me on my way to your bed.
me on my way from school
me on my way from wearing a shirt to not
me on my way down some vine
me on my splinter game
the laughing fruit – Tomba! 2 (Whoopee Camp – PSX – 1999)
requested by cameos
In the early days of my teenaging, I exchanged Tomba! 2 and fourteen other Playstation games for a $100 discount on a PS2. Smooth move. The only game I regret sliding across that Gamestop counter more is Team Buddies (and if obscurevideogames highlights it, I’ll take advantage of the opportunity to ramble).
But I don’t like Tomba because he’s worth monies, I like Tomba because he was the star of two very weird, artfully-designed and traditionally-difficult platformers. Set in an open world, most of your missions concerned helping people with their little chores and errands (like laundering giant birds) and grappling pig soldiers with a hold that maximized chafing (see the above animation). I regret giving this game up because I only beat it once, and didn’t 100% its many questlines and interwoven stories. That’s the least it deserves.
Okay. I heard this one the other day, but from someone who is normal and did not care exactly what the argument is. “Having sex in the context of the patriarchy is inherently sexist.” I wish I could inform you more so you could shred it to pieces.
Meh. In the context of the patriarchy, you…
This quick Dear Coke Talk update hits me at an important moment. For the past couple of weeks I’ve felt like I’m reaching the end of my rope when it comes to writing about *spooky voice* soooociaaa~aaallll justiiiiice. I never want to see my own tumblr as a chronicle of established cultural racist/sexist moments, I try to break new ground in every post I make. Convincing myself that I’m “learning” when I babble for 2000 words about topics like Shibe memes normalizing violence is a big part of why I do it in the first place (it’s not like I have an audience to sway). I’m at a point where, if I’m honest with myself, I’m hitting diminished returns: the specific topics that compel me are getting too nuanced to be practical for haphazard, non-organized discussion.
The timing makes sense, as most of the faceless tumblrinas I’ve argued with over the past weeks are egalitarians: members of a movement developed in reaction to the extremism of various meninists and feminists, regardless of the moderate tenets of either. It’s hard for me to find a fresher, contemporary shift in feminism… But it’s not like it’s bringing anything new to the table. It actually signifies the end of the line, as its existence is contingent on a crop of nemeses who have taken their respective movements too far. With the egalitarians (practiced as preached), we end up with a movement that respects and enforces reasonable aims on both sides and calls out those off the deep end.
Unfortunately, as far as I can tell, many self-identified egalitarians join the cause because they believe that right now, while we should all be equal, women are making way more trouble than men. Egalitarians and MRAs alike will take Dworkin-esque male-genocidal theoretical concepts like the one quoted and treat ‘em as the Feminist Ten Commandments. This always upsets me, because what’s my response to that? “No, that’s not real feminism!” or, even worse, “you’re taking it too literally!!!”
But Coke Talk gets it. She reminds me that you draw your own lines, that you realize, instinctually, when someone refuses to be thoughtful. That the idea of “all sex is rape” means that humans turned sex into a power play, and not “all women think men are rapists” (that’s where I stare at the MRA/egalitarian side of the room) or “every man is a rapist” (I turn my glare toward the stewing radfems).
I should only fight for my beliefs when my beliefs are challenged, and these days it happens less and less. Perhaps that’s why I’m goading people on tumblr lately: some last, painful gasps from my self-doubt.
Childrens Hospital Africa
Sure, it’s not pitch-perfect, but “I thought you said paprika!” and “No, that’s the sun,” and the prolonged groan as seduction reaction would all make the cut in Childrens Hospital‘s undoubtedly upcoming South Africa spinoff episode. Anyone who even attempts to emulate this show deserves recognition.
This may be a great time to make it clear to anyone, because I think I’ve talked him up enough on my other social meltdown platforms but not Tumblr: Patrice O’ Neal is now one of my favorite comedians of all time. Him and Doug Stanhope are my exciting comedy discoveries from this year. Patrice was honest, deeply honest, he didn’t care at all about what people thought of his act, and it comes through in content (some of the dirtiest sex jokes I’ve heard, all told with depravity maneuvered into the eye of the beholder and not inherent to himself) and behavior (listen in the link to those throaty gasping grunts he looses at some cleavage as he walks onstage). I draw a lot of inspiration from this great these days, and I came across him far too late.
I have been writing stand-up, but I haven’t rehearsed or performed recently. I have no real excuse other than I’m not in a funny mood. It’ll pass, and when it does, I’m happy to sound anything remotely like actual comedians. Hannibal asks the sort of questions I want to ask but he’s better at sounding like an everyman rather than an asshole. I haven’t watched more than a couple minutes of Mulaney’s standup, but I’ll try for more on your recommendation.