These are the cookies my friends made me for my birthday.Bishounen + cookies. Bishounen you can eat.
Too awesome!
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Twilight Bashing
I think I have just run across too many of those, “why this books sucks essays” because I am getting fed up with the Twilight bashing.
Let me preface this by saying, I am not a Twihard. However, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that the series does have a certain charm – and I love vampires. If the novels were completely bad then it would be impossible to hone in on any one aspect that needed improvement. Since the essence of the novel is solid, the areas that need work stand out.
I have already written about the problems I have with the Twilight series. You can read about it here.
From what I have observed, Twi-haters fall into two categories, those who read the novels and those who didn’t. Let me just briefly address the latter.
There are always people who dislike something simply because it’s popular. Twilight is no exception. I was at a party recently and Twilight came up in the conversation. The young man I was chatting with jokingly told me he had made it his life’s mission to have nothing to do with Twilight. He was exaggerating for dramatic effect of course, but not by much. This is an attitude I see with a lot of people.
“Did you read the books,” I ask the random Twi-hater. “Did you see the movies?”
The answer is always “no,” and they usually follow up with, “It looks stupid.”
Well, that’s just plain silly. Hugh Laurie looks stupid, that doesn’t make him so. (I say that with great respect. I adore Hugh Laurie. I think he’s brilliant and talented – but, c’mon, he looks like a bug eyed twit.) I dismiss anyone who claims to not like something because “everyone likes it.” I fall into that trap myself. If something is too popular I tend to ignore it. But I have never claimed to dislike something I have never experienced.
Of those who have read the novels, one of the top arguments is, “Twilight is not as good as Harry Potter.” Just for the record, I agree. But, why should it be? Why are we inviting a comparison anyway? I don’t recall Stephanie Meyer and J.K. Rowling entering a best written teen fiction novel contest. Yes, Meyer’s isn’t as sophisticated a writer as Rowling but Rowling isn’t as good as David Sedaris. Just because the books belong to the same genre comparing them against each other doesn’t make sense, nor does it prove anything. They were never in competition. Neither Meyer nor Rowling set out to become the next “it” writer. They simply had a story to tell and they told it the best way they could.
Another illogical Twi-hater argument is, “Twilight is bad because Bella is a Mary-Sue.” My response to that is, so what? Creating a cookie cutter character is perfect in some instances - for example, Tintin. Tintin is one of the most beloved comic characters of all time and he is a complete self-insert of the author. He doesn’t have a favorite food, an eye color or even a last name. That format works for Tintin and it works for Twilight too. Bella is mean to be the “every girl” character in a romance novel. And Meyer does describe Bella, just not with any great detail. (By the way, for you comparison lovers Rowling didn’t tell us Malfoy was blonde until book three.) The details of Bella’s hair, face, eyes, etc. is not important to the story. In fact, the less said about Bella’s physical appearance, the better. The point of romance novels is escapism. If Bella was described down to the last atom then the audience would have a more difficult time imagining themselves in her shoes. Edward, the object of her affection, is described in great detail. We know that Meyer understands how to paint a picture. With Bella she consciously chooses not to do so.
Another unfounded Twi-hater argument is the “sparkly vampire” bash. People love to point out how un-vampire like, and thus how not dangerous the vampires in Twilight are. Sparkly vampires just “make it stupid.” Hold the phone here kids. How exactly are the vamps not dangerous – or did I read a different novel? The whole latter half of the book is devoted to escaping a group of crazed vampires. I can’t speak for anyone else but James, Victoria and Laurent seemed awful dangerous to me. In the second novel, Bella cuts her finger and Jasper Cullen, her boyfriend’s brother (of sorts) has to be physically restrained from ripping her apart. If you were in Bella’s place and someone you trusted came after you, to eat you… yeah, that’s scary. There is plenty of dangerous vampire action going on. Anyone remember the Volturi? They didn’t play a big role but they certainly did their fair share of eating and torturing helpless victims. Just because the vampires bounce light like a brilliant cut diamond it doesn’t make them less dangerous. In fact, vampires that can go out in the day and sparkle like jewels seem far more dangerous to me than distorted, fetid, monsters in lurking the darkness. Think about it, who are you less likely to run away screaming from?
The last and most valid argument is that the writing in Twilight isn’t great. Okay, Meyer’s writing has flaws, but unless I missed something, Twilight was her first novel.
“I could write a better story than that,” just about every Twi-hater claims.
Okay, then do it.
