TwiLite: Chapter 9, In Which We Just Sit and Talk In The Car The Whole Goddamn Time

I figured I’d do some more TwiLite, since I haven’t done any in months and I know a couple people like it. Here we go. Chapter Nine is called “Theory” and this is pretty much Meyer’s love letter to the thesaurus, no matter how awkward it sounds. Edward presses his lips into a “cautious line”, everyone talks about “evasions” in their “modulated” voices, and E.C.’s eyes are “engimatic.” None of these things make sense. Edward says he can READ MINDS OHOOHO. But not Bella’s. So she asks if she’s a freak.

Edward can read minds, but he can’t read hers. So she asks. If. She. Is. A. Freak. Why would you even ever jump to that conclusion? That doesn’t make a lick of bleeding sense. I thought Bella was smart. That’s what the entire goddamn book has been telling us, why wouldn’t she jump to the oh-so-more logical conclusion of “Edward can’t read minds, he’s lying, and he says he can’t read my mind because he can’t read FUCKINg minds at all and doesn’t want me to try to test him.” Sure, it’s not true, but I think that’s what EVERY LOGICAL FUCKING PERSON ON THE PLANET WOULD THINK.

Edward drives fast blah blah blah they bring up Jacob, Bella talks about her flirting with JB, I don’tgiveashit, Bella confesses her internet research (wikipedia, totally), Edward screams “GHAJEKR I’M NOT HUMAN BLAEJKRLJfdjka” squids of anger, squids of anger THIS SUCKS. Bella comments, “You’re angry.” No big deal, Edward just screams about how he’s not human, how it can’t possibly not matter that he’s not human, and all Bella fucking Swan says is “You’re angry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” All I want to fucking now is where the hell does this take place? Where do girls just get into the car with strange men, and even when told they aren’t human just say, “It doesn’t matter.” I can’t even comprehend the sheer stupidity of this whole goddamn thing.

Bella questions him on his vamp-hood and basically everything we’ve been told about vampires is a myth. This is sort of awkward, because it seems like all of these things are kinda like… slurs and stereotypes. Edward’s honey eyes wiggle at her, or some such shit, and Edward brings up his diet, but not before telling her that their “friendship” is a mistake. You know what this reminds me of? Bipolar disorder.

I want your pasty, pasty romance.

They eat animals, and they call themselves vegetarians hilarious. Edward compares his diet to living on tofu and soy milk–their hunger is never fulfilled, which is a little bit stupid since I’m sure there are plenty of vegans who don’t go to bed dreaming of bacon cheeseburgers and for the sexual fulfillment of a rib-eye. Edward, in his “velvety” voice that is “compelling” (I’m going to throw up. Everywhere. Seriously), tells Bella about how he gets anxious when he is away from her. Even though they’ve spoken for, if we total it, probably a few hours, this is completely NOT creepy and actually really romantic. Just trust me on it. Edward then groans. And growls. And brays, because they shouldn’t be together. Now hold on, because this part is kinda funny.

Edward asks “You were going to try to fight those rapists? Why didn’t you run?” And Bella says, “I fall down a lot when I run.” WHAT. WHAT. NO. WHAT. Listen, if you are too clumsy to run in a straight goddamn line, you probably won’t be able to take on a couple of several-hundred-pound criminals. Edward drops her off, leaving his “exquisite” smell and promises to see her tomorrow (because he has a paper due. Edward Cullen is a shitty, shitty vampire), but not before making her swear she will not go into the woods (foreshadowing) alone because he (foreshadowing) is not the most dangerous (foreSHADOWING) monster out THEFORESHADOW FORESHADOW FORESHADOW.

The chapter should’ve ended there, but it doesn’t. In fact, it’s only 8 PM, which I figure is a reference to that scene in Airplane! after the montage, you know that bit. She calls Jessica, nothing happens, (literally. There was no point to that conversation, Bella just says she’ll spill all tomorrow in TRIG) , and she goes upstairs with a heavy stupor clouding her mind. But it’s not over yet. Bella declares the three things she knows: Ed’s a vamp, Ed wants her blood, and she’s in love with him. Whoopdy freaking do. Now I remember why I stopped blogging this shit.

igloomccoy@aim.com

Pundit Kitcheners, Convene!

