J. Random Lurker

Inspired by reading the second volume of the FLCL manga.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2706074/1/

Cowritten with Silver Sands.
AU, set in the alternate future from Dib's Wonderful Life. Slashy hints.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2701948/1/

So yeah, here are my latest half-hearted stabs at picking up a couple of my dangling Zim-fics:

First, a possible third chapter-starter for Crash:

( Read more... )

- - -

And something which I had considered as a continuation of Metanoia but which would probably be better served as a different fanfic all together:

( Read more... )

Sorry, nothing's coming to me right now for much else, and what's here isn't that inspired. I'm about 8,000 words into original character works and they're where my heart and head are really living, for better or worse...

It occurs to me that Keroro Gunsou is the show that Nickelodeon THOUGHT they were going to get by commissioning Invader Zim.

This is not an indictment of either show; you all know how I feel about Zim. But after all the horror stories about Nick wanting Dib and Zim to be nice to each other, etc, etc, it occurs to me that Nick would have had more success by just buying Keroro and dubbing it, if a 'lighthearted comedy about wacky alien invaders' was what they really wanted. I actually would be fascinated to see Nick do EXACTLY THAT with Keroro, mainly because of mad hopes of having the Zim VA's dubbing Keroro, which would make my FANGIRL DREAMS COME TRUE...

I think it's important to clarify this: Keroro Gunsou came FIRST. The manga for Keroro came out in 1999; Invader Zim's first episode aired in 2001. The anime of Keroro first aired April 2004. The anime is merely a sharpened, sped-up adaptation of the manga, so let's put the 'Keroro ripped off Zim' argument to rest, eh? If anything, the accusation should be flipped around.

Now, to the show itself!

( Read more... )

http://news.toonzone.net/article.php?ID=4875


Sadly, unfortunately, hilariously CORRECT. Every word.

Seven ways to ruin American animation- and ViaDisWarFoxWorks has done every last one of them.

I.

Pick up thy staff and walk, cripple
Pick up those bones and walk.
For no man moves but the first step is taken
and of insect trembles are mountains shaken

II.

When I came to the shores of the sea
pale dawn, it stared back at me
I stood a while and stared it back:
the sea, the sky, and all we lack

At times the thrush was broken
At times the hedgerow sank
But I stood iron-clad, alone
And wept and sang and drank.

III.

Carry me, child, to the next portal;
Sing to me, witch, of juices immortal
Bag of bones, hollow stones
Chicken-rinds and mutter-stones-
Make a potent brew- but wait!
Are we sure it's not too late?

Weary, wiry, honed in death
malcius zooning malfobeth
The bitch has cursed us, so let's say:
adieu, adieu! and run this way.

IV.

Tra la la boom de ei
I have no hips today
Tra la la boom de ei
All the stars are blown away
Tra la la




boom

pyratejenni WINS AT LIFE.

Who Bites It: Not even remotely surprising.

Plot: Sounds a lot better in spoilers than it will probably be in actual execution. We all know it'll read something like this:

Blah blah The Dursleys are dicks and Harry blows something up in Abused Teen Rage (tm) and then they cower and someone rescues/distracts/sends a letter to/floo powder snatches Harry back to Diagon Alley blah blah books and robes and crap blah blah Slytherin assholes but not really effective assholes blah blah gosh that girl makes my robe feel tight blah blah something evil happening way off in the background where you can't see it blah blah classes like anyone cares blah blah WHOA PLOT WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM? SHIT! blah blah blah denouement.

(edited: Added a few blah blahs. XD)

Here's another cartoon with aspects that I really haven't seen anyone comment on, and this one might surprise you:

Bugs Bunny Nips the Nips.
Yes, that legendarily racist oh-so-horrible-we-can-never-show-it crown jewel of the Censored 11's aluminum tiara.

Yes, it's violent. Yes, it's remorselessly racist. Yes, it's disturbing.

It is also self-aware, and it contains a strange scene toward the middle of the film that feels far more disturbing than the slapstick violence preceding it, and it's these aspects that I wanted to mention in brief because it struck me as SO very odd that this aspect of the work doesn't seem to have been talked about.

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Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarves is not the best banned cartoon ever made. It's an amazing, energetic, wonderful cartoon, one of Bob Clampett's masterpieces (even better than The Great Piggy Bank Robbery) but it's not the -best- one.

The -best- banned cartoon is Friz Freleng's 1937 short He Was Her Man. Go ahead and look that up on google, I'll wait. Couldn't find anything? Neither could I. The reason? Apparently nobody has ever heard of this one or actually -commented- about it. But this is a lost masterpiece in a way that Coal Black is not: Coal Black is a -good- cartoon.

( Read more... )

( Spoilers and ranting within )

holy fuckin' mother of god, 28 pages of notes from this afternoon's jam session.

Not only am I going to have to write a new bible, I'm gonna have to write a freaking full length book just to account for all the details in the backstory. WHOO!

And yes, there will still be slash. Just not between the mains. ;)

Since my previous post was all bitching about the bad things that happened so far this weekend, to be Fair and Balanced, here's the good stuff.

On Friday, I went to the Chinese Garden here for the first time. When I was first arriving, a dragonfly came and fluttered over my head for a few minutes before zipping away. I looked, but I didn't see any other ones for the rest of the three hours I was there, sadly. I really enjoyed my visit. It was beautiful, so many interesting things to see, and so charming. I loved the little architectural touches, like the grinning stone dragons 'eating' either side of a rooftop, or the stone squirrel that peered balefully at me while I sat at the second floor of the tea house overlooking the gardens and drank rose-tea and ate roasted pumpkin seeds coated in green tea powder. I saw actual pink lotus flowers, stepped through moon-gates, and was scared by the ominous drooping white Audrey-II-like head of a Japanese banana plant that dipped down over the stone walkway.

On Saturday, I saw Howl's Moving Castle. The film was pretty. HOWL was pretty. Ugh, better than pretty. Howl was serious hotness. LOVE the scene where he threw a pissy fit because he wasn't blonde any more. Loved the scene with the stairs to the King's palace. Loved Calcifer. The movie didn't make a whole lot of sense, but it was pretty, and only marred by a 'wtf, where did that come from? GOSH that was convenient!' ending.

After the movie, spent many hours snarking with a friend, walking around and talking about all kindsa stuff. It was good to have a human companion for once.

I bought a new shirt. A shirt very unlike my usual plain black clothes. It's orange and white and black with a funky retro-70's style pattern. Kinda neat.

Dear Random Political Petition-Carrying Assholes on the Street:

No means -no-. If I say I'm not interested, it means I'm -not interested-. Insulting me for 'not caring about my state' and exhortations to 'get involved' in the rudest possible manner gets no desire from me to help you further whatever the fuck cause it is you're pushing.

No Love,
Me.

Additional to Offended Old Men In Coffee Houses:

Go fuck yourself. This is not a library, it's a coffee shop full of people. There are no signs anywhere that I can see on the premises that promise you a quiet reading environment for your oh-so-deeply-literary "Official Magazine of the Sci-Fi Channel." If the volume of my voice bothers you, as I need to talk clearly amidst the voices of others so that my companion can hear me, you have the right to go away and sit somewhere else. Coming over and nearly physically assaulting me and my companion where we sit is a recipe for a punch in the nose or me screaming that you're trying to rape me. You wanna be rude? I can escalate it and be even more rude, fuckwit. Back. The. Fuck. Off. Now.

Even Less Love Than For The Other Asshole,
Me.

/still feeling pissy

Just in case there are any Python fans in the crowd...

http://www.dailyllama.com/news/2005/llama294.html


The history of Monty Python's Flying Circus is often credited to the coming together of two popular British comedy series from the 1960s, At Last the 1948 Show and Do Not Adjust Your Set, both featuring the Pythons before they were, well, Pythons.

On July 26 Tango Entertainment will debut two DVD's featuring episodes of these two series. The announcement was somewhat 'under the radar' but certainly comes as a welcome one to Python fans. Python aficionados have largely been familiar with the series by name only as both have never been available on any commercial medium (save perhaps for a few bootleg videos).


I am SO buying these!

740 words today and it's only 10 am. Whoo! If I can get 1000 by the end of the day, I'll be satisfied.

Your Useless Trivia Fact for the day!

Tea that's caffeinated can be decaffeinated at home (in a pinch) by simply steeping as normal for 30 seconds, throwing out the first cup of tea thus made, and then steeping again. You get a slightly weaker flavored tea this way, but it will remove the caffeine from the leaves and your second cup will be decaf.

You can of course simply buy decaf tea, but there are chemicals used in the process of decaffeination that do remain on the leaves and potentially can get into you. If you're a six-cup-a-day nutball like me, well...

Morning came and went, deep night yielding up to ashen day; a sullen overcast sky opened above the world, hinting of storms.

Dib slept through his first alarm, his second alarm, Gaz screaming at him from the bottom of the stairs, Gaz screaming at him from the top of the stairs outside his bedroom door, and Gaz at his bedside yanking his head off the pillow by his limp, crooked hair-scythe to glare at him up close- even this last brutality elicited no more than a soft groan from the boy.

"So... are you dead or what?"

Dib was not answering, so Gaz yanked off the blankets and examined her brother blandly.

The released air from beneath the heavy covers smelt of damp gauze, musty skin and blood; the bandage had turned dark in places. Dib's tiny chest was moving, though, shallow and ackward.

"nnh. Fine." Gaz released Dib's hair, letting his head thump dully back into the pillow. She left in a cloud of resentment; today she would have to walk to skool alone.

Two minutes later, two spindly metal legs taptapped their careful way around the edges of Dib's bedroom window. Two thin black gloved claws added their grip to the windowsill, scrambling for a hold, knocking over Dib's collection of toys resting there.

With a grunt of effort and the help of his additional pak-legs a very irritated Zim thrust himself into his enemy's room. Zim righted himself and put his hands on his hips. "I thought she'd NEVER leave!"

He frowned at Dib's failure to do what he was supposed to do in turn. He was supposed to leap up, shout things, throw small objects with pointy edges, and rant. But he was just... lying there, pale and wet.

Zim's own ribs were fractured, his burns from the crash were livid and searing in the moist air, but these were meaningless considerations to an Irken Invader: pain was just the signal to work harder!

"Hm." The Irken crept closer to the bed; now it was his turn to push back the covers. He was curious and skeptical; he knew humans slept and therefore Dib must also sleep- and he'd seen Dib sleeping before. From the security of his control chamber, through secret cameras, Zim had watched Dib fall asleep more times than he could remember. But this was a different sort of laying-out-sprawled-across-a-soft-platform, he thought. The face was all wrong, the eyes all squishy and lined and tense as they normally weren't.

Are you holding out on me again?

Prod. Prod. "Dib."

Prod. Prod. "Dib!"

Prod. Prod. "DIB!"

A bead of sweat trickled slowly down the back of Zim's neck. And in him rose a feeling that wasn't quite dread, and wasn't quite despair, and wasn't quite triumph. It was the strangest feeling he'd ever felt- because it was like no feeling he'd ever known. He looked on the ruin of his enemy ... and he felt completely blank inside.

Zim didn't like new feelings. And he especially didn't like it when Dib was the cause of them. The alien shook out his head quickly, antennae flapping in the air. "Enough of your MIND GAMES, Dib!"

He pulled a thin, flat grey disc out of his pak and slapped it against Dib's left temple. He watched as Dib dissolved into threads of light and shadow- and finally Zim felt something recognizable again: a bitter black amusement to see his enemy melt away. Ah, if only it could be as -simple- as that...

A moment later, Zim dissolved too.

The Quest for New Work continues. Went as far as interview; got told 'very nice, good skills, pleasant personality but we want someone else'.

No problem; I'm not really heartbroken about it. I had inner doubts about the place anyway. I am going to keep looking, but being more picky about 'theme' and 'position'.

Meanwhile, gah. I need to revamp (uh, let's try CREATE) my 'proper' website (Maybe I should just gank the code from one of my older sites and rehash... HMMMMM...! *shifty eyed grin*)

I have to shake myself out of this everdeepening lethargy and listlessness. I'm so closed off... any advice?

Have been seeing a few Zim-fics (mostly Senri's) that make me feel... almost nostalgic for going back to talking to those two psychotic little bigheads again. Almost. I'd probably try and pick up on Metanoia out of all of them, firstmost- at this point, with distance between me and the characters, going back to that story would be smartest since it's closest to the original canon-flavor.

I found it interesting also that as soon as I nailed down an outline for my OC's, Dib and Zim started trying to talk to me again. Hm. Still intertwined, are they...?

(Yes, I'm talking to myself with this, really. ;p)

Trailer for Narnia looks good- however, I haven't read the books since like whoa forever. Trailer for Batman Begins looks like FUCKING COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO WITH BATMAN STUFF, so of COURSE I'll be all over that- and mentally smirking all the way if it DOES turn out to be as similar as it looks in some respects, WTF.

200 years ago, we left. Now we're back.

Lot's happened since then. All the things you'd expect from two idiots with free time and a spaceship. Fights, pain, noise; debilitating bowel diseases. We didn't learn a damn thing and we liked it that way.

Why are we here again?

His idea, not mine. I hate the place.

I look at him. The bay lights play off his skin in patterns.

Obsolete.

Him. Me. This world. Everything.

'Do not go gently', they say- well, here we come, ready or not.

We grin and leap and tumble down in flames.