Writing is not easy, folks. Like anything else, it comes more naturally to some than others. As a first novel, Meyer really did a bang-up job. She offered us a heartfelt, romantic piece that people across the board can enjoy.
And given the sheer number of people who do enjoy it, she must have done something right.
So give the sparkly vamps a break guys. Let’s talk about why we like Twilight for a change.
Let me preface this by saying, I am not a Twihard. However, I would be lying if I didn’t admit that the series does have a certain charm – and I love vampires. If the novels were completely bad then it would be impossible to hone in on any one aspect that needed improvement. Since the essence of the novel is solid, the areas that need work stand out.
I have already written about the problems I have with the Twilight series. You can read about it here.
From what I have observed, Twi-haters fall into two categories, those who read the novels and those who didn’t. Let me just briefly address the latter.
There are always people who dislike something simply because it’s popular. Twilight is no exception. I was at a party recently and Twilight came up in the conversation. The young man I was chatting with jokingly told me he had made it his life’s mission to have nothing to do with Twilight. He was exaggerating for dramatic effect of course, but not by much. This is an attitude I see with a lot of people.
“Did you read the books,” I ask the random Twi-hater. “Did you see the movies?”
The answer is always “no,” and they usually follow up with, “It looks stupid.”
Well, that’s just plain silly. Hugh Laurie looks stupid, that doesn’t make him so. (I say that with great respect. I adore Hugh Laurie. I think he’s brilliant and talented – but, c’mon, he looks like a bug eyed twit.) I dismiss anyone who claims to not like something because “everyone likes it.” I fall into that trap myself. If something is too popular I tend to ignore it. But I have never claimed to dislike something I have never experienced.
Of those who have read the novels, one of the top arguments is, “Twilight is not as good as Harry Potter.” Just for the record, I agree. But, why should it be? Why are we inviting a comparison anyway? I don’t recall Stephanie Meyer and J.K. Rowling entering a best written teen fiction novel contest. Yes, Meyer’s isn’t as sophisticated a writer as Rowling but Rowling isn’t as good as David Sedaris. Just because the books belong to the same genre comparing them against each other doesn’t make sense, nor does it prove anything. They were never in competition. Neither Meyer nor Rowling set out to become the next “it” writer. They simply had a story to tell and they told it the best way they could.
Another illogical Twi-hater argument is, “Twilight is bad because Bella is a Mary-Sue.” My response to that is, so what? Creating a cookie cutter character is perfect in some instances - for example, Tintin. Tintin is one of the most beloved comic characters of all time and he is a complete self-insert of the author. He doesn’t have a favorite food, an eye color or even a last name. That format works for Tintin and it works for Twilight too. Bella is mean to be the “every girl” character in a romance novel. And Meyer does describe Bella, just not with any great detail. (By the way, for you comparison lovers Rowling didn’t tell us Malfoy was blonde until book three.) The details of Bella’s hair, face, eyes, etc. is not important to the story. In fact, the less said about Bella’s physical appearance, the better. The point of romance novels is escapism. If Bella was described down to the last atom then the audience would have a more difficult time imagining themselves in her shoes. Edward, the object of her affection, is described in great detail. We know that Meyer understands how to paint a picture. With Bella she consciously chooses not to do so.
Another unfounded Twi-hater argument is the “sparkly vampire” bash. People love to point out how un-vampire like, and thus how not dangerous the vampires in Twilight are. Sparkly vampires just “make it stupid.” Hold the phone here kids. How exactly are the vamps not dangerous – or did I read a different novel? The whole latter half of the book is devoted to escaping a group of crazed vampires. I can’t speak for anyone else but James, Victoria and Laurent seemed awful dangerous to me. In the second novel, Bella cuts her finger and Jasper Cullen, her boyfriend’s brother (of sorts) has to be physically restrained from ripping her apart. If you were in Bella’s place and someone you trusted came after you, to eat you… yeah, that’s scary. There is plenty of dangerous vampire action going on. Anyone remember the Volturi? They didn’t play a big role but they certainly did their fair share of eating and torturing helpless victims. Just because the vampires bounce light like a brilliant cut diamond it doesn’t make them less dangerous. In fact, vampires that can go out in the day and sparkle like jewels seem far more dangerous to me than distorted, fetid, monsters in lurking the darkness. Think about it, who are you less likely to run away screaming from?
The last and most valid argument is that the writing in Twilight isn’t great. Okay, Meyer’s writing has flaws, but unless I missed something, Twilight was her first novel.