Imagine this. You are battling a massive robot and can’t not possibly hope to defeat him. Your only chance to live is to somehow convince this robot to lay off and leave you alone. How do you do this?

My mistake, Pundit Kitchen, was appealing to EWAdam’s emotion. S/he has no emotion. S/he is not a he, nor a she. EWAdams is an IT and the only chance we have in appealing to this robot is to use cold, hard logic. Facts can’t be debated.

EWAdams: Very few like your LOLs. This is complete fact. PK has posters who have changed their names to reflect their hatred of you. PK undergoes a collective freak out every time your LOLs appear.

Your response to this is that only “neanderthal crypto-fascist xenophobic self-loathing Republicans” hate your LOLs. This is simply not true. Democrats, republicans, independents, libertarians, communists, fascists, socialists, etc. all hate your LOLs.

We do not hate these LOLs because they disagree with our personal beliefs or because we find them morally offensive. This is a gross oversimplification and a shameful defense. We dislike your LOLs because they are condescending. They are preachy. They are NOT FUNNY.

If you insist on making these LOLs, take it to a private blog. We are loyal followers of PK and are tired of seeing your posts. We do not like you. You are not clever nor witty. You are patronizing. This. Is. Fact.

On your own blog, your own followers would read it. Your haters would be confined to PK and free to laugh in merriment over the LOLs posted, haters who, I am sure, will post below with their own comments.

–Igloo McCoy

EDIT: There is a new site for EWA, I’m delighted to announce. Here it is.

Spy vs. Scry

The last few posts got me thinking about my favorite characters and, more specifically, which characters I’d like to have around. Sure, Captain Kirk is great but when push comes to shove, Spock or McCoy is probably the better choice (unless you’re trying to set a new record for most alien “conquests” in a single day).

And a conversation on Omegle made me think about the most popular of the video game characters, and which ones we’d like to see in  important authority positions. I mean, besides the characters that have a very obvious career path (Mario=plumber/doctor/sports star, Pacman=contestant on the Biggest Loser, Peach=Ryan Seacrest), there are plenty of characters that could function just as well in an alien-ridden-hellscape as in a chain supermarket. Come on, you know you’d love to see MacTavish or Bowser counting change.

As for the good doctor Freeman? He'd be the star of a medical procedural show as the cynical genius doctor. Or playing a P.G. Wodehouse character. Or on a sketch comedy show. I'm not quite sure.

So, I’ve started wondering what character from a book/movie/video game/television show etc. would be the 1) best politician, 2) best boss (or teacher, for those still in school), 3) best friend(s, I’ll let you pick a couple for this one because what’s Bert without Ernie), 4) best in a crisis, and finally 5) best game show host–random, yes, but I would really love to see Giles hosting some sort of singing competition.

Leave a comment below about what you think and feel free to add a section 6) of your choice. Or tell me who would be the absolute worse in those positions. My email is igloomccoy@aim.com

The Sidekick and the Mary Sue: A Vicarious Life

So today’s post is going to be about the phenomenon of sidekicks and Mary Sues, as well as how we identify with these characters. First, let’s do some defining. A sidekick is, pretty simply, an assistant. Usually it’s used for heroes, but minor characters and villains can easily have sidekicks. Uniformly, sidekicks are the second-hand man. The hero, even if s/he is incompetent, is the one who gets the credit for saving the day. A Mary Sue is an over-idealized character, the perfect of perfect. The types of Sues vary–from Gary Sues to Purity Sues to Anti-Sues, but most importantly is that the Mary Sue is annoyingly and unrealistically flawless (even if it’s an “Anti-Sue”, when efforts are made to make the Sue completely horrible and bad, she’ll be flawlessly flawless and still beloved. Make sense?).

Generally, Mary Sue is used for fanon characters, but they can be found in canon. For example, Wesley of Star Trek, the Next Generation is generally regarded as a Mary Sue. He was just a kid but saved the Enterprise countless times. Mary Sues are often written by over-zealous fan fic writers who pretty much put everything they’d like to be in one character and insert them into their favorite series. Anyone ever read the notoriously horrible fanfic My Immortal? Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way is pretty much the definition of a Mary Sue. Ebony (or Enoby) is incredibly beautiful and incredibly brilliant, and is strikingly similar to the author’s own presentation of herself. It’s not hard to understand why “author inserts” are often written in. We can’t experience the lives of our favorite characters but we would like to. So we create this great image of ourselves and imagine us saving the day alongside Harry or Picard and falling in love with Edward or Legolas.

