The Sixth Minute

Saaaaaaail away

2009-12-12T18:57:35Z

After a delay of roughly forever, I've finally posted something new at 5M.net: Five-Minute Sailor Moon.

I never watched the show, but I was aware of it because my brother did (not that he'll admit it now). He was just below the age where it would have been too girly for him, and I was just above that age. However, I did watch one episode all the way through. I guess I was channel-flipping and decided to see what was happening... and man, big stuff was happening.

This was the first-season finale, of course. Sailor Scouts were dropping left and right. And despite the dub's attempt to pass this off as getting knocked into a coma or something like that, I wasn't fooled for a second. I have a feeling most kids weren't. Serena wouldn't have been that upset about her friends being unconscious, and their spirits certainly wouldn't have shown up to help her in the final fight.

It sort of blew my mind. I'd never seen anything this heavy in a cartoon show before. And although everybody came back to life, the ending was sad in a whole different way, with all the girls losing their memory of being Sailor Scouts. It made such an impact on me that I set aside my inhibitions and watched the next one... but I don't think I got much farther than the "Luna Mind Meld". That was a little too tongue-in-cheek for me (and for years I assumed it was a dub change, but apparently that's really what she calls it).

So let that be a lesson to those who would dumb stories down to make them healthier for kids. Forget the whole question of whether it's disrespectful to the original creators -- sometimes it doesn't even work.

- Z

Seinen/coseinen tangent

2009-11-28T05:04:54Z

Anime is a funny beast. That sounds like an overgeneralization, of course -- after all, there's a ton out there, in many different genres. But what I've been noticing lately is how many anime series seem to be aimed at audiences we in North America don't even have.

Take Haré + Guu, for instance. Brilliant show, if slightly kiddy; every time I watch it I think about how well it would fit in the after-school animation block. But then I realize you can only say that about 80% of the show -- the rest has stuff that wouldn't be appropriate. What do you do with Weda, Haré's scantily-clad boozer of a mom? Or Bell, the devoted maidservant who gets violent nosebleeds over her mistress's "purity"? Hell, the fifth episode is all about determining who fathered Haré out of wedlock.

This isn't unusual. For every show like Ai Yori Aoshi, where the adult stuff fits fine because the show pitches itself to late teens anyway, there's one like Rosario + Vampire which combines simple kid-friendly concepts and plot structures... with panty shot festivals and incessant breast-size jokes. (I do have examples without plus signs in their titles, by the way.) I enjoy lots of those shows, but they also make me feel vaguely uncomfortable, like I'm watching someone make dirty jokes with my little brother in the room.

There's a word for what I'm talking about: surrounded. No, wait. The word is seinen. It's supposed to mean targeted at males in the 18-30 range, but in my experience, it's more often what I've described above -- material that would be fine for kids from about 12 up, were it not for the gratuitous stuff mixed in. Like most genres, it's fuzzy; I'm not sure why Ai Yori Aoshi is seinen and not shoujo, for instance (though it makes me less embarrassed for enjoying it). Aoi may appeal to some men's fantasies of the perfect girlfriend, but her appeal to girls as an old-fashioned romantic heroine is even stronger. My point, though, is that the seinen audience seems to be one that only Japan aims for. Kids' and even teen shows don't have breast jokes and panty shots here, unless I'm way out of touch.

It's just something I've been thinking about. Which brings me ~~inexplicably~~ inexorably to Soul Eater.

That show is great. Seriously, it's way too much fun -- can't recommend it enough. I'm 40 episodes in out of 51 total. And what I find myself wondering, for a somewhat different reason, is what audience this show is aiming for.

[Very mild spoilers up to episode 40 and speculation thereafter.]
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See, the closer I get to the end, the more I feel a sense of dread. This is partly because I peeked ahead at the show's fourth and last end-theme sequence (I'll call it ED4). It's definitely my favourite of the four, with the best music, but it also goes for some seriously apocalyptic imagery. The second opening theme (there's only two) does much the same. When I saw the battleground in ED4, I got the same feeling as when I first saw the old warehouse in Death Note or Ruhenheim in Monster -- a horrible feeling that this is the last stop, everyone's going to die here.

One thing both themes not-too-subtly suggest is that Shinigami-sama will die. Pretending for the moment that this makes sense (he's Death), it's also an easy guess, and not just because we keep getting hints that he was mixed up in some bad business in the past. This is an epic story about students, and that means sooner or later the master has to die. Otherwise the tension in the final battle isn't high enough. (Yes, there's always the "master gets trapped" scenario, but Soul Eater has played that card already.)

That's not why I have the sense of dread, though. Nor am I worried too much on account of the other characters who seem to be in trouble in those themes. It doesn't look good for poor Stein, and Patti is depicted suspiciously, and of course the end of OP2 absurdly tries to make us think Maka will bite it. But what worries me is something else.

At the 40-episode point, I'm still not sure whether Soul Eater is a serious drama or something lighter for the seinen crowd. That was probably deliberate. But when I see the finale, I'll know for sure. Because if this is a serious drama, Death the Kid is going to die.

It's written all over his storyline. Maka and Black Star are all about personal glory, but Kid has bigger concerns. He sees something evil building up, a web tightening around them all. He can't trust anyone, because he's got reason to think his dad may be part of it. He's determined to get to the bottom of things -- and he'll take a stand even if he's the only one.

But only the main character of a story can get away with that. For anyone else, this path ends in death. Heroic death, to be sure; death that galvanizes the protagonists and maybe makes their victory possible. But death all the same.

That's if the target audience is adults. But there's another possibility. Maybe the show is ultimately meant for younger viewers. Maybe it's prepared to scare the audience but not to break their hearts. In short, maybe Soul Eater is Harry Potter. (The similarities are pretty blatant.)

And in that case, everybody lives. Possibly not all the minor characters, probably not Shinigami-sama, and definitely not all the villains, but the three main kids and their weapons. The argument is the same one I made just before the last HP book came out. Soul Eater isn't the same level of phenomenon, but if it considers the younger audience its priority, it won't kill the heroes.

So what'll it be, Soul Eater? Seinen or the next level up, whatever the hell that's called? Entertainment or intensity? J. K. Rowling or J. Michael Straczynski?

Guess I'll see.

(By the way, I know I'm late to the party. Soul Eater finished airing back in March. But I'm just watching it now, and I wanted to say something about this strange dilemma I'm feeling.)