“I could write a better story than that,” just about every Twi-hater claims.
Okay, then do it.
Writing is not easy, folks. Like anything else, it comes more naturally to some than others. As a first novel, Meyer really did a bang-up job. She offered us a heartfelt, romantic piece that people across the board can enjoy.
And given the sheer number of people who do enjoy it, she must have done something right.
So give the sparkly vamps a break guys. Let’s talk about why we like Twilight for a change.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Stinking Bugs
As some of you already know, there is a pest control problem in my apartment in Atlanta. For weeks my sister and I have been battling invisible blood suckers. It’s exhausting – especially for me. For every one bite my sister receives I get about ten. The bugs prefer me. Perhaps it’s because they know I hate them more.
For whatever reason, I have had to take some extreme measures in the past few weeks, taping my ankles before bed (they love my ankles), tucking in my shirt, and even wearing long sleeves on a hot Georgia night. They got me anyway, but by golly I made them work for it!
At any rate, I was extra thrilled this year to come home and celebrate the holidays. Ten days in a bug free house! What bliss! No more bandages, no more itching and no more waking up in the night with that creepy crawling feeling. You know what I mean. The feeling that wakes you up at 1 AM because you know they’re crawling on you right now.
One eight hour drive later, we were home. I went to my room to drop off my suitcase when I heard a quiet yet distinct buzzing sound. I was certain it was my imagination; after all I had just left Bug Central. This was a safe zone - a bug free zone.
Or so I thought.
The very first night a nasty looking bug dive bombed me in bed. I screamed and bolted for my mom’s bedroom (as any self respecting grown-up would do.) My mom told me not to worry - it was just a harmless stink bug. I insisted that the bug was somehow “after me” in the same undeterred yet motiveless way that the monsters from horror films are always “after you” as soon as you shut off the TV.
Or maybe that’s just me.
But my mom was confident that the bugs had not randomly fixated on me.
“They’re everywhere this year,” she assured me.
We caught the bug and released it outside. I decided not to let this bother me. I was home and I wanted to relax. I shut the lights and curled up in my bed.
I was just on the edge of sleep when I heard the buzzing sound. Naturally I flipped out and got up. Being the brave, mature adult I am, I ran to my sister’s room in a panic. (My mom was already asleep and thus unavailable.) My ever dutiful sister got out of bed and volunteered to help me hunt down the bug menace.
After a brief search we found a couple of bugs sitting on the window sill. We opened the window and let them fly out. Now, I was exhausted. Being woken up just as I am about to falls asleep always leaves me very drained, plus bug hunting is stressful work. I fell asleep right away.
The next night, I checked the window sill and everything seemed clear. I shut the lights slipped under the covers. About ten second later I heard the dreaded buzzing. Being the sophisticated woman I am, I ran to my sister’s room. By all rights my sister should have been annoyed but she’s a fighter. The bugs had come back after she had kicked them out – now it was personal. She grabbed a flash light and we searched the room. After finding nothing, I decided to check the window again. Perhaps they were behind the curtain? They were. To my horror, clinging behind the navy blue curtain were at least eight fat stink bugs. I lost it. I dashed to the other side of the room and started, not screaming per say, but declaring in a high register that I hated bugs.
It’s not as if I was actually attempting to impart information on anyone. It’s just when you find eight fat stink bugs behind your curtains you’re obliged to hop up and down screaming, “oh my god, hate them, I hate them, I hate them so much!”
My sister’s generous nature had worn off. She crushed, smashed and drowned all the bugs – there were just too many to save, she insisted. One by one the bugs were uncovered and executed.
Even after the curtain was spotless (checked and double checked) there was no way I was going to sleep in that room – the bug room. So my sister begrudgingly let me bunk with her.
A couple of days passed peacefully.
One night, while sitting on my bed reading an old marine biology textbook (don’t ask), I got dive bombed by another bug. It bounced on my head, got briefly caught in my hair, and then landed on my nightstand. After screaming bloody murder and violently shaking my head like a crazed heavy metal drummer on speed, I ran off to get my sister. She wrapped the bug in a Kleenex and flushed him to his doom. My mom told me not to worry.
“They’re everywhere this year,” she reminded me.
Ironically, I had only found two other bugs in the entire house. The bug count in my room was 10+. Perhaps it was their headquarters.
After the bug was introduced to the toilet I went straight to bed. My stomach had been hurting the entire day and I was eager to sleep away the pain.