Sidekicks can be Mary Sues but it is fairly uncommon. For the most part, sidekicks serve as a way for us to take in the series. For example, would reading Sherlock Holmes be nearly as engaging if we didn’t have Watson? We need someone like us to perceive the data. The narrator can do this of course, but there is something to be said about feeling directly linked into the life of a character. We need the companion to present us the Doctor, otherwise we have no hope of understanding him.

There’s the obvious reason that it wouldn’t be nearly as interesting if it was just one guy, running around and saving stuff, but there’s also the more literary reason–the Doctor is a fantastic creature that cannot simply be presented on the screen. There has to be some window into the Doctor, so that we can understand what and who he is. Batman is the same way. Even without Robin, we have to see him interact with normal people. We can’t relate to Batman. We can’t relate to Sherlock. We’re probably more like Xander than Buffy and would probably behave a lot more like Arthur Dent than we’d like to admit if we were put into a supernatural world.

The sidekick is one of my favorite framing devices and probably the most effective. We like to be engaged in the story, not just told by a narrator or by the unreachable hero. The sidekick tells us what this crazy hero is doing, explains what’s going on as they are figuring it out. It’s why shows that don’t make a whole lot of sense–Doctor Who–do so well. The companion is basically us. Maybe we don’t need to directly relate to a character in order to enjoy the series, but it’s a whole lot nicer when we do.

So leave a comment or email me at igloomccoy@aim.com and tell me what you think about sidekicks or Mary Sues. Or just write some of your best, suerific fanfiction.

Recommended Reading: TV Tropes-all of it, but more specifically the pages on traits of Mary Sues, Encyclopedia Dramatica’s article on My Immortal (venture if you dare)

Pick Your Fictitious Device!

If you could take one thing from the fictitious world, what would it be? Harry’s wand? The One Ring? Spock’s phaser? Holden’s hunting cap? Anyone read Gunnerkrigg Court and dying for a blinker stone? What about a death note, that’s a pretty powerful device, would you want that?

The list of iconic objects goes on. Rowling’s devices are fantastic–the Marauder’s Map, the Remembrall, the two-way mirrors, the invisibility cloak, the Weasley’s clock etc–just because there is a tool for everything and the longer and bigger the universe, the more objects you get to choose from. I’d take a TARDIS, specially if a doctor came included, but I’m sure a load of you freaks are dying for a Buffybot. If you’d like, post a comment about which object you would be the first to purchase or email me at igloomccoy@aim.com

The Sonic Screwdriver: the most ill-conceived Secret Santa gift?

An Open Letter to EWAdams

Dear EWAdams,

I’m a fairly frequent poster at punditkitchen.com (henceforth referred to as “PK”). I know nearly all of the regulars and get along rather well with the majority  of said posters. Like the other regs, I delight in vladurday and am a strict adherent in the ordinal post rule, as well as other internet rules such as #34 and #36. Though us PK-ers may not always get along, I like to think that at the end of the day us regulars stick together and will have respect for each other despite our personal beliefs.

Yes, we PK-ers disagree on many things. Regulars battle trolls, casual posters battle each other. We fight over gay marriage, health care, global warming, evolution, bittertroll’s undergarments, Jane’s sexy librarian nature, and other complicated topics. Yet there is one thing that every PK-er agrees on. And that thing, my dear EWAdams, is our dislike of your lols.

EWAdams, it is clear that you are not a fool. Your lols have demonstrated intellect, nobody is debating that. But we can, most certainly debate over your lols’ alleged humor. EWAdams, I’m afraid that your lols fall on the preachy side of the scale. Please do not get upset or force quit the page, we only wish to help you. That’s right, EWAdams. This is an intervention.

We at PK want you to understand humor. It is a wonderful human feeling, incapable of proper and accurate description. We urge you to study the comedic work of masters such as George Carlin, Jon Stewart, Mitch Hedberg, Chris Rock, Demitri Martin, Jerry Seinfeld, Tiney Fey, Stephen Colbert, Ricky Gervais, Sarah Silverman, Larry David, and Dave Chapelle. There are even television programs to help you out! Flight of the Conchords, The Office, 30 Rock, Saturday Night Live (on second thought, skip SNL), Seinfeld, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Spaced, Blackadder and South Park.