- Z

Five-Second SAW

2009-10-24T01:26:30Z

Yep, Saw VI opens tonight. So here's a little something I whipped up a while ago. Full spoilers for the first five.

SAW I

Jigsaw: Let's play a game where you both die.
(two hours later)
Jigsaw: You both die. Also, I've been tricking you with clever editing. Here's what really happened.
Dr. Gordon: Huh. I kinda wish I hadn't cut off my own foot now.

SAW II

Jigsaw: I trapped some people in a house, including your son. Now I'm going to play a game where they all die.
(two hours later)
Amanda: They all died. Also, here's what really happened.
Eric Matthews: Huh. I kinda wish I hadn't done the exact opposite of what Jigsaw said now.
Amanda: Yep. Have fun cutting off your own foot.

SAW III

Jigsaw: Here's what really happened in the first two movies.
Amanda: Isn't this giving you a headache?
Jigsaw: Pardon? I can't hear you over the power drill boring into my skull at my own request.
(one brain operation later)
Jigsaw: Hope you liked my game about forgiveness. Now everyone dies if you kill me.
Jeff: Huh. I kinda wish I hadn't just done that.

SAW IV

Jigsaw: You think this is over just because I'm dead? Hell, I'm not even giving up top billing. Now here's what really happened in the last movie.
Hoffman: I kinda wish I hadn't come to this autopsy now.
Rigg: No way! After all those fake-outs, Eric is still alive!
Jigsaw: Yep. Let's play a game where he dies and I mess with your head.
Rigg: That doesn't sound like fun.
Jigsaw: Okay, you can die too.

SAW V

Strohm: So that's what really happened in the last four movies!
New Jigsaw: Pardon? I can't hear you over the game we're playing where you die.
Strohm: Well... you may have won, but at least Jigsaw is gone for good!
Jigsaw: Not a problem. I have enough flashback material for the next ten movies.
Jill: And he left me a whole box of sequel hooks.
Strohm: Oh. I kinda wish I hadn't -- (CRUNCH)

And coming soon... SAW VI

Jigsaw: Here's what really happened in the first five movies.
Everyone: Oh, SHUT UP!

- Z

Oh, I'll add to your discussion

2009-07-12T20:00:13Z

Different sites use different mechanisms to eliminate spam comments and abuse. I think it was Slashdot that first let users vote posts up or down; this is better than nothing, but it's no substitute for an intelligent moderator. For one thing, in a forum where the balance of opinion is heavily on one side, that majority can easily shout down dissent with their votes. That's one reason I think it's important to let users decide if they want to see downvoted posts, instead of simply hiding them from everyone.

But there are other problems which have less to do with philosophy and more with mechanics. This one I just stumbled on, for instance.

I've always sorta figured that when you create a discussion, you add to it by definition. What with zero being less than any positive number and all. But that's probably just the kind of naive idea you get from working in math.

- Z

Long enough to reach the ground

2009-05-21T01:37:55Z

So I decided to start biking again recently. My first time out, my old bike exploded under me. Okay, it was just the inner tube of the back tire, but it impressed the people across the street.

Since then, I've been seeing what I can do with Dad's bike. It's more of a racing bike, with ten speeds and those weird handles that curve down like mountain goat horns. It has no foot brakes, but I can live with that. The real problem is bigger: it's bigger. Specifically, this bike rides several inches higher than my old one. As a result, I need to lean way over to get a foot fully on the ground. I've never had a bike this high before, and stopping it scares me to death every time.

Is this just something an adult biker is supposed to be used to? Or is it a real problem? Any advice from bikers on my f-list would be appreciated.

- Z

Live Long And Oops (short fic, comedy)

2009-05-15T22:15:26Z

Saw the new Trek film. The fiver is coming, but not till I see it again. In the meantime, here's a little thing I just had to write.

MAJOR STAR TREK XI SPOILERS BELOW. THERE WILL BE NO FURTHER AUDIO WARNINGS.

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"Captain Kirk, you've got to see reason!" pleaded Nurse Chapel.

"There's no choice," said Kirk, as the three officers marched resolutely to the transporter room with Chapel trailing behind. "Can't you see? Spock can't endure for much longer. He's got to go through this kal-if-fee, and I won't let him go alone."

"You don't understand! Doctor McCoy, can't you persuade him?"

McCoy put a comforting hand on Chapel's shoulder. "Take it easy, Christine. Remember, I'll be there to make sure nothing happens to them."

"But --!"

"I don't like it either, letting Spock go through some cockamamie ritual. But this is for his own good. It may be dangerous, but --"

"Dangerous?" Chapel was in full panic now. "It's mad! You'll die!"

Kirk grabbed her by the upper arms. "Get a hold of yourself, woman! We're going, and that's that!"

Chapel tried to protest, but somehow she was powerless in the captain's grip. She nodded slowly. After an uncomfortably long interval, Kirk released her and followed the other two into the transporter room.

Scotty was waiting. "I've got the coordinates, Captain. Ready to --"

There was no choice. Chapel desperately tackled the engineer, screaming "I won't let you do it!"

"Stop her!" yelled Kirk. He turned to Spock, who would normally be the man for this job, but it was all the half-Vulcan could do to stand up straight. Fortunately, McCoy was already in motion, hypospray at the ready. Struggling to hold Scotty down, the frantic nurse noticed McCoy too late; with a hiss, the fight was over. She tried to stay up, but with a final "It's not...!", she slid to the floor, inert.

"Sorry about that," said McCoy to the others as he helped Scotty up. "I had no idea she was so worried about Spock. Seems to have made her irrational."

Kirk simply rolled his eyes. "Women."

The distraction taken care of, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beamed off the ship.

*

They materialized in the airless void of space.

"Oh," Kirk tried to say, but the expulsion of the remaining air in his lungs made no sound.

Spock, in his state of uncontrolled emotion, grinned at being the last to die.

*

"And that," explained Kla'rok a hundred years later, "is how we Klingons became the undisputed masters of the galaxy."

His young son was perplexed. "What did we have to do with it?"

"We didn't stop Vulcan from being destroyed, that's what!"

"Could we have stopped it? Did we even know it was happening?"

Kla'rok glared. "The important thing is that as a result, James T. Kirk beamed himself into space thinking there was a planet there. Without him to singlehandedly save the Federation from us twice a year, we conquered the galaxy! None now dare to stand against us!"

"None? What about the Tribborg?"