Around 1 AM I woke up. My stomach was on fire. Waves of nausea assaulted me. I ran to the bathroom and proceeded to become very ill. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me and my faithful body was doing her best to get rid of it as fast as possible. When I left the bathroom around 2:30 I was in tears. There wasn’t a single part of my body that wasn’t in pain.I cried myself to sleep.
At 5 AM I woke up and got sick again. This time I couldn’t go back to sleep. I came out of the bathroom light headed and weak. I curled up in the bed miserable. My head was pounding, my throat was burning, my stomach was on fire, even my lower back was in agony. I didn’t think I could feel any worse.
Then I heard it. Buzzing.
I couldn’t move, I was too weak and in too much pain. And yet, for the first time I wasn’t afraid of the bugs. As soon as I could move again I swore I was going to find an army issue flame thrower and roast the little bastards alive. Oh how glorious it would be! Me, standing there, with black paint and camouflage holding a flame thrower twice my height. Perhaps I would say something clever, “die you buggers,” or perhaps I would say nothing before I squeezed the trigger. The bugs would make a shrill little squeal before exploding like overdone popcorn. I would laugh. It would be glorious.
Suddenly, the retard-tastic exterminator from Atlanta popped into my head.
“There are serious psychological consequences to a pest infestation,” he had warned me.
Of course, I had not taken him seriously. Who would?
“He’s nuts,” I told my sister after he was out of earshot. “No one goes loopy because of a few bugs.”
As I lay there dreaming about fricasseeing my room invaders I wasn’t laughing manically, but if I could have, I would have.
For whatever reason, I have had to take some extreme measures in the past few weeks, taping my ankles before bed (they love my ankles), tucking in my shirt, and even wearing long sleeves on a hot Georgia night. They got me anyway, but by golly I made them work for it!
At any rate, I was extra thrilled this year to come home and celebrate the holidays. Ten days in a bug free house! What bliss! No more bandages, no more itching and no more waking up in the night with that creepy crawling feeling. You know what I mean. The feeling that wakes you up at 1 AM because you know they’re crawling on you right now.
One eight hour drive later, we were home. I went to my room to drop off my suitcase when I heard a quiet yet distinct buzzing sound. I was certain it was my imagination; after all I had just left Bug Central. This was a safe zone - a bug free zone.
Or so I thought.
The very first night a nasty looking bug dive bombed me in bed. I screamed and bolted for my mom’s bedroom (as any self respecting grown-up would do.) My mom told me not to worry - it was just a harmless stink bug. I insisted that the bug was somehow “after me” in the same undeterred yet motiveless way that the monsters from horror films are always “after you” as soon as you shut off the TV.
Or maybe that’s just me.
But my mom was confident that the bugs had not randomly fixated on me.
“They’re everywhere this year,” she assured me.
We caught the bug and released it outside. I decided not to let this bother me. I was home and I wanted to relax. I shut the lights and curled up in my bed.
I was just on the edge of sleep when I heard the buzzing sound. Naturally I flipped out and got up. Being the brave, mature adult I am, I ran to my sister’s room in a panic. (My mom was already asleep and thus unavailable.) My ever dutiful sister got out of bed and volunteered to help me hunt down the bug menace.
After a brief search we found a couple of bugs sitting on the window sill. We opened the window and let them fly out. Now, I was exhausted. Being woken up just as I am about to falls asleep always leaves me very drained, plus bug hunting is stressful work. I fell asleep right away.
The next night, I checked the window sill and everything seemed clear. I shut the lights slipped under the covers. About ten second later I heard the dreaded buzzing. Being the sophisticated woman I am, I ran to my sister’s room. By all rights my sister should have been annoyed but she’s a fighter. The bugs had come back after she had kicked them out – now it was personal. She grabbed a flash light and we searched the room. After finding nothing, I decided to check the window again. Perhaps they were behind the curtain? They were. To my horror, clinging behind the navy blue curtain were at least eight fat stink bugs. I lost it. I dashed to the other side of the room and started, not screaming per say, but declaring in a high register that I hated bugs.
It’s not as if I was actually attempting to impart information on anyone. It’s just when you find eight fat stink bugs behind your curtains you’re obliged to hop up and down screaming, “oh my god, hate them, I hate them, I hate them so much!”
My sister’s generous nature had worn off. She crushed, smashed and drowned all the bugs – there were just too many to save, she insisted. One by one the bugs were uncovered and executed.
Even after the curtain was spotless (checked and double checked) there was no way I was going to sleep in that room – the bug room. So my sister begrudgingly let me bunk with her.
