#so corporate advertisers were not our friends
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Name: Neo Bowser City (aka Koopa City in PAL regions)
Debut: Mario Kart 7
Do you ever think of all the weird locations we only ever see in Mario Kart games? Despite being the biggest of all of Mario's spin-off franchises, when you really get down to it, remarkably few Mario Kart courses are actually based on established Mario locations!
It's not none, there's the occasional Donut Plains and Tick-Tock Clock and Airship Fortress, but most of the courses are these weird one-off locations we never see outside the context of that specific racetrack.
But have you ever taken a moment to step back and like, think of the Lore Implications of some of these places?
Like okay! Bowser just owns this whole dang cyberpunk city and we only ever see it in the context of Kart Racing! How messed up is that?!
One day Mario and Friends were looking for new places to race, and Bowser must have said something like "Gwah-hah-hah! I bet you puny punks could NEVER beat me in a race in my cyberpunk metropolis!" and right then and there it was established that Bowser owns a cyberpunk metropolis. Neo Bowser City is a city that exists in the Super Mario World and aside from returning in other Mario Kart games, it hasn't been acknowledged before or since.
Neo Bowser City first appeared in Mario Kart 7, as the third course in the Star Cup. Despite its flashy visuals, it actually doesn't really have a whole lot going on. It's a difficult track with some tight turns made more difficult by the rain making things more slippery, but besides that it doesn't really have any of the Wacky Obstacles that define so many Mario Kart courses.
Then it returned in Mario Kart 8 looking more gorgeous than ever! The bright colors really pop out, and the whole track is just oozing with detail that really emphasizes the scale of this city!
But like, the emphasized scale really only further raises the question of where this exists in the Mario World. Clearly, the fact that Bowser is plastered all over the billboards and the fact it's named "Neo Bowser City" helps us deduce that this city probably belongs to Bowser. Is this located in Bowser's Kingdom? Just how big is Bowser's Kingdom? And why does he own so many separate castles?
Maybe Neo Bowser City exists in the future? Is this a bad timeline? I mean, Mario Kart is allowed to have time-travel shenanigans. There's a Splatoon battle arena and that exists thousands of years in the future so sure, dust off Mario's Time Machine and head to the bad future where Bowser wins. Should've pressed that New Super Mario Bros. big yellow P-Switch!
I asked my friend Mod Chikako for their input and their theory is that Neo Bowser City isn't the future of Mario's world, but of our world. Clearly Bowser just couldn't take Wreck-It-Ralph losing the Oscar vote!
But in that case I guess it's a cooler cyberpunk future than the one we're living in right now. Corporate monopolies that run mass-surveillance with little government intervention due to their extreme wealth giving them extensive political power? No thank you! Neo Bowser City has bright neon colors, and flying cars! If I'm going to live in a dystopia, I want it to be a fun one. The only advertisements I want to see plastered everywhere are ones advertising Bowser!
Boo! That's the bad guy! Thumbs down!
The course returns again in that pitiful mobile game with another redesign, this time letting us see his Coney Island Disco Palace off in the distance. Does Bowser live in his Neo City? Is this worldbuilding we've been missing out on for decades, finally answered by a kart racer? Is this the capital city of Bowser's Kingdom? Am I once again falling victim to my perpetual hubris of overthinking the Mario franchise?
Really, I can't offer too much in terms of wacky fan theories, because I'm still thinking about this location existing in the first place. I'd love to know the Lore and worldbuilding here, but I guess the nature of Mario's canon is that it doesn't need to be over-analyzed. Bowser simply owns a cyberpunk metropolis, we'll only ever see it in the context of kart racing, and maybe that's okay.
Of course, this post wouldn't be complete if I didn't mention Dinohattan from the 1993 Super Mario Bros. Movie, which we've barely talked about on this blog somehow. You see, when the meteor hit, some of the dinosaurs escaped into a parallel timeline where they then evolved into humans, and then they built Dinohattan instead of Manhattan. Get it? Yeah, that movie is all sorts of bonkers. I wouldn't say it's very good, but I kinda love it. I'd recommend checking it out, if only to see a vastly different take on Mario than you'd be used to.