Kla'rok suppressed a shudder. "They are no threat!"

"But I heard on the news that they destroyed our --"

The young Klingon's protest was interrupted by his own blood gurgling up his throat. He fell down dead, Kla'rok's dagger protruding from his chest.

Kla'rok's wife heard the noise, came to see what had happened, and sighed heavily. "Again?"

"We will get it right next son," said Kla'rok.

- Z

Hell Days (fic, Hell Girl / School Days, comedy)

2009-05-04T22:57:56Z

Yep, I am officially joining the already over-swelled ranks of people who post fanfic on their LJs. And this particular fic is gonna take a little explaining. (For readers of my journal, that is. If you've come here from elsewhere, you already know why.)

I recently became a huge fan of the anime Jigoku Shoujo, aka Hell Girl. While checking out some images related to the show, I came across this one, where Enma Ai is ferrying some guy to hell (this being what a Hell Girl does). The guy turned out to be Makoto from School Days, a show I had already heard of on account of its nice boat. I decided to check out the anime and see why this guy deserved such a fate.

Short of sci-fi, you will never find a more incredibly screwed-up anime than School Days. It's as if a dating sim collided with a train. Needless to say, I loved it. And I see now why some artist liked the idea of Makoto becoming a Hell Girl victim...

...but we all know that's not what would really happen, don't we?

Here's a short crossover that wouldn't let me go till I'd written it. If you haven't seen Hell Girl, all you really need to do is read the bit on "Hell Correspondence" in the Wikipedia article so you understand the premise. If you haven't seen School Days, the fic will mostly fill you in. Without further ado...

HELL DAYS

"I... I never wanted it to end this way..."

Saionji Sekai watched from around the corner as Makoto left school for the day. He was chatting with some girl from one of the other classes. Sekai didn't even recognize her, and that was no longer a surprise. She had lost count of the girls who had set their sights on her boyfriend... girls that Makoto never turned away.

"You said you wanted me. You said I was your girlfriend."

Sekai took a last look at the fateful messages on her cellphone. Makoto had sent them to her while he was still dating Katsura. In retrospect, Sekai knew that should have been a warning to her. If he'd been willing to leave his girlfriend for her, how could she trust him herself? But she had wanted him too badly, ignored all the reasons to stay away. And there had been so many. She had no one to blame but --

No. This wasn't her fault. Sekai put back her cellphone and took out the other... thing she was carrying.

"You drove me to this, Makoto."

The thing looked and felt perfectly normal. Anyone else who saw it would probably not bat an eye. But Sekai knew what it really was -- the overwhelming evil it represented. And more than that, it felt alive in some strange way. Sekai didn't even want to look at it.

She hesitated. It wasn't too late to get rid of the thing and go on with her life. Makoto had hurt her, but could she really do this to him? Wasn't it enough to know he would inevitably regret this life he'd chosen? He couldn't silence the good inside himself forever. Someday this awful phase would end, and then maybe... maybe they could still...

A shock. Sekai winced and looked at her chest. She had felt something. Had it just been a sudden pain, or... or something moving? Was it beginning so soon?

Sekai closed her eyes. She saw the candid shot of Makoto and Otome. She saw the indicator strip that had changed her life forever. She saw the cold, forgotten Christmas dinner on her table.

"No. I can never forgive you."

Sekai raised the thing in her trembling hands and held it before her. Evil and hatred pulsed outward from it, flooding into her mind. The thing was ready. Silently, intensely, it urged her to release it from its fragile chain. I will make everything right, it seemed to say. I will do for you what you dare not do for yourself. He betrayed your trust. I will not.

She blinked the tears out of her eyes. Shaking, she reached for the red string...

"MAKOTOOO!"

...and pulled.

Wind howled around Sekai. In her hands, the blood-red straw doll dissolved and drifted away. A woman's voice filled her ears, saying "I hear and deliver this vengeance."

The wind stopped, and Sekai was alone with the red string in her hands. It was over.

Walking away, Sekai could already feel the regret flooding in. What she had done was unforgivable, she knew. She would hate herself as long as she lived for this desperate act of cowardice. But she could never take it back... and even if she could, she knew she would end up doing it all over again.

"Sayonara", she said to Makoto, wherever he was.

*

Sekai was almost late for class the next morning. Terrible nightmares had haunted her all night... when she could sleep at all. She had nearly stayed home today, but as hard as it would be to deal with others, being alone with what she'd done was worse. She walked into the classroom -- and froze.

Makoto was sitting in his usual seat, absent-mindedly staring out the window.

She blinked. He was still there. After a moment he noticed her and cringed a bit, clearly assuming she was mad at him.

He didn't know the half of it. Sekai ran up to him and screamed "What are you DOING here?"

"This is my class," said Makoto. "Don't make a scene."

She grabbed him by the collar and shook him. "You're DEAD! You're supposed to be in hell!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I pulled the string! I... I..."

Sekai dropped Makoto. He dusted himself off and sat back down, saying, "If you're here for class, better stop making trouble. You're lucky the teacher isn't here yet."

Too shocked and confused to answer, Sekai ran down the steps. Makoto watched her leave, then shrugged and took out his notebook. A cute girl in the front row winked at him. He made a mental note to meet her at lunchtime.

*

"I don't understand. What did I do wrong?" Sekai stared into the mirror in the washroom, trying to make sense of things. Hadn't that girl said the one Sekai hated would be taken immediately to hell? Had she been cheated?

As her mind raced, she noticed something odd about her reflection. What was that under her shirt? Something caught in the wash? Sekai reached for it, but didn't feel anything. She pulled her shirt out of the way.

There, on her breast, was a black mark. A wisp of hellfire in a circle, branded on her like a tattoo.

The mark of Hell Girl.

"I'm going to hell," whispered Sekai. "So why... why is he..."

Bursting into tears, Sekai fell to the floor. How had this happened?

*

"The rest is for you to decide," said the black-haired girl as she disappeared. The surreal vision of sunset dissolved, leaving the real world behind.

"I have already decided," said Katsura Kotonoha. In her hands was the straw doll the girl had handed her. She turned it over, taking a good look at it. It seemed perfectly ordinary in every way... except for the evil power she could feel flowing through it.

Kotonoha had no problem with that. She knew the nature of the bargain she was going to make. And it was exactly what she wanted.

Makoto and Sekai had betrayed her. She had been his girlfriend and her friend, and they had chosen each other over her. Kotonoha hadn't believed it at first -- or perhaps she had simply hoped that acting like nothing had changed would make it so. But there was no use denying it any longer.