A couple of days passed peacefully.
One night, while sitting on my bed reading an old marine biology textbook (don’t ask), I got dive bombed by another bug. It bounced on my head, got briefly caught in my hair, and then landed on my nightstand. After screaming bloody murder and violently shaking my head like a crazed heavy metal drummer on speed, I ran off to get my sister. She wrapped the bug in a Kleenex and flushed him to his doom. My mom told me not to worry.
“They’re everywhere this year,” she reminded me.
Ironically, I had only found two other bugs in the entire house. The bug count in my room was 10+. Perhaps it was their headquarters.
After the bug was introduced to the toilet I went straight to bed. My stomach had been hurting the entire day and I was eager to sleep away the pain.
Around 1 AM I woke up. My stomach was on fire. Waves of nausea assaulted me. I ran to the bathroom and proceeded to become very ill. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me and my faithful body was doing her best to get rid of it as fast as possible. When I left the bathroom around 2:30 I was in tears. There wasn’t a single part of my body that wasn’t in pain.I cried myself to sleep.
At 5 AM I woke up and got sick again. This time I couldn’t go back to sleep. I came out of the bathroom light headed and weak. I curled up in the bed miserable. My head was pounding, my throat was burning, my stomach was on fire, even my lower back was in agony. I didn’t think I could feel any worse.
Then I heard it. Buzzing.
I couldn’t move, I was too weak and in too much pain. And yet, for the first time I wasn’t afraid of the bugs. As soon as I could move again I swore I was going to find an army issue flame thrower and roast the little bastards alive. Oh how glorious it would be! Me, standing there, with black paint and camouflage holding a flame thrower twice my height. Perhaps I would say something clever, “die you buggers,” or perhaps I would say nothing before I squeezed the trigger. The bugs would make a shrill little squeal before exploding like overdone popcorn. I would laugh. It would be glorious.
Suddenly, the retard-tastic exterminator from Atlanta popped into my head.
“There are serious psychological consequences to a pest infestation,” he had warned me.
Of course, I had not taken him seriously. Who would?
“He’s nuts,” I told my sister after he was out of earshot. “No one goes loopy because of a few bugs.”
As I lay there dreaming about fricasseeing my room invaders I wasn’t laughing manically, but if I could have, I would have.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
God is a Twilight Fan
My sister and I are headed home tomorrow so, as such, we have no food in the house. Being Turkish, we have to have tea with breakfast. So, we decided to go to Wholefood and get some breakfast items that go well with tea. Sis got a bran muffin and I got a baguette.
We came home and poured the tea. As I was slicing the baguette with my favorite black ceramic knife (the one I adore because it’s just so sharp) I noticed that the bread was grainy. In fact, I noticed that it was wheat. Unfortunately the second I noticed that the baguette was wheat my brain forgot to move my finger away from the knife. Apparently slicing a wheat baguette is an automatic action but moving your finger away from a razor sharp ceramic blade isn’t. So, as you can image, I sliced my finger.
As I watched the blood dripping out of my finger and pooling onto the floor I had several thoughts at once.
The first one was, “See, this is why I don’t like wheat bread!”
The second was, “Gee I should clean the knife.”
The third was a little more specific. Yesterday I was on Tumblr and someone had blogged a couple of screen-caps from the Twilight parody. There were two images, one of the parody Bella with her finger cut and gushing blood everywhere, the second of the vampire (Jasper) tucking a napkin into his collar and holding up a fork and knife. When I saw that picture I though, “idiot, no one really ever cuts themselves like that.”
So, as I stood there in shock the pool of blood growing larger, I thought, “God must be a Twilight fan.”
We came home and poured the tea. As I was slicing the baguette with my favorite black ceramic knife (the one I adore because it’s just so sharp) I noticed that the bread was grainy. In fact, I noticed that it was wheat. Unfortunately the second I noticed that the baguette was wheat my brain forgot to move my finger away from the knife. Apparently slicing a wheat baguette is an automatic action but moving your finger away from a razor sharp ceramic blade isn’t. So, as you can image, I sliced my finger.
As I watched the blood dripping out of my finger and pooling onto the floor I had several thoughts at once.
The first one was, “See, this is why I don’t like wheat bread!”
The second was, “Gee I should clean the knife.”
The third was a little more specific. Yesterday I was on Tumblr and someone had blogged a couple of screen-caps from the Twilight parody. There were two images, one of the parody Bella with her finger cut and gushing blood everywhere, the second of the vampire (Jasper) tucking a napkin into his collar and holding up a fork and knife. When I saw that picture I though, “idiot, no one really ever cuts themselves like that.”