All is not lost, EWAdams. But please, please, please, we beg of you, stop making lols. They are clogging up the front page of PK and literally taking years off of our lives.

Love,

Igloo McCoy and countless other PK posters (who can sign below with a personal message)

An Impassioned Speech By Someone With Diminished Brain Faculties (And Probably A Hint O’ The Retard)

A/N: I present to you the first in a series called The Phillipus Grenald Chronicles. Email me at igloomccoy@aim.com to whine about whatever pisses you off.

“My fellow countrymen. I stand before you now not as a soldier, not as an executive, not as a father or husband, but as a man. As one of you.” I opened my arms, like an embrace. But there wasn’t anything there, so it wasn’t really like an embrace. I was just opening his arms but if there was someone there, like a really fat tree, it would’ve been a really tight, sexy embrace. I continued, “We know the trials of humanity. We have suffered through many miles, hours, lightyears. But I remind us all that what shall we do when confronted?”

“Like the great philosopher Descartes said never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. My men, I will not give up on you. I will not run around and desert you. It is no longer a question of do I want to fight or why do you keep touching me there. It is now a question of whether we can afford to not fight, to cower, to dance silently in the weak shadows of our own minds.”

“Now who will join me, me, your leader Phillipus Grenald, in taking back that which is so rightfully ours!”

The crowd was bonedustingly (that sounds like the right word) silent. Finally, one brave young soldier spoke out. “Are you high?”

A sandy haired lass in a frock most elegant and slutty called, “DO you think this is Braveheart, or something?”

“Wait….Wait did you just freaking RICK ROLL ME?” Yelled a hag-gish looking thing in the corner

“Gentlemen!” I called out. “Gentlemen and lady, do not allow your hearts to be filled with anger and spite.”

“I’m a lady too.” Said the hag in the corner.

I chortled, “Yeah, okay hag.”

“What did you call me?!” The hag was restrained by the soldier. I chuckled and stuck my thumbs into my pockets. THen I remembered I wasn’t wearing pants, so I just stuck them in my boxer shorts.

“Maidens and men and hag, do not allow anger to replace courage! Seek out that noble bead of faith in your heart and journey forth. We shall take to the skies, fly most majestically like a soaring turkey of grace!”

“See, now I’m confused. Because before you were talking about lightyears and now you’re on about turkeys, and I don’t think turkeys even fly.” The young soldier said. He was kind of a dick, to be honest.

“Where does this epic take place?” Said the hag.

“SIlence, you hag!” I shouted, banging my fist on the nearby microwave. “We shall not tarry any longer. THis takes place here and NOW. Err wait, now. No, not then, well I guess it really takes plac eint he future. So like now, but three seconds…. Five seconds ahead. Yeah. Like now. No, like five secodns form the last now which is-”

“You aren’t supposed to do this anymore.” Sighed the beautiful, yet unfortunately skanktastic lass.

“Is it a crime to want to raise up my fellow men? Is it a crime to want to end the evil that exists?TO want to burn with a conflagration so high the heavens will toast the wicked that lives in the apartment below mine?”

“Actually ye-”

“No! I think not! So, I plead, good man, smoking hot wench, strange hag like beast, let us go forth. Let us rally! And first let us smite the bastard forces that reside in the office just down the hall! March forth from the break room and into the office of our dreams!”

“Is this a metaphor or do you literally want to light our boss on fire….”

At that moment, Lady Wensworth entered, holding a cup runneth over with berries. She leapt nearly a fortnight into the air, “What are you doing up there, Phillip!”

I pounded the microwave again, then kicked it, “I am raising the troops!”

Lady Wensworth dropped her bowl full of nuts or yogurt or whatever. “You will IMMEDIATELY get down and pay for that microwave. I don’t want to have to call security again.”

I bowed my head. My fight had ended, only temporarily. Wensworht may have won this time, but she would pay later. I would get to know her weaknesses, in the biblical sense because damn that bosom was heaving ifyouknowwhati’msayin’.