Kotonoha wasn't angry at Makoto. She knew he still loved her. It wasn't his fault that Sekai had seduced him. Under the thrall of that wicked, deceitful girl, he was as much a victim as Kotonoha was. There seemed no way to save Makoto from her control. Even worse, she'd weakened his defenses, making him easy prey for the hordes of loose girls at the school.

There was only one way to free the one she loved: Kotonoha would send Makoto to hell. Then she would kill herself and join him. She would have preferred a romantic joint suicide, but she couldn't be sure they'd end up in the same place after death. The contract with Hell Girl guaranteed that she and Makoto would be together forever, away from the sirens who had corrupted him.

"See you soon, my love," whispered Kotonoha, and she pulled the red string.

The doll blew away leaving only the string behind, and the words "I hear and deliver this vengeance" echoed in Kotonoha's ears. She smiled; it was just a matter of time now. She would join Makoto soon, but first she would take her revenge. She would kill herself right in front of Sekai, humiliating and traumatizing the harlot who had ruined everything.

After checking that the sawblade she'd chosen was in her bag, Kotonoha lay down to sleep, dreaming of her future with Makoto.

*

Kotonoha stopped short in the door of her rival's classroom. Sekai wasn't there. But Makoto was.

Had she made some mistake? Kotonoha came closer; no, that was definitely Makoto. She approached him to talk.

"Huh. Kotonoha?" said Makoto. "Aren't you in the wrong class? Don't start following me around again."

"Did anything happen to you at midnight last night, Makoto?"

"Not really. Hey, what's that in your bag? Better be careful, it looks sharp."

"...Yes. Thank you." Kotonoha turned away. This made no sense. She'd pulled the string. She'd found Hell Girl's mark on her body. How could Makoto still be here?

*

Deep down, Kiyoura Setsuna had known it would come to this.

She had seen Makoto succumb to temptation repeatedly before she'd left. Once, she had even been the temptation. Setsuna winced at the memory -- she had never wanted it to happen under those circumstances. When Sekai had begun dating Makoto, Setsuna had given up on her own love for him, but she still felt it.

It had been clear from the start that Makoto would either make Sekai happier than she'd ever been or wreck her completely. Setsuna had hoped desperately that he could keep his word and be faithful. But judging by Sekai's heartbroken messages, the boy they had known was simply gone, carried away in a sea of promiscuity. That reduced Setsuna's options to one.

Sekai's happiness was all that mattered. If Makoto couldn't provide it, he had to go.

Setsuna finished typing a short message on her phone. It was a simple farewell to Makoto -- considering what she was about to do, he deserved that much from her. After a moment's pause, she pressed Send.

She had made sure to do this at lunchtime when he would be able to read the message. She gave him a few minutes to do so.

And now it was time. Setsuna took the string in one hand. Even now, the temptation to turn back was strong, but she closed her eyes and thought of Sekai. This was the only way.

She pulled. When she opened her eyes, the doll was gone. A voice from nowhere said "I hear and deliver this vengeance," and then all was quiet.

Alone in the stillness, Setsuna sat thinking about the friend she'd saved and the one she'd damned. Soon she began to feel something funny on her chest. She didn't have to look at it to know what it was. The horror of her actions began to overwhelm Setsuna, and she stared helplessly at her hands, at the wall, at the phone...

Wait. Was that a new message? Setsuna picked up the phone and read.

"Good to hear from you, Setsuna. Are you okay? You sound depressed. Makoto"

...What?

*

Kuroda Hikari knew a thing or two about Makoto's habits. There were several places in the school he might choose for a rendezvous, and lately it had been no secret that he was having at least one a day. Hikari chose his favourite -- a seldom-used equipment shed -- and hid around the corner to wait.

She wasn't waiting long. Makoto soon came into view with a girl on his arm... looked like Todokoro Ayako. Hikari scoffed. She'd always known that girl was easy.

Hikari wasn't looking forward to what she was about to do. She didn't hate Makoto. But it was Taisuke she desperately wanted to be with, and this was her best chance to make it happen. She hadn't meant to sleep with Makoto; she'd just been so frustrated, and he'd been willing. If she sent him to hell now, Taisuke would never find out about her mistake.

And with a little luck, losing her beloved Makoto would send that bitch Katsura around the bend completely -- getting rid of the competition.

Makoto was reaching for the door. It was time. With one hand on the string, Hikari leapt from her hiding place.

"Goodbye, Makoto! I'm --"

She paused. They weren't looking at her. In fact, they were facing the other way.

"Geez, pay attention!" Hikari gave Makoto a shove...

...and saw Otome on the other side of him, panting with emotion. Between her fingers, a red string fluttered in the breeze.

From out of nowhere came a voice announcing "I hear and deliver this vengeance." Hikari didn't even notice. She stared at Otome, aghast. "You were hiding too?"

Otome looked up, her anger replaced with confusion as she finally noticed Hikari. "You were on the other side of the --?"

Makoto looked from one girl to the other, then back. He was too perplexed to be embarrassed.

Ayako, on the other hand, was just irritated. This wasn't what she'd signed up for. "What are you two doing here? Leave us alone! And -- hey!" she shouted, suddenly noticing the object in Hikari's hands. "Is that another Hell Girl doll?"

"Huh?" Startled, Hikari dropped it.

The doll fell, pulling the red string with it. Before Hikari could let go, it had pulled itself loose. The doll vanished before it could hit the ground.

A deep sigh resonated, and then a different voice said "I hear and deliver this vengeance."

Silence fell as everyone processed what had just happened. Hikari raised her head, horror beginning to overtake her.

Otome stared at Hikari. Hikari stared back at Otome.

Makoto blinked.

As one, they spun on him and yelled "WHY AREN'T YOU DEAD?"

*

Sweat rolled down Sawanaga Taisuke's forehead. His hand was shaking as he held the end of a red string, and he stared at it like it was the only thing in the world.

"He's my best friend," said Taisuke. "And it's my soul we're talking about."

Hikari put a hand on his shoulder. "This is for the best," she said in her most soothing voice. "He has to be punished for how he treated me, right?"

Taisuke didn't answer.

Hikari sighed. "Katsura. He upset Katsura, remember?"

Something clicked, audibly, in Taisuke's head. His eyes narrowed. His grip tightened. Summoning up all his willpower, he yanked the string loose.