So, as I stood there in shock the pool of blood growing larger, I thought, “God must be a Twilight fan.”
Friday, December 16, 2011
Worst Professional Ever
So we have been having trouble with some sort of pest in the apartment. I have gotten so many bites now that my legs looks like I ran into a cactus.
Anyway, we called a pest control professional (and I use that term loosely) to come and examine the house. After checking the bed for a span of 5 seconds he proudly announced it wasn't bed bugs. I knew that. I told him over the phone it wasn't bed bug or chiggers. He asked me what chiggers were.
That should have been a clue.
At any rate, I showed him the little bug we found on the bed. He had a good hard look (with a flashlight and a magnifying glass.) After a few second of "ohhhh...." he asked where we had been lately - if we had been overseas. I said we hadn't. He told us that bugs can hitch rides on luggage. He looked nervous.
Still no word of which bug - I guess it's a bug with a passport.
I hiked up my pants leg to show him the bites. After a brief moment of shock, he exclaimed, "wow! Look at that!" He didn't examine the bites or ask me anything about them. He just seemed impressed with the bug.
He went on to inform us that all the pest control products they used were natural, "All green," he said. When I asked for specifics he just repeated that they were "all green." I asked again about the safety. Were they okay around cats? He offered us a discount.
Okay, now I was getting nervous.
But I was also getting pretty fed up. In a moment of drama, I told him he had to do something or I was going to go nuts.
The exterminator became very serious.
"There are very real psychological problems associated with a pest infestation," he said solemnly. He told us of a doctor (not one he knew or could name) that, after he had retired, began to find bugs everywhere. He even started to find bugs on his wife.
How this illustrated anything other than the debatable sanity of a supposedly real man, was beyond me.
But the exterminator had psyched himself out. He started to itch. He made a joke that he was getting them. As he slowly edged his way to the front door, he randomly decided to inform us that he had failed his certification test. Apparently he had missed a question and had filled in all the bubbles wrong after that point. He asked if we had ever done anything so stupid.
Aside from hiring him, nothing came to mind.
Then, after a short and thoroughly unrelated discussion about South Africa he left.
I don't think I'm going to get any sleep tonight over the sound of the bug laughing.
Anyway, we called a pest control professional (and I use that term loosely) to come and examine the house. After checking the bed for a span of 5 seconds he proudly announced it wasn't bed bugs. I knew that. I told him over the phone it wasn't bed bug or chiggers. He asked me what chiggers were.
That should have been a clue.
At any rate, I showed him the little bug we found on the bed. He had a good hard look (with a flashlight and a magnifying glass.) After a few second of "ohhhh...." he asked where we had been lately - if we had been overseas. I said we hadn't. He told us that bugs can hitch rides on luggage. He looked nervous.
Still no word of which bug - I guess it's a bug with a passport.
I hiked up my pants leg to show him the bites. After a brief moment of shock, he exclaimed, "wow! Look at that!" He didn't examine the bites or ask me anything about them. He just seemed impressed with the bug.
He went on to inform us that all the pest control products they used were natural, "All green," he said. When I asked for specifics he just repeated that they were "all green." I asked again about the safety. Were they okay around cats? He offered us a discount.
Okay, now I was getting nervous.
But I was also getting pretty fed up. In a moment of drama, I told him he had to do something or I was going to go nuts.
The exterminator became very serious.
"There are very real psychological problems associated with a pest infestation," he said solemnly. He told us of a doctor (not one he knew or could name) that, after he had retired, began to find bugs everywhere. He even started to find bugs on his wife.
How this illustrated anything other than the debatable sanity of a supposedly real man, was beyond me.
But the exterminator had psyched himself out. He started to itch. He made a joke that he was getting them. As he slowly edged his way to the front door, he randomly decided to inform us that he had failed his certification test. Apparently he had missed a question and had filled in all the bubbles wrong after that point. He asked if we had ever done anything so stupid.
Aside from hiring him, nothing came to mind.
Then, after a short and thoroughly unrelated discussion about South Africa he left.
I don't think I'm going to get any sleep tonight over the sound of the bug laughing.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Lina Inverse?
Wow, Artgerm is making a huge mistake naming this character Lina Inverse. He has no idea what baggage that name comes with.