Anyway I bring this up because it's a completely separate instance of a version of Bowser building a large cyberpunk metropolis, and it actually predates Neo Bowser City! Do you think they could be connected? Are Dinohattan and Neo Bowser City one and the same...?
#neo bowser city#mario kart 7#weird mario locations#mario kart 8#mod hooligon#really mod chikako also helped contribute a few jokes to this post i gotta credit them#i've had this post sitting in the drafts for over a year and a half#no clue why i took so long to publish it it's basically been fully complete this whole time
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Not sure I'm the exact right person for this oral history, but since the birdsite is imploding and advertisers might fucking try some shit over here it's a good time for all of us to remember everyone's favorite meme: "John C Miller, CEO and President of the Denny's Corporation, is a Capitalist Running Dog and his wealth must be seized and redistributed to the people”
Back in '16 or so, Denny's had a reasonably large presence on this site, from a non-artistic standpoint it's fair to say that whoever was running that blog did a pretty good job of keeping up to date on the current memes and staying relevant. Many of us, myself included, kinda just got used to them being here and let it happen, gave it little thought, maybe gave it a chuckle from time to time. At some point someone was like 'actually it sucks that a major corporation is trying to hang out with us and be our friend, they were, of course, absolutely right, and their genius response was to create a meme that they couldn't fucking coopt, hence "John C Miller, CEO and President of the Denny's Corporation, is a Capitalist Running Dog and his wealth must be seized and redistributed to the people" became the fun new thing.
"Coopt this you old so and so" was the idea and it worked pretty well, they did try it, but in a way that clearly was dancing around the central premise everyone knew they wouldn't be able to engage with. They stuck around for a little while longer, but it was clearly a major turning point in their ability to use this site to hang out with us, a good thing.
The point, as advertisers try to find new, less feral places to spend their advertising budgets, is that we don't have to just ignore them, that's a good start, but we can bite their fucking hands if they try it. We do not have to play nice with advertisers trying to be our friends, we can be feral.
Anyhow, I definitely am not positive I've gotten every detail right, so if there's any major corrections anyone needs to add, feel free, memedoccumentation had a post about it that helped me refresh my memory although my analysis of aspects differ from this point in history, as it were, but if you want to read up a bit more this is a solid starting point that has some fun examples
#Mostly they're right Denny's trying to respond killed the meme#But it also killed the Denny's account#So it was IMO a pyrrhic victory for them#in a way that the contemporary documentation of the time probably couldn't've known#We should probably ignore the celebrities cause they're just people#and while I don't care for them I also think that as people we shouldn't be assholes to them without cause#but advertisers inherently give you cause to bite them by being advertisers IMO#Mostly just haven't seen anyone else circulating anything about this#And given the overall discussion on the site about how to handle contingencies from what's happening over there#This seemed at least worth putting back into the public consciousness
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"[The U.S. Surgeon General] is right to talk about loneliness as an important issue and social bonds as critical for our health and well-being — humans are social creatures, and we all need human support systems to thrive. But ultimately, calls that emphasize individual actions don’t quite work to solve the problem, and we need to promote a culture centered around the individual and the collective well-being.
For people to truly not be lonely or isolated, and to live meaningful lives in which their potentials can be realized, it’ll take more than atomized actors making small-scale connections; we need an entirely new social fabric which fosters social connection, and that has to come about through systemic changes, such as what Goldstein says in the rest of his tweet:
The indirect policy solutions on these things are one that centrist/neoliberals will never call for. Ones that give us time, basic needs met as guarantees. A basic income, a 30 (or 20) hour work week, guarantee health care and paid leave, reducing the scale of corporate power in tech, entertainment, advertising by immensely taxing corporate wealth/revenue (not just profits) and by limiting their ability to take over our public spaces and airwaves, fighting for union power, fighting automakers/car culture, fighting suburban developers, and so many more policies that actually foster and enable genuine social infrastructure.