"I hear and deliver this vengeance... again," said a voice from nowhere.

The doll dissolved in Taisuke's hands. His willpower collapsed. "What have I done? MAKOTO!" he shouted, bursting into tears. Hikari put a hand around him, cooing something that sounded like "dere-dere".

Otome raised an eyebrow at the emotional display. She knew some boys made strong friendships, but if she were Hikari, she'd be... careful, was all.

On the other side of the table, Sekai turned to Kotonoha. "What's he even doing here?" she muttered. "Didn't he rape you or something?"

"That was not rape," Kotonoha replied firmly. She thought for a moment and added, "But it was very impolite."

Sekai tried to decide how to answer that one, then remembered that she didn't care. She turned to the others. "Well, how many does that make? Nine?"

"Maybe it worked this time," said Otome hopefully.

Her hopes were dashed immediately as Kotonoha pointed to the door on the other side of the cafeteria. Makoto had just entered with one of the Onegai twins on each arm.

"Skanks," muttered Sekai.

Taisuke stared in disbelief. "What's he --? Didn't I just...?"

"We have some bad news for you," said Otome with a sigh. "When Hikari asked you to do this, she didn't tell you that we had all tried it before."

"What? You mean I just gave up my soul for nothing?"

"Not nothing," said Hikari, wrapping her arms around him. "You have my undying gratitude!"

Taisuke screamed and ran out of the room.

"Great," said Sekai. "Now what? We're all out of souls again."

"We'll just find someone else," said Minami, sitting at the end of the table with her two inseparable allies Natsumi and Kumi. They nodded in unison.

"Like who?" spat Hikari, sulking.

Otome looked around. "Nanami!" she called, seeing her friend nearby. "Come sit here. We have a --"

"No," said Nanami sternly.

"Let me finish!"

"You're not just being friendly. You people have all been using Hell Girl dolls, and you're going to ask me to do it. Screw off." Nanami went to sit at a far-off table.

"She hasn't been the same lately," said Kumi.

"Gee, you think that might have something to do with your little voyeur show?" demanded Otome, who had been waiting for a reason to yell at the trio. Kumi cowered behind Minami.

"There must be someone else who would be willing," said Sekai. She pondered. After a moment, she began staring at Kotonoha.

"I hope," said Kotonoha without turning her head, "that you do not intend to ask about my little sister."

Something in Kotonoha's tone, or possibly in her bag, told Sekai this would be a bad move. Out of ideas, she slumped her head on the table.

The girls brooded in silence until the lunch bell rang. Saying their goodbyes with varying degrees of politeness, the others all headed for class.

Sekai didn't go. She was past caring about school. She opened up her phone to re-read the confused message Setsuna had sent her.

The list of phone messages stared at Sekai. Her eyes wandered, as they always did, to the ones Makoto had sent. Anger and heartbreak rose up in her again, now coupled with despair. Even crazy last resorts had utterly failed her.

Or had they? For the first time, a thought entered Sekai's head.

When appealing to dark powers failed... there was always the old-fashioned way...

*

That night in bed, Makoto smoked a cigarette.

"I do not understand," said the raven-haired girl lying next to him.

"Don't understand what?" he asked.

"Why does this happen every time I come to collect you?"

Makoto smiled. She always said that.

He sat back and took a moment to savour the gorgeous view. He knew an inordinate number of cute girls, but Enma Ai was in a whole different category. Her beauty was somehow intangible, unearthly; the black of her hair was deeper than darkness itself. Only her blank, unchanging expression spoiled the picture, but Makoto was used to it by now.

"I have a duty to ferry you to hell," she said.

A few seconds passed. Makoto wondered if this would be the time she was serious.

"But I do not want to," said Ai. "For some reason, I would rather continue these activities."

Makoto grinned. He flicked the cigarette away.

"Which one usually comes next?" she asked.

"Hey," said Makoto with a smirk, "the rest is for you to decide."

THE END

Epilogue

On the street corner, unnoticed by the public, four supernatural beings shared a frustrated silence.

"Again?" asked Hone-Onna.

Ichimoku Ren closed his remote eye and nodded. "Again."

Wanyuudou frowned deeply.

The silence returned.

After a while, Kikuri's annoyance reached critical mass. She threw away the rock she had been using to crush ants and confronted the trio. "Kikuri is bored! Why do we keep coming here? What's that Ai doing?"

The three agents exchanged glances. Each gestured to the others to answer her. Finally, Ichimoku Ren sighed.

"We'll tell you when you're older," he said.

First!

2009-03-21T03:22:13Z

Of the many, many ridiculous things in the BSG finale, one really leapt out at me, and I'm gonna try to be the first one to point it out.

They're giving us an inspiring, hopeful ending for the human species with that last shot of Hera, right? But in that distant-future coda, they found the body of a young girl. Hera died young! Man, nothing depressing about that!

In other news, if you'd like to check out an example of truly mind-blowing lameness, watch the post-finale show on Space. You'll get to see BSG fans who are more like Trekkies than Trekkies, and bargain-bin hosts telling each other they just set the blogosphere on fire. Sweet Christmas!

- Z

Too much confusion

2009-03-20T23:24:39Z

Tonight is the end of an era. Yes, the days of everyone saying "Battlestar Galactica is SOOOO brilliant and so much better than EVERY SHOW YOU LIKE, you herpes-encrusted potato byproduct" will be over after tonight. They will be replaced by the days of everyone saying "Battlestar Galactica WAS so brilliant," etc.

My speculation on the finale is here. Spoilers through last week's episode. And tonight's, if I'm right that Hera is an evil mastermind.

- Z

1929-2009

2009-03-06T07:12:24Z

My grandpa passed away last night.

He'd been in the hospital for the past month after suffering some falls at home, one of which we later found out had provoked a heart attack. One of his legs was gangrenous because of diabetes-related blood flow problems, and the plan at first was that it would be amputated when he was strong enough. But it soon became clear that wasn't going to happen. His heart was failing, and soon other problems began to appear. He held on as long as he could, but two weeks ago a final heart attack left him almost unable to communicate, and all we could do was be with him and make him comfortable. Yesterday, as peacefully as such a thing can ever happen, he succumbed.