EDIT: So, turns out it's not original character. According to the Defense of the Ancients wiki her name was Lina anyway. I didn't see "Inverse" written anywhere though.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
I Am a Sonic Fan
I was looking for a specific piece of Sonic fanart the other day. I knew who the artist was, so I went to their website. To my surprise, it was closed. I followed a link to their new site looking for the Sonic images but the artist had not posted them. When I asked why, they told me that they were not a fan anymore. They said fans have a reputation for being aggressive, obsessed and detached from reality. They didn’t want to be associated with those types of people. They were ashamed of being a Sonic fan.
I had never heard this before. After all, I am a Sonic fan and I have never been ashamed of it. This made me curious and I started to look around.
As I went through the internet, fiction sites, Tumblr posts, chat rooms, forums and D.A. accounts, I saw a small slice of what this artist was talking about. I read all kinds of heated arguments such as, Sonic should be with Amy/Sally, the older/newer games are the best or even what makes you a “real” fan.
I am not going to get into an argument about the “best” way to prove a true fan or who Sonic should be dating. I want to address this increasingly prevalent ”hush hush, don’t say you like Sonic” aspect of the fandom.
When I question people about why they feel embarrassed, I always get the same answer, “the fans are crazy.” Are they? I suspect the majority of Sonic fans are probably not the vocal ones. The first Sonic game was released in 1991. The fans who were 10 back then are over 30 now. I can’t provide numbers, but logic would dictate that these fans are not the ones perpetuating the nit-picky arguments, the personal attacks and the obsessive need to prove you are the “biggest” fan.
So, if we rule out the majority of the early fans, then who are these so called “crazies” that Sonic fans are ashamed of? Is it the younger fans?
No, it’s not. While age has a lot to do with one’s maturity level, it does not automatically dictate how one will behave. Most of these “crazy” fans might be younger but they are not argumentative, closed minded and immature because they are younger. Younger fans, simply by virtue of not being born early enough to play the first few games, get a lot of heat. They are often accused of not being “real fans.” That is a terrible thing to say to someone and it’s an incorrect mindset. How long someone has liked something does not indicate how strongly they enjoy it. Yes, they may have missed out on the “feel” of the early years but the older fans can’t appreciate the “feel” of the newer years. Both are valid.
But I digress… if it’s not the early fans and it’s not automatically the younger fans then who are these people that, quite literally, make others feel ashamed?
The answer is simple. Sonic is a huge (and I mean huge) fandom which encompasses millions of people. Within those millions there are going to be some individuals who are disrespectful, closed minded, argumentative and mean spirited. My point is this: these people are going to be disrespectful, closed minded, etc. whether they are Sonic fans or not. Why should I (or you) let these people flavor the fandom as a whole? Why should they ruin everything that is good? Why should I personalize, internalize and feel shame because someone I never met is a badly behaved? Would you feel shame if someone cut in front of you at the ticket counter? Would you feel ashamed if some ass-wipe stole your parking space? Would you feel ashamed if some idiot was berating an innocent waitress? I doubt it. So why let those same people take away something you love? Why is it when someone is a fan the behavior of any other fan automatically reflects on everyone. Anyone who would honestly pass judgment on a stranger because some people who share that fan base act like idiots, needs to re-examine their ideals.
I do not speak of this lightly. I know how it feels. I was a fan of anime/manga back when you had to be 18 to buy Urusei Yatsura on VHS. Back when the first Vampire Hunter D film was considered “cutting edge.” Back before there was Tokyopop, Funimation or even Viz. I know what it feels like to be lumped into a stereotype, to be attacked on a personal level because of someone else’s misconception. People assumed, and some still do, that I am an unwashed, obsessive, overweight, male otaku who masturbates to big breasted “cartoon” school girls. Those people are very surprised when I tell them I am an out-going, 30 something, female graphic designer who loves to cook.
To all those fans who back away from something because it embarrasses them or because they are afraid of what others think, I implore you, stand up. Stand up and be proud. If every respectful, understanding, mature person admit to being a fan then people would say, “gosh, Sonic fans are great.” But when you back away then all people see are the crazies. The loud ones. The ones who don’t care. Do you want their behavior to dictate the image of a Sonic fan?
After all, I am a Sonic fan.
Are you?
I had never heard this before. After all, I am a Sonic fan and I have never been ashamed of it. This made me curious and I started to look around.
As I went through the internet, fiction sites, Tumblr posts, chat rooms, forums and D.A. accounts, I saw a small slice of what this artist was talking about. I read all kinds of heated arguments such as, Sonic should be with Amy/Sally, the older/newer games are the best or even what makes you a “real” fan.