How can you join a political group when you are working one, two, or three jobs to make ends meet? (Even one full-time job is exhausting enough.) How can you take a break to meet someone for coffee or join a reading group when you don’t have child care? How can you seek out new social connections when social media and streaming services are designed to be addictive and take up a lot of your free time? How can you make a social connection without having to consume something (say, buying food or drinks to get a place to sit) because public spaces for recreation are so limited? How can you meet up with a friend or family member who lives 20 miles away or multiple bus rides away? Or when your loneliness complicates depression or other mental health needs and you don’t have healthcare?
I’m not saying people never get to socialize. The point is that social and economic realities make it too difficult for the vast majority of people to develop healthy social lives. There’s also something cruel about telling people, 'These are the solutions,' but they’re things that many people can’t actually do. This makes it easier for people to then blame themselves when they don’t fix their loneliness — after all, the 'solutions' were available!
... The larger point here is that whenever we are told to 'do more of something,' we should ask whether society is creating the conditions for us to do that thing (assuming that thing is indeed good)."
- Lily Sánchez, from "The Surgeon General Should Stop Telling People to Solve the Loneliness Crisis on Their Own." Current Affairs, 3 May 2023.
#lily sánchez#quote#quotations#community#relationships#mental health#well being#activism#democratic socialism#socializing#adulting#loneliness#neoliberalism#capitalism#individualism
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The Lost Boys Former Lives - Paul 💙
Others: David, Marko, Dwayne
TW: Child abuse, Corporal punishment, Homophobia, S*icidal thoughts, Depression, Anxiety, Death, Drug use, Sex
The playful one of our Lost Boys and the fourth of Max's "family".
This is what Paul's life was when he was human.....
In 1940, Paul was born. He was the youngest child of his parents with twin, older brothers. They lived in suburban neighborhood in Florida. Unlike the other Lost Boys, Paul was born into a relatively wealthy family. His great-grandfather had major success in the steel industry, and such riches were passed to each generation. His parents' wealth had only grown with his father’s massive success as a car salesman (a very sneaky one at that). His mother was a housewife and poured all her time and energy into making sure their home was always perfect.
They were the perfect picture of a successful, nuclear family in the 40s and 50s. The kind you’d see on billboards and advertisements. Bright smiles, neat clothing, and all the luxuries one could only dream of having. Neighbors and friends expressed envy of the gadgets and expensive decorations they owned. That was certainly fine by them, as a perfect image was something his parents strived for more than anything. They always worked to keep up appearances and impress others.
There was just one problem with this; behind closed doors, Paul’s family was downright insufferable. His mother was prone to physical violence due to the nasty temper she had while his father would tear him down with full-volume screaming. There was no proper communication or unity in the household. Anything could set off a fight without any notice. They also hated anything that didn’t fit the traditional W.A.S.P. appearance (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant), looking down on anyone who was even slightly different than them.
Paul was a very odd kid in their mind, and he didn’t always fit the image his parents were trying to keep up. From an early age, Paul displayed signs of ADHD, but it wasn’t really understood or diagnosed in that time period. This unfortunately led to a lot of issues with his parents. They berated him for not staying still, for doing weird things for no reason (which was just stimming), for accidentally interrupting conversations, and for showing certain emotions at “inappropriate” times. Poor Paul didn’t understand what he was doing wrong, and it frustrated him constantly.
It didn’t help that his brothers were golden boys in their parents' eyes. They were perfect at everything. School, sports, music, boy scouts, you name it, they could master it. They worked as a team and it helped them succeed quite a bit. Unfortunately, they would use their duo dynamic for bullying their little brother. They would kick him, throw him in the dirt and mud and lock him in the basement when he was “annoying” them. Paul was miserable, but to them, it was a game.