Some people would say there's nothing as bad as losing a loved one. Others would say that, as bad as the final moment is, the weeks leading up to it in a situation like this are worse. You try to hope, but you have to be realistic. You know the hammer could fall any day. Each visit could be the last one, and each time you leave, you think of something you should have said, something you may never get another chance to say. Then morning comes, and death doesn't, and you're stuck for another day between hope and sadness.

Some people would say the worst way to lose someone is when you're unable to be there. You're across the country and can't get back in time, or you're across the city and it still happens too fast, or you're just busy and can't get away. You're denied the chance to say goodbye. Others would say that's the merciful way. Far worse to watch a life end, to see someone who was once so unique and human slowly fade away. To get that last goodbye and spend the rest of your life second-guessing it.

Me, I think these are false dichotomies. In math, we like sets that are "totally ordered" -- any two elements can be compared, and either they'll be equal or one will be greater and the other less. Pain isn't like that. There's no scale to rank it on. Neither the loss nor the waiting has to be worse.

I've been overconfident in recent years. I had the great luck to lose only one grandparent before I reached adulthood -- my mom's dad, whom I hardly knew. (He was estranged from us until just months before his death.) And the others didn't seem to be in any danger. In fact, for octogenarians, they were all doing great. I took for granted that they would be there for years to come. Oh, when I thought about it, I knew the worst could happen any time. But I never really worried that it would.

Now Grandpa's gone. I'll never see him again. It's going to take me a long time to process that. "Oma and Grandpa" have been such a big part of my life that I can't picture Oma without him. (That's German, by the way. She was born in Canada, but her family was German-speaking, so that's what we've always called her.) Junji Ito got the idea for Tomie when a classmate died; he felt like it wouldn't be strange for her to just walk in the next morning. I keep catching myself thinking of the next time I'll see Grandpa, then remembering it'll never come.

I take some comfort in the fact that he had a good death. He was 80 years old, an impressive age for a lifelong smoker to reach. The people at the Heart Institute gave him the best possible care. And his wife and sons were always with him in the last few weeks. The rest of us got our chance to say goodbye too; by that point it was hard to tell how much he could hear, but apparently when my youngest brother (whom Grandpa was especially fond of) came to see him, he noticeably perked up. So I can hope what I said to him got through.

"In the midst of life we are in death." It can happen at any time. It will happen at some time. We should all be so lucky as to live a full life and die surrounded by our children and grandchildren; it means the world to me that Grandpa had that chance. And as much as I'll miss him, I have faith that he's not really gone.

But it's still hard to accept that for everyone else, yesterday was just another day.

- Z

Tablet arts

2009-02-28T23:09:18Z

There's speculation that the character who appeared in last week's BSG has an anagrammatic name. (Possible spoilers at that link.)

Well, I can top that. Hold onto your mind, 'cause it's about to be blown.

"Battlestar" is an anagram of "battles tar".

There will be a tar monster in the last episode. You heard it here first.

- Z

February 20

2009-02-21T02:56:08Z

First update of 2009, and it's a new subsite, baby. Or rather, it's the long-awaited relaunch of what has until now been a subsite-in-name-only: Five-Minute Battlestar Galactica. Read the article if you wish, and then feast upon my first fiver of a regular BSG episode: Five-Minute "33".

I'm aiming for at least one fiver from each season in this launch event, and I've already written the next one. Stay tuned.

- Z

Huh

2009-02-02T21:39:16Z

None of my local cable channels are showing the movie Groundhog Day today? I would have thought that'd be a no-brainer.

- Z

Dulce et decorum erat

2008-11-12T00:07:05Z

I just got back from the convenience store, where I bought a poppy. I don't know if this is just a Canadian thing or if it's done elsewhere, but the Royal Canadian Legion (our veterans' guild) raises money every year in November by distributing poppy pins. They ask for donations in return; when I was a kid, 25 cents was customary, but I think it's 50 now, and of course lots of people give more. The poppies are usually bought a few days before the 11th and worn until then. Since I haven't gone out much, I was late this year -- so much so that I can only wear this one for a few hours.

The poppy itself is a reference to "In Flanders Fields", a war poem famous around the world but especially here. It was written by a Canadian soldier, Lt. Col. John McCrae, and we're very proud of it. What makes it especially appropriate for Remembrance Day is that unlike many of its type, it's decidedly not an anti-war poem. The third stanza urges the living to "take up our quarrel with the foe" and warns that the dead will not rest easy otherwise. It's a little chilling, especially if you know it was written during World War I, a war that looks a lot uglier 90 years down the road. But "war is bad" is never the whole story either, and it would be very much the wrong sentiment for a day where we honour our soldiers' sacrifices.

"To you from failing hands we throw the torch -- be yours to hold it high." It's worked that way throughout most of human history. There was a fundamental, unwritten social contract that every generation knew. Their country would give them a place to live and start a family, and would protect them with the rule of law. In return, the able-bodied men had to be ready to fight for the country if the time came; the women had to be ready to lose their husbands, and the elderly their sons.

Nobody liked it, but it was the way of the world -- and on some level it always will be. There's always some chance that things will go very bad very fast. But over the last few decades, in North America, it's become less and less likely. I've never been seriously worried that I'll have to join the army. And it's so easy to forget what an incredible luxury that is. My generation is basically the first anywhere to have it.

That's why I went out and bought a poppy I'll only wear for a few hours. Because thanks to the people we commemorate today, nothing else is asked of me. That's a good thing, and it's not my fault -- but it still shames me.

- Z

Take what's needed, then just let me go

2008-11-08T00:05:47Z

I posted the other day about Norah Jones's "My Dear Country", which is a very creepy election song. But oddly enough, it's not the creepiest election song I know. That distinction goes to Suzanne Vega's "Institution Green".

It's from Vega's third album, Days of Open Hand, which was the first one I got. (Actually, I think I got it and 99.9°F at the same time.) I don't remember for sure how I came across Vega's music, but I think "The Queen and the Soldier" was responsible. I have been known to buy albums purely on the strength of one song, and that one would definitely have qualified. Ironically, the album that particular song is on -- her first -- is the one I had the most trouble finding. I still only have it on tape.

Er, if that. Have you seen my copy anywhere?

But I digress. Open Hand was a thoroughly weird introduction to a thoroughly weird musician. "Institution Green" is typical of the album: slow, strange, mysterious. And although I had no trouble discerning the words, it didn't occur to me for a while what the song was actually about. (I still don't get the title.) Vega perfectly captures the awkwardness of voting: "private people in this public place". I chatted with people at my voting station back in October, both volunteers and other voters, but I wasn't about to say how I was voting... and I was oddly afraid to even think about how they were. The secret ballot is the essence of democracy, but that doesn't make it comfortable.

Check the song out on YouTube. And while you're there, take a moment to appreciate how perfectly that page illustrates one of the great truths of our time: comment threads are the dregs of the internet.

Oh, not my comment threads, of course.

- Z

Good news, everyone!

2008-11-07T04:04:11Z

The good news for me is that I've successfully posted about politics several times in the last few days, and nobody's de-friended me over it. Considering that I'm opposed to all things good and decent, that's a pleasant surprise.

The good news for you is that I've posted several times in the last few days. This would normally be enough evidence to prove that I've been replaced by a Skrull. It's no accident; I'm pissed off, and I'm going to try to use that. Last time something pissed me off as much as this election has, it got me through my Master's thesis just in time. (Then I spent six months in an emotional collapse, but it beats the alternative.) This time I'm going to try to finally get some ideas out of my head and onto the screen, both at 5M.net and this LJ.

Wish me luck, 'cause I could just as easily fall right back into my slump. Never move back in with your parents "temporarily", folks. It's a bad idea on more levels than I can name.

- Z

And the next song starts with "Wake me up when it's over"

2008-11-05T21:39:49Z

[Note: I was about to post this last night, shortly after the results were in, when my connection went out.]

My favourite song on Norah Jones' third album, Not Too Late, is one I didn't like at all when I first heard it. It's her obligatory political song, "My Dear Country". It was a meditation on how she felt before the '04 election, and with lines like "Who knows, maybe he's not deranged", I found it pretty annoying. But the song stuck with me, and I've come to realize it's more thoughtful than I gave it credit for. Musically, it's amazing -- the spooky tune reinforces her theme that Election Day, not Hallowe'en, is the scary thing this time of year.

The song has been going through my head all day (displaced only briefly by "Company of Fools", the most annoying song on Great Big Sea's latest album). I appreciate it today in a way I wish I didn't. You should check it out on YouTube.

Here are the lyrics:

'Twas Halloween and the ghosts were out
And everywhere they'd go they'd shout
And though I covered my eyes I knew
They'd go away

But fear's the only thing I saw
And three days later was clear to all
That nothing is as scary as election day

But the day after is darker
And darker and darker it goes
Who knows maybe the plans will change
Who knows maybe he's not deranged

The news men know what they know, but they
Know even less than what they say
And I don't know who I can trust
For the come what may

'Cause we believed in our candidate
But even more it's the one we hate
I needed someone I could shake
On election day

But the day after is darker
And deeper and deeper we go
Who knows maybe it's all a dream
Who knows if I'll wake up and scream

I love the things that you've given me
I cherish you my dear country
But sometimes I don't understand
The way we play

I love the things that you've given me
And most of all that I am free
To have a song that I can sing
On election day

She's right, you know. The fear has been coming and going all day. I've actually felt a little sick at times. And as I keep forgetting to bear in mind, I don't even live there.

So I'm going to put Norah's theory to the test. I need to watch The Ring 2 again to get the fiver done. Those movies, as you may recall, scare the living hell out of me. But do they scare me more than Election Day? Guess I'll see.

Goodnight, folks. Most of you will sleep better than me, to which I will say only this: enjoy it while it lasts. It'll be your turn next time.

- Z

[I actually did get through The Ring 2 after writing this. The results were mixed. Election Day is decidedly NOT scarier than Samara... but after the movie was over, Obama was still president. Maybe if I find a horror film four years long...]

That does it

2008-11-05T21:28:04Z

I'm $#&@ing moving to Canada.

- Z

Audacity

2008-11-05T00:20:51Z

There have been two US elections since I started this LJ, and I've made a post for each. One was a dumb joke. The other was a comment on the importance of voting which I still think was pretty good. Neither post was really what you'd call partisan.

There's a reason for that. The thing about election day for me -- the reason I don't make a big point of my views like every other LJer -- is that pretty much every time, I'm rooting for all my friends' hopes to be crushed. (I'm in Canada, remember. And university. And the internet.) I don't like being in that position -- who would? So I tend to downplay my politics on the day itself at least.

But here's the problem. This year, for the first time, I want to see some hopes crushed. Not because I'll enjoy it, but because they so deeply need to be.

Let me give you an example. About a year ago, I quotefiled something from the Daily Kos for the first and only time. I don't remember what I was doing there or who said it, but it illustrates a point too perfectly to miss. It went like this.

If Obama Runs...
Fill in the blank:
A) He wins big, ushering in a new era in which both party and race are less important than individuals.
B) He wins small, stumbling into office at the end of a campaign season that paints him as a radical and heightens tensions.
C) He loses, leaving behind feelings that America is still too fixated on race to put a man with either Obama's name or skin tone into office.

Can you spot what's missing? That's right: he loses because America looks at him, looks at the other guy, and decides the other guy would make a better president. That has simply never been a possibility in some of his supporters' minds. Opposing Obama is racism. Disagreeing with him is bigotry.

Let me give you another example. Read this if you can stand it. Here's the key bit:

If Obama loses, it would be easier to live with it if it's due to racism rather than if it's stolen. If it's racism, I can say, "Okay, we lost, but at least it's a democracy. Sure, it's a democracy inhabited by a majority of disgusting, reprehensible turds, but at least it's a democracy."

I'm not the nicest guy in the world, but I absolutely cannot fathom how you could have this much hatred for people you've never met. I can't get my head around it. Maybe there's a situation where I'd hate so many ordinary people that much, but I can't even imagine what it would be.

Keith Olbermann can. Markos Moulitsos can. Stewart and Colbert can. MoveOn can. (Ask 'em and they'll tell you: Yes, we can!) Many of the most important voices on the left have been riding this wave of hate ever since 9/11 taught them how evil Bush was. Maybe that's why Obama has this thrill-up-the-leg appeal for them -- he's the first thing they actually support after years of tearing down.

But it's an illusion. They don't support Obama himself; they support his skin colour (and to a lesser extent, his consistent opposition to the Iraq war -- the one real stand he's ever taken, and it was wrong). It's the elephant in the room, and people have gotten in serious trouble for acknowledging it. But come ON. Does anyone seriously believe Obama would be where he is otherwise? Everybody wants a black president. It would be a great thing for the country. Only a desire that powerful could have brought a campaign this shallow ("Yes, we can"? "We are the ones we've been waiting for"?) within inches of victory.

I'm being entirely sincere, by the way. I'd love to see a black president; all other things being equal, it would be wonderful. I honestly wish I could support Obama. That desire is as strong among conservatives as among liberals -- the proof is in the "Obamacon" phenomenon (prominent conservatives endorsing Obama despite agreeing with him on almost nothing).

But all other things aren't equal. Obama the symbol is fine. Obama the man has no idea what he's doing. His campaign has accomplished two incredible things: making a non-old-white-guy a major party's presidential nominee, and making John Kerry look good. On the few issues where I'm confident I know what Obama would do in office, I disagree with him. On the others, such as foreign policy, the only reason I'm not more worried is that I don't take him at his word. He would find some of his ideas much more difficult to sell to the American people than to his fangirl army.

The Dems now have their hopes up in a way they haven't since 1972. I wasn't around for George McGovern, but I know he had a grassroots movement that was dead certain he would win. I'm not happy thinking about their dismay. But I have a lot more sympathy for them than for the Obama movement, and not just because they were running against Nixon ferpetessake.

Obama and his fans are sailing high with hot air in their sails and bupkis in the hold. They've considered this election a lock for six months, not just because the polls looked good, but because no rational person could possibly choose not to vote for their man. They've trashed Hillary Clinton. They've savaged Sarah Palin. They've done their best to make a joke of John McCain (with all too much help from bitter Republicans). They've even made it clear to ordinary citizens that if Obama approaches you and you fail to genuflect, you're fair game. And all this with no actual ideas, just generic banners of "hope" and "change" -- a thin veneer over the same "anyone but Bush" rage as always.

This attitude does not deserve to be rewarded.

I'm aware that if Obama loses, and that is a real possibility, the last eight years will look like a picnic. Liberals will be mobilized against conservatives like never before. It won't be fun. And as I said, I will take absolutely no joy in seeing people's electoral hopes crushed (with the standard ex-girlfriend exception).

But this time, if it does happen, I won't feel bad about it either.

- Z

Dammit, guys

2008-10-11T06:57:04Z

Look, I know nothing is more trendy right now than telling John McCain he can't use your songs. Apparently being associated with him is some offense to dignity that other politicians, movie soundtracks, detergent commercials, and such have never offered. And I totally understand why aging hippies like Jackson Browne and Heart think that way. It's not out of character at all.

But the Foo Fighters? Arrgh. I thought you guys were cool.

No, I didn't think they were conservatives. I'm not stupid -- popular musicians are liberals until proven otherwise, whether it comes through in their songs or not. My point is that we're only talking about political rallies here. McCain's people don't choose the music in order to imply endorsements from the artists involved. They choose it because people like it. It pumps the crowd up. They also like to go for appropriate words in the chorus, but that's secondary; if it weren't, you could write a death metal song with "maverick" in it and the campaign would grab it.

In other words, if a McCain rally uses your song, it's a compliment to your song. You haven't been swindled into supporting an evil Republican. All it means is that some conservatives like your music, and if that makes you uncomfortable, so should a hefty percentage of the profits from your albums.

(Surprisingly, Obama has got one of these C&D orders too. I think that's silly for the same reason, but it's kinda nice just for balance.)

I have much more sympathy for the complaint that the McCain campaign isn't paying to use these songs. They should, though they're probably not breaking any laws (I doubt they would risk it otherwise). But we all know that's not what this is really about.

- Z

Long, pretentious title here

2008-09-21T12:48:11Z

Y'know, I like Panic! At the Disco. And I like Fall Out Boy. But I gotta say I don't really understand why the band bothers calling itself by two different names.

- Z

Another post with a long first paragraph leading up to a non sequitur

2008-09-19T03:31:18Z

There are plenty of reasons I'm not as fond of The Colbert Report as I used to be. (I'd say the same about The Daily Show, but I never did like that one.) Stewart and Colbert have lost whatever subtlety they once had; they're openly partisan, and that's what their audiences applaud so wildly for, not the actual humour. They depend so heavily now on attacking conservatives that I don't know what the hell they'll do with themselves if Obama wins. By the same token, I've had a prediction for a while that if the Republicans win in November, Colbert will break character -- he won't be able to keep his hatred down.

But as of last night, I have a new biggest objection: the "toss" at the end of The Daily Show is apparently now being written specifically for my ex-girlfriend the Stewart/Colbert slasher.

If you must cater to someone, go back to catering to the MoveOn crowd, okay? 'Cause that just isn't right.

- Z

LOAD "*", 8, 1

2008-04-25T07:15:49Z

No one who knows my full handle will be surprised that I had a Commodore 64. Man, I loved that thing. It was the first computer our family had, and while it wasn't really useful for word processing, it was perfect for the other two big functions of home computers: games and programming. I can't count the hours I spent playing games like Jumpman and Realm of Impossibility with my brother, and I squeezed everything I possibly could out of BASIC 2.0. (I actually toyed with writing a C interpreter in BASIC after I learned that language -- we didn't have a PC yet to compile it on.)

So I'm quick to defend the C64 from slights, but I do keep in mind that it's primitive by modern standards. As such, I nearly gave PC World a pass for listing the C64's keyboard at number 10 on their Worst Keyboards list. It always was a pretty stubborn piece of equipment. But then I noticed this line:

"The computer's anti-ergonomic 2-inch height made it extremely hard on the wrists of untrained typists."

Uh huh. Know why the C64's keyboard was that high? Because, unlike most keyboards, it was the computer! CPU, operating system, the whole kit and kaboodle was in there. It was actually pretty compact under the circumstances -- certainly smaller and lighter than any PC tower. It's ridiculous not to at least mention that.

So bite me, PC World. And if you diss the 64 again, you'd better get READY to RUN. (I'll STOP now.)

- Z

(For more C64-related fun, check out this scamming of a 419 scammer.)

Oh, I believe it

2008-04-17T03:17:32Z

The title has been announced. Mulder and Scully fans, prepare for The X-Files 2: I Want to Believe.

Excuse me a moment.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

(points at title) HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

(points at Chris Carter) HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

(points at people who are for whatever reason X-Files fans) HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Heh heh.

- Z

Brains?

2008-04-04T09:22:46Z

Now, it's not that the event isn't going to be fun. But I think it must be said... this is almost certainly the stupidest thing I've ever done with the site. And I once pretended it was taken over by my evil clone.

- Z