I am not going to get into an argument about the “best” way to prove a true fan or who Sonic should be dating. I want to address this increasingly prevalent ”hush hush, don’t say you like Sonic” aspect of the fandom.
When I question people about why they feel embarrassed, I always get the same answer, “the fans are crazy.” Are they? I suspect the majority of Sonic fans are probably not the vocal ones. The first Sonic game was released in 1991. The fans who were 10 back then are over 30 now. I can’t provide numbers, but logic would dictate that these fans are not the ones perpetuating the nit-picky arguments, the personal attacks and the obsessive need to prove you are the “biggest” fan.
So, if we rule out the majority of the early fans, then who are these so called “crazies” that Sonic fans are ashamed of? Is it the younger fans?
No, it’s not. While age has a lot to do with one’s maturity level, it does not automatically dictate how one will behave. Most of these “crazy” fans might be younger but they are not argumentative, closed minded and immature because they are younger. Younger fans, simply by virtue of not being born early enough to play the first few games, get a lot of heat. They are often accused of not being “real fans.” That is a terrible thing to say to someone and it’s an incorrect mindset. How long someone has liked something does not indicate how strongly they enjoy it. Yes, they may have missed out on the “feel” of the early years but the older fans can’t appreciate the “feel” of the newer years. Both are valid.
But I digress… if it’s not the early fans and it’s not automatically the younger fans then who are these people that, quite literally, make others feel ashamed?
The answer is simple. Sonic is a huge (and I mean huge) fandom which encompasses millions of people. Within those millions there are going to be some individuals who are disrespectful, closed minded, argumentative and mean spirited. My point is this: these people are going to be disrespectful, closed minded, etc. whether they are Sonic fans or not. Why should I (or you) let these people flavor the fandom as a whole? Why should they ruin everything that is good? Why should I personalize, internalize and feel shame because someone I never met is a badly behaved? Would you feel shame if someone cut in front of you at the ticket counter? Would you feel ashamed if some ass-wipe stole your parking space? Would you feel ashamed if some idiot was berating an innocent waitress? I doubt it. So why let those same people take away something you love? Why is it when someone is a fan the behavior of any other fan automatically reflects on everyone. Anyone who would honestly pass judgment on a stranger because some people who share that fan base act like idiots, needs to re-examine their ideals.
I do not speak of this lightly. I know how it feels. I was a fan of anime/manga back when you had to be 18 to buy Urusei Yatsura on VHS. Back when the first Vampire Hunter D film was considered “cutting edge.” Back before there was Tokyopop, Funimation or even Viz. I know what it feels like to be lumped into a stereotype, to be attacked on a personal level because of someone else’s misconception. People assumed, and some still do, that I am an unwashed, obsessive, overweight, male otaku who masturbates to big breasted “cartoon” school girls. Those people are very surprised when I tell them I am an out-going, 30 something, female graphic designer who loves to cook.
To all those fans who back away from something because it embarrasses them or because they are afraid of what others think, I implore you, stand up. Stand up and be proud. If every respectful, understanding, mature person admit to being a fan then people would say, “gosh, Sonic fans are great.” But when you back away then all people see are the crazies. The loud ones. The ones who don’t care. Do you want their behavior to dictate the image of a Sonic fan?
After all, I am a Sonic fan.
Are you?
Friday, December 9, 2011
Heroes Fantasia
Heroes Fantasia has both Lina and Orphen! I would pick it up but I won't understand the plot. Also, I have no idea if it with work on a non-Japanese system. I think someone said that the PSP will play Japanese and American games but I haven't been able to verify that. And, I haven't checked, but I'm certain the game is probably not going to be cheap. But still... Gourry, Amelia, Zelgadis, Majik, Cleo... LINA and ORPHEN!!! Noooooo...want it, want it.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Anime Voice Actor's Wife Dies
Voice actor Dan Green's wife died on Nov. 25th after giving birth to their children. Please visit his website if you want to make a donation or leave him a message. As anime fans know, Dan Green is the voice behind many beloved anime characters from Yu-Gi-Oh, Pokemon and Sonic the Hedgehog. You can see an interview with him here.
If you can help, or want to leave him a message, please do so. I don't know if it will reach him, but he should know that his fans have him in their thoughts and prayers.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Are You Freaking Kidding Me? (Misogynistic 50s ads)
Enlarge and read these. Seriously. There are no words.
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