School life wasn’t much better either. Paul struggled quite a bit, as it was extremely difficult for him to concentrate. Due to the time period, he was punished by his teachers with rulers slapped on his palms or forced to sit in the corner while the other kids laughed at him. He didn’t make any friends because of this.
Paul was a punching bag to everyone around him. He was a frightened little boy who had to deal with the terrible ways the people in his life would punish him. All because of him acting a little differently. He didn’t understand why they were so cruel. Why his parents mistreated others, why his teachers thought he was stupid, and why his brothers wished he had never been born. One day when he was 8, Paul tried to run away from home, fed up with the mistreatment.
He didn't think to bring much. He had run away with just an old lunch box full of random toys. Paul was just a little boy that didn’t know where he was going or what he would do. All he knew was that he wanted to be far away from his family. After several hours, he found a set of train tracks. One thing that brought him comfort was trains, as they could take him away from the life he was suffering through. As he played on the rails, he wished a train would come by for him to get on.
To his surprise, a train DID come, but it was heading straight for him. His foot got caught in the tracks, leaving him stuck and in danger. Paul’s screams got the attention of someone, and in a matter of seconds, a motorcycle rode by the train tracks, the driver on top scooping him up moments before he could get run over.
A runaway greaser had saved his life that day. He was a very nice stranger, kneeling down to talk to Paul at eye level, making sure he was okay, and asking where his parents were. Paul was in complete awe of the stranger. He thought he was the coolest person he’d ever laid eyes on. The bike he rode was powerful, he had a cigarette in his mouth and the leather jacket he wore was incredibly stylish. At that moment, Paul was looking at the image of a person he wanted to be someday.
Thankfully, the stranger was caring enough to take him to a local diner to get him some food and to call his parents. Paul actually preferred the greasy fries and sweet milkshakes over the elaborate, rich dinners his mother made. It was much more appetizing for a kid’s palette. It took quite a while for anyone to show up, so the two of them hung out together. Paul got to dance to the music (which was Good Rockin’ Tonight by Wynonie Harris) and have fun playing games. It was the first time in his life he actually felt like he had a friend, and it brought him immense joy.
Unfortunately, the happiness didn’t last, and soon his parents pulled up outside the diner. Paul did NOT want to leave, clinging onto the stranger who he now called a friend. They were very kind and encouraging, helping him feel a little braver. In order to make it easier, they gave Paul one of their many silver bracelets as a token of friendship. That way, Paul would have something to remember the good times by. He still wears that bracelet to this day.
If Paul thought his parents were mean before, they became MUCH worse after he ran away. They were horrified by the stranger who helped him, and rather than praise them for keeping their child safe, they went on a detailed rant to Paul about how rock & roll was the devil’s music and that anyone who rode a motorcycle was a no-good hoodlum (they also made some rather hateful remarks regarding the stranger’s sexuality). They forbade him from ever indulging in that kind of stuff. In fact, they would make sure of it by harshly punishing him if they even thought he was doing such things.
Paul’s life became empty, as he could never properly enjoy the things that brought him joy. When the family got their first television set, Paul wasn’t allowed to watch anything on it. Several of his toys were thrown out without notice if his parents felt like doing so. Punishments got more severe, and Paul was often backed into a corner either being screamed at or being struck with a belt. All while this was going on, his brothers were spoiled and allowed to do as they wished.
As he started to get older, Paul believed there was no hope for him. That life would only get worse and worse and no matter what he would do, there would be nothing but pain. He was very much alone in the world. He never really smiled or laughed, as he had no reason to. If he was ever seen grinning for a family picture, it wasn’t genuine. He was just in survival mode, doing whatever he could to not invoke the wrath of his parents so he wouldn’t have so many bruises.
The only time Paul would find peace was at night. When everyone else in the house was asleep, he’d sneak into his brothers’ room and take their record player so he could listen to their music. Paul would listen in the basement with as low volume as possible. Music became his savior. In the 50s, he found rock & roll again, and it brought him the only real happiness in his life. It was fun, energetic and made him want to go wild. It helped him realize how much he loved dancing and gave him hope that he could live a fun life one day.
When he was 16, his brothers (who were still at home for college) turned on the Ed Sullivan show to see Elvis Presley perform. Paul was sneakily trying to watch too, as he really didn’t want to miss out. Of course, he got caught and his brothers snitched to their parents, claiming Paul had a crush on the singer. His parents were LIVID. They decided from then on, Paul’s life was going to be far more strict than it already was.
They locked him in his room every night, only letting him out for school and chores. It wasn’t like Paul’s room was a safe place anymore, as they searched the room top to bottom and got rid of every book, magazine, toy, poster and decoration. It was just his bed and nightstand that had no drawer. If Paul wanted to read something, he’d either get the bible or a school book. Chores were worse, as they berated even the most perfect job done. If they found so much as a speck of dust, he’d get beaten.
(WARNING: The next paragraph has mentions of s*icidal thoughts. Proceed with caution or skip if you need to)
Every single part of Paul’s life was miserable. He was a prisoner in his home and overwhelmed in school. It actually got to a point where Paul was held back a year for his struggling, which didn’t help the situation with his parents. With nothing to keep him happy, Paul considered multiple times taking his own life just to make the suffering stop.
One day, Paul got detention for falling asleep in class, meaning he didn’t get to go home until after dark. He was walking alone when he accidentally bumped into someone while turning a corner. He was face to face with three handsome, rocker-style boys around his age. Paul was absolutely mystified by them. They reminded him of the stranger who saved his life as a child. The thing that brought him true happiness.
Amused by him, they introduced themselves as David, Marko and Dwayne. They offered to take him to the local diner for some food and a dance or two. Paul was scared of the consequences with his parents, but the boys assured him it would be okay. He ended up having a really nice time, the weight of the world off his shoulders as they showed him a fun time. When he had to go, they gave him a ride home (it was Dwayne’s bike he rode on the back on). Paul was incredibly sad to say goodbye, but David promised they would come by to help sneak him out for more fun in the future.
So that’s what happened. The night became safe for Paul again, as the boys would come to his bedroom window and sneak him out to play. They gifted him jewelry and helped teach him how to use eye makeup. Whether they went on wild motorcycle rides, went out dancing or just listened to some music while having a smoke, Paul was incredibly happy. To him, life was worth living again, and the boys were the guardian angels that saved him.
They also helped Paul get more comfortable with his sexuality. He had developed feelings for Marko first (who also became his first kiss), but ultimately found all three of them attractive. It was confusing to him, as his parents were very strict about the idea of relationships being between one man and one woman, but his friends weren’t judgmental or restrained with their beliefs.
Finally ready to leave the torment of his parents forever, Paul asked to run away with the boys, as they would be traveling again soon. Having fallen in love with the adorable blond, they all agreed, ready to help him sneak out with what little he had. They were at a picnic spot in the woods and enjoying the celebration of Paul leaving his awful family…..when all of a sudden, said family pulled up in their car.
His parents and brothers were there, ready to take him back home away from the “sinful” lifestyle. His father in particular wanted to send Paul to military school to finally break him down and prevent more rebellious behavior. Paul was struggling with a panic attack, terrified and barely able to breathe. David pulled him aside and covered his ears while Marko and Dwayne completely mauled the awful family. Paul was confused when he saw vampire faces and yellow eyes on his friends, but he never felt anything less than safe. David made sure his eyes were closed while they got back on their bikes and left the scene.
Paul was free of that life, but he still wanted to complete his transition into the next one. He truly loved his friends and wanted to be with them forever, even after learning they were vampires. In his eyes, they weren’t monsters. He’d seen what real ones were. So the three of them agreed to turn him. Paul got to drink David’s blood from the bottle while the others cheered him on. When they asked where Paul wanted to go for his first hunt, he chose a familiar place from his childