE AND STOIC CALM considering my inebriated and disoriented state, I pick up the desk phone.  The next thing I know, I am whispering as calmly and clearly as Jordan did: “Hello. This is Room 303. I want you to know there is a naked man masturbating in the egg chair up here in the hallway.”

 DEAD ASS PAUSE on the other end. Finally: “Umm, ahh, ok, I… I .. uhhh… I’ll come check it out.”

Five minutes later the phone startles me out of my slip into slumber.  

“Hello?” I answer.

“He’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes. The man. No man.”

“Okay.”

 It is 2:30 now and I don’t just fall asleep—I hurtle into it like a plane crashing into the ground, fading to black.  I don’t wake up until I hear something.  It sounds familiar.  It’s a ringing sound.  It’s that thing that makes you wake up. But where is it?  “Jordan,”  I hiss. “Huh?” she moans.  She bolts upright and grabs her phone and stares at it. “This is new,” she whispers.  “Make it stop!”  I cry. The ringing continues.  I realize it’s coming from my phone which is on the floor.  I remember how to make it stop.  It’s 6:45 am. I lay in exhausted torment until 7:15. Then 7:30.  Then with every ounce of strength I can muster, I get my ass up and get to the excruciating business of  getting my shit together and getting my shit together…( sayin’ wake up, ya need to make money!)  At 8:10 Jordan and I are both in the car with a cup of coffee.  You’re not hard core unless you live hard core, like Dewey Finn says.

 I sail up 71 without incident.  The coffee kicks in and I’m actually feeling pretty okay. At 9:49, I pull into the venue we are at for the day at work. Jordan’s car is safe and intact.  I find a parking spot, wave to my friend, and tell Jordy to wake up.

 She sits up, opens her eyes, retches, opens the door, and promptly vomits down the side of my car.

I squeal, then chant prayerfully: OMG PLEASE DO NOT PUKE IN FRONT OF MY CO-WORKERS!

 I don’t even see her leave.  She is gone, slinking away to her car, as I had practically pushed her out of a moving vehicle.

 So.  That’s my review of Twenty One Pilots and a little story thrown in to boot.  

 PS My foot doesn’t feel any better.

PSS Pics below of Tyler, Josh, me, Jordan,and Dean.

[lucieorosco88-blog]

Dealer Or even Local Garage For Your Car Company?

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[recentanimenews]

Three-Episode Test: Ink's Fall 2017

Welcome to the Three Episode Test, where Ani-Gamers contributors give you the low-down on what they're watching (or not) from the current simulcast season and why.

Garo: Vanishing Line

Streaming on Crunchyroll (sub) and Funimation (dub)

This is the anime I look forward to most each and every week. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never seen any of the other Garo anime thus far or if you were turned off by the second season, because Garo: Vanishing Line is the big, dumb powerhouse anime you’ve been craving. Let me clarify: Vanishing Line is that special kind of “sit back and turn your brain off” that lets you fully appreciate the animation MAPPA is capable of, because backstory and story take the back seat to wild, over-the-top action as well as phenomenal character designs and set pieces in a New York setting.

Looking and behaving like a cross between a pulp comic and Redline, Vanishing Line centers around an American hero (the golden lion-suited Makai Knight) on his uber-cycle as he fights Horrors (monsters) that seem to channel the spirit of Yoshiaki Kawajiri’s creations. The hero is the lovable, collateral damage-inducing goof in the same vein of The Tick – the eternal child, and his pairing with the other Makai Knight, a cold and calculating sniper, while cliché in its setup, works with a sublime chemistry for the stories told thus far.

Across its first three episodes, this series exudes a perfect mix of vivaciousness and joviality. The casting off of the brooding shroud that cloaked the previous season is welcome to say the least, and the 3DCG suit, unlike the other series, is integrated really well with the traditional animation. (The series loses a piece of its charm there, in my opinion, but makes up for it in adrenaline.) The golden lion suit is only brought out as a finishing move (as opposed to being woven into its wearer’s inner turmoil), and the 3DCG and camerawork SHINE with the motorrad motorcycle sequences.

Girls’ Last Tour

Streaming on Anime Strike

This title has got to be the cutest bit of dystopian fiction that exists (aside from Humanity Has Declined). It’s a story of survival in a post-war wasteland that seems vacant of all life save two children, respectively representing brains and brawn, trained in arms…and only one episode passes before the main characters are naked in a bath together. But that is thankfully, an aberration.

Most of the first three episodes can be more appropriately billed as slice-of-post-apocalyptic-life, wherein the bonds of friendship between the two adventurers – climbing ever higher in a desolate, stratified world of mankind’s own creation – are exposed via simple conversation amidst strenuous conditions. The warmth between these characters, their acceptance of each other’s flaws and strengths as what makes them them, is what makes this series so endearing and humorous.

Only a vague flashback is given for reason behind the girls’ outing, but the reason to watch is the journey and not any particular destination. (We’re lucky to have this and the new Kino’s in the same season.) It’s just genuinely pleasant to spend time with these characters as they lean on each other to keep on keepin’ on, and the moé attributes and chibi designs force a doting focus against the backdrop of lifeless, broken architecture. It’s not anything deep, but it’s got a solid sense of its own world. And I’m willing to go along for the ride for the rest of the season.

Kino’s Journey – The Beautiful World – The Animated Series

Streaming on Crunchyroll

As a fan of the first anime adaptation, I’m feeling a bit trepidatious for more than a few reasons after viewing the first three episodes of the new Kino’s Journey. The good news is that the reboot is watchable and keeps the air of the original. The bad news is that I really don’t think it is as strong.

Largely, this has nothing to do with the pronoun faux pas committed in the impression-important first episode nor the more slightly unsettling feminine design conceived for the series. Simulcast haste easily excuses the former, and the latter can be reluctantly chalked up to something brought to my attention via CR member Kolkpen in a comment on an article @illegenes and I wrote. The larger source of my anxiety, then, comes from the storytelling.

Having just re-watched the original adaptation for another Crunchyroll article, I can safely say that the amount of exposition in the new adaptation is comparatively dreadful. That is to say it exists. Not everything is spelled out; thankfully, each country is left up to an observational storytelling true to the original series. Kino’s backstory and intentions, however, are articulated verbally to a ridiculous (read: any) degree.

The art is gorgeous in most circumstances, and the attention to lighting is incredible, but the cleanliness means the visual communication lacks the muddled filter of the TV lines presented in the original. Kino’s, after all, is a depiction of circumstance meant to provoke audience contemplation. The original adaptation does this on all levels, while this later adaptation seems somewhat hell-bent on clean lines.

Love is Like a Cocktail

Streaming on Crunchyroll

Premise: Busty blonde turns all moé and clingy after sipping (or guzzling) any alcoholic drink prepared by her sweet, attentive husband. I don’t need to overindulge, in either alcohol or this particular anime, to puke. Beer goggles are one thing, but imploring preciousness by placing them on an audience in order to enthrall them to the database is a malady. The situations behind the protagonist’s indulgences are overly simplistic excuses for the camera to focus on her HUGE boobs, and what’s meant to be endearing (her enjoyment of the drinks and her mood change thereafter) propagates the notion that all females really want to do instead of work is drink and dote on their husbands. Sure, the MC is drinking to feel good, and that’s all well and good, but the effects are induced to solely benefit the male character and, by proxy, the male-targeted audience. (The MC is never affected positively by the drinking with regards to herself save the momentary salvation the destruction of neurons affords.) It’s sickening, frankly, and wholly without merit. Not only does Love is Like a Cocktail borrow reactions and framing from the impeccable Wakako-zake, but the series also nods to recipe introductions a la the classic Bartender. In fact, the only original thing Love is Like a Cocktail has going for it is the motorcycle-riding lemon, which is at least weird and original and ends (thankfully) each episode. Even though this is a short, I struggled to make it to episode three to make my final decision: I will not be watching any more of this dreck.

Pikotaro's Lullaby LA LA BY

Streaming on Crunchyroll

While it started airing too late for me to write up for my Summer 2017 3ET, Pikotaro’s Lullaby LA LA BY was by far one of the best comedies of last season. Each episode features a fairy/folk tale background drawn by director Takashi Taniguchi, about whom you can and should read about here and then watch what is available of his catalog, and features an improvised dialog by comedian Pikotaro. The latter is that guy who penned that pineapple-apple song, and he features in each and every episode as an antagonistic force.

It’s comedy brilliance.

The new season isn’t actually new. It’s comprised of the 3 Web episodes that preceded the series proper. None of them are are great as any episode from last season (maybe with the exception of the Cinderella episode), but any fan of the series will be glad to watch them. And they might serve even better as an introduction to the main series. So, please, if seeing those three shorts tickles you fancy as much as they tickle your funny bone, go watch the rest of Pikotaro’s Lullaby LA LA BY. Guffaws as well as chuckles that snowball into breathless tears await you.

Recovery of an MMO Junkie

Streaming on Crunchyroll

A woman in her thirties decides to become a NEET and thereby ascends to her made-up “elite NEET” status. Soon she indulges in an old pastime for which she, lately, has just not had the late night hours or energy necessary: MMORPGs.

I’m not sure whether I’m mad at the IRL plot for interrupting the MMO experience with Seth McFarland-ish emotigag cuing, or the MMO being similar to the other players-trapped-in-the-game series and teasing me with IRL Welcome to the NHK-ness. All I know is that this series is so occasionally cute that nothing else really matters. That is to say that this is junk.

It refuses to be here or there and, at least as of the first three episodes, seems trite in comparison to Welcome to the NHK and ReLIFE. Not that this series has to be dark, but it is about a woman in her thirties after all. And that’s kinda what I hate: this series wants both worlds but doesn’t really know how to balance them. The whole thing makes a joke out of a bad situation portrayed with such a light hand that it confuses humanity and punchlines. Hell, it makes dramatic reaction punchlines … which would be more heady if the series itself were.

If you’re looking for a cute woman nerd geeking out over games and boys men, then this is your bag. I, however, forgot it in a taxi.

TWOCAR: Racing Sidecar

Streaming on Crunchyroll

To be perfectly honest, I literally thought this type of racing was fabricated so that the animators could thrust body-suited riders’ backsides into the cameras as they flail into dramatic poses along the raceway. As it turns out, sidecar racing is REAL, much like Keijo!!!!!!!! is (…now), and pretty darned exciting too!

TWOCAR isn’t so adept at turning something slow and calculating, as with wager games in Kaiji or Akagi, into bloodsport, but it does a darned good job at realistically and enthusiastically depicting the sport itself. The whiny feel-feel relationships between the teams’ partners and the collective group of riders as a whole enables a “story” of sorts, but mostly this show is just about admiring the execution and digging into the turns.

That is to say the racing is enthralling for both its uniqueness and the extra drama injected by home team vs. visitors (personalized by intimate teams of two) as well as the backstories and current conflicts of the latter. I can’t believe I’m about to say this (I blame the whisky), but TWOCAR is a pretty competent sports anime. It’s nothing that’ll upend the world, but it’s got enough visual flare and dramatic knowhow to keep me entertained week to week. Kudos!

originally appeared on Ani-Gamers on October 25, 2017 at 1:49 AM.

By: Ink

[canaryatlaw]

So, today was all around pretty good, although it started out with what could've been a much worse mess up than it was haha so even in that I was glad it wasn't worse. But being the genius that I am, I straight up forgot to set my alarm last night. Really, Rachel? Like really? But thankfully I woke up at 8:02 and realized what had happened, so I was only half an hour behind, which of course was cured by ubering to church (I swear my uber bill this week is gonna be through the roof). But I got there just on time to the nursery as we started transitioning from the 8 am service to the 9:30. We weren't sure how it was gonna go because there weren't a lot of volunteers signed up and that's normally the busiest service, but a lot of volunteers showed up anyway so it was fine (I think a lot of them were family members who were asked for this week rather than regular volunteers, otherwise I would've been kind of pissed they didn't sign up and had us freaking out). But yeah, it pretty much went off without a hitch, I think we got about 12 babies so it was manageable, and I think we made it through without having to text any moms so that's always a win. Once parents started coming I ran over to the makeshift church to grab some food before service, and wound up eating half a donut while having a short discussion continued from last week about 13 Reasons Why with one of my friends on the ministry team (she's like, the mom of teenagers but she's very sweet and I like her a lot). So then I went to service, and we went a bit non-traditional as it was actually a panel discussing privilege, being that we're in our "love thy neighborhood" series and we're discussing all the violence, segregation, and economic disparities there are here. It was a really interesting discussion and I think they did a really good job framing it in a Christian context that made sense and didn't come off as something that would make some people feel defensive. I'm probably gonna tell my dad and brother to listen to the recording of it on the church's website because I think it could help their understanding of the subject, if they're willing to listen anyway. So after that service I ran back over to the nursery, and prepared for the 12:30, which thankfully is the calm service and it proved to be so again today. I don't think there were any tears haha. There was our little chubster boy who's just the most smiliest little thing, and then they were short staffed in some rooms so they were moving kids around, so we got some of the 2 year olds including my little favorite girl I hadn't seen since she moved up, so I got to play with her for most of the service which of course I had so much fun with because she's just so darn cute. We did the whole "I'm gonna get you!" chasing thing for a while haha and then generally just played, I ended up sitting in the ball pit as she tried to identify the colors of the balls, but I don't think she was quite connecting what actual trait we were talking about because she'd hold up a blue one and go "blue!" And we'd say yes! Then she'd hold up an orange one and say "blue!" And I'm just like I don't think you're quite getting it sweetie. She got uncharacteristically upset towards the end, something I've only seen out of her one 1 or 2 other occasions, and we were close to the service being over but she wanted her parents and refused to be comforted in any way, not quite throwing a tantrum but not being happy. Fortunately her two older sisters were in the K-5 room across the hall so I asked if she'd like to see her sisters and took her over there, which seemed to help her out a bit. It was a bit chaotic in there so I didn't want her to be in there too long because they were playing foosball and such and I didn't want her to get hit with one of the poles in it that was just at the level of her head, lol. She let us go back after a few minutes though and then thankfully her mom showed up soon after so that ended up fine. We had also been packing up during the service since we have to move a lot of stuff back to the actual church, so we finished that up and then we were done. During the morning I was trying to think what I could do off my to do list today, and it occurred to me that I could go bra shopping after church since I was already downtown and would have time. So I typed the address into google maps and told me to show the public transit from my location to there and it was like "unable to find route" and I was just like........wtf?? This has never happened before haha but it really was not cooperating so I sighed and said I guess I'll take an uber but I did uber pool and since it wasn't a very long distance it was only like $3. So I get to the shmancy shopping center and the one fucking bra store in all of Chicago that actually sells my bra size (I'm not even exaggerating) and the lady there actually remembered me because of my weird polyester allergy haha and I just told her one of the ones I had wasn't fitting right and the other was getting kind of worn since I was pretty much only ever wearing it. So we got to work trying on bras and managed to find a few good options, I wanted to have at least a few I could choose from, so I chose two from the store and then ended up ordering a third just in a different color for the size that fit best (when people are like "what's your size?" I'm like "it depends on what bra I'm wearing???" Haha cuz they're very inconsistent. Last time I checked measurement wise I think I was a 34HH and the bras I got today were a 32H, 34H, and 32I (I'm guessing that brand skips from H to I and doesn't do double H, again, inconsistent brands)). So I ended up spending a lot on that of course because they're like $150 a pop but like, what else am I supposed to do? I need bras, lol. So when I left there there was a Bloomingdales in there too which I remembered being way expensive the last time I was in there but I did still need blazers so I thought maybe I'd check if they had any on sale. WELL. They actually had quite a few that were 40% off, sounds like a great deal- except the original price on the first I checked was $995 (sale price of $597) and $1195 (sale price of $717). So after that short peek I promptly left because I refuse to spend that much money on simple items of clothing (like if it's a specialized dress or whatever sure but just a fucking blazer? Please). I was kind of hungry at that point and they had a little coffee shop on the bottom floor so I went there and ordered a ham and cheese croissant and an Arnold Palmer, and they warmed the croissant up and it was pretty fucking fantastic, I gotta say. Thankfully there were public transportation routes home, and I was able to get on a bus not far, only issue was I had to wait about 10 minutes for it to get there which wouldn't normally be an issue, but it had decided to get super windy and very chilly because of it, and I just have my spring dress, leggings, and cardigan which I'm like gripping to my chest because I'm freeeeeezing, and when the bus got there I wanted to like burst on there and be like "THANK GOD YOURE HERE" lol but I thought that might be a bit dramatic. So I got home and wanted to be productive, I first wanted to do laundry but quickly realized I currently have zero quarters so I was kind of stuck there. So instead I worked on hanging all the autographs I got from HVFF along with a few other things that had either never been hanged or had been and since fallen off the wall. I was successful with all but one who just refused to cooperate, lol. I'm just not very good at lining things up and when you're using the command strips you have to like let them sit on the wall for an hour then stick the picture back on and I'm so bad at that haha but we survived. I heated up some dinner and went to watch more iron fist, which did get somewhat more interesting I'd say, but the plot is still weird and I'm not really feeling the stakes here? Like it doesn't feel like the proper level of drama is there I suppose. I do enjoy the female characters though, and Claire Temple showed up and she always makes everything better so that was an improvement. While I watched I updated the company tumblr and did other such various small but productive things. And that was pretty much my day. Back to work tomorrow. Oh, I did one of the Starbucks refresher instant packet things this morning since it has caffeine in it and I didn't really have a mid-morning drowsy spell during church like I had been, though I felt tired a bit later while I was on the bus. But hey, it's progress I suppose if it'll work. And that reminds me I forgot to take the melatonin gummies tonight, dammit, so I need to go do that now so I can hopefully still fall asleep sometime soon. Goodnight peeps. Have as decent a Monday as Mondays can possibly be.