“Saying things in a dramatic voice doesn’t mean I can’t hear them, Phillip. You’re lucky I don’t fire you and have you charged for sexual harrasment.”
I climbed off of the table, which was good because it was about to buckle underneath my weight. I attempted to kiss Lady Wensworth’s hand but she pulled it out from my outstretched tongue. “Lady WEnsworth, I know now that you are good. Your compassion has shown me that you are an angel about the earth, dropped many kilowatts from the heavens above. I shall no longer attempt to mangle your heavenly, perfect orbs of light….”

“Enough about my bosom, Phillip and for the last time, I’m not Lady Wensworth. I’m your boss, you will call m-”

“Farewell, my comrades!” I cried. I marched from the room, gallant in my step. I could hear the applause of my office and companions. In  my head. I continued out the door, into the brave parking lot, and into my majestic carriage.

“Wait, is he really leaving? It’s eight thirty!”

“I don’t think he can tell time, he certainly has trouble with measurements.”

Happy New Years From Creeptown

In the spirit of New Year’s, I decided to post this f*cking creepy video. Enjoy!

Auld Lang Syne was written by Robert Burns, who is pretty fucking famous being as he’s Scotland’s National Poet, which despite being an award most people probably don’t know about sounds really freaking cool. Now the piece is butchered by creeptastic nursery rhyme companies out to make a cheap book and to scare the shit out of children. Go progress!

Jimmy Wales: Certified Genius

A/N: Wikipedia’s asking for donations, and I thought I’d tell you guys GO DONATE. Wikipedia is a really great site, and so I thought I’d write a piece about their founder Jimmy Wales using–what else?–wikipedia as my source.

No one knows for certain when Jimmy Wales was born but it is believed he existed in the time of the Trojan War, a battle between the Durexians and the Trojans, as he is mentioned in Homer’s famous epic Old Yeller, which details the 1945-1980. Wales was actually born as “James Ireland” but after Ireland was sold to the Welsh, his family changed their names.

James was a very good student and would’ve gotten all As. However, this was before the letter “A” was added to the alphabet so he only got Bs. After graduating from high school, James discovered his gift at making candles out of bugs. His favorite thing to do was make long wicks out of centipedes, which he called “Wikipedes.” This was how he came up with his invention in 1985, Wikipedia.

Wikipedia was a long process. At first, James simply wrote up a series of notebooks. Each notebook came with an attached pen and they were distributed throughout his village. People would find the correct topic and fill up the notebooks with everything they knew. The system did not work out well–the few books that were returned were full of false facts or even vandalized. And sometimes with bodily fluids. The really bad kind.

After the internet was discovered in the basement of an old antebellum manor, James scanned the notebooks onto one internet and began the project we now know and love, WIKIPEDIA.

P.S. Best thing I’ve seen on Wikipedia is this “Originally an Internet-forwarded crime against music, it was forwarded to a member of the Christian vocal group NewSong in 1996.”

Quick, Update your Facebook Status!

I don’t get why people have to make their facebook statuses perfectly align with their lives. People already complain about the “eating breakfast” posts, but what I reallllly don’t get are the laundry lists of details. For example: “school, softball practice, homework, Jessica’s house txxxxxt” or “woke up, did some hw, so tired! now im going to go chew off my own feet/do laundry/some inanebullshittask”

Listen everyone: these posts clog up my news feed. When I’m trying to stalk the kid in my bio class so that I can “accidently” run into him at his music performance or art show, I don’t need these posts cluttering up my feed.

Our world is becoming increasingly exhibitionistic. We take dozens of pictures of ourselves and post them online, hoping someone will make a comment. We write up our “about mes” to perfectly reflect who we believe we are as a person. We update our statuses to tell people where we are going, who we are hanging out with.

Sure, some of these things might be for ourselves. We like to look back at photographs to see what we have done, we like to see our favorite things listed out in front of us, we like to go back and see what we did on one day. But most of it is just vanity. Nobody posts “seeing Jan tonight!” for themselves. They aren’t reminding themselves, they’re telling other people: I HAVE FRIENDS.

Come on guys. Admit it to yourself. You don’t post “I love YoU <3333″ on your friend’s wall or say “omg i have such huge drama about FAKENICKNAME” for yourself. You do it so that other people can see it. So that they can see that you have friends, or some sort of romantic entanglement, or are really popular.  And when you’re confronted, don’t deny it. Own up to it.

Confess you’re an egomaniac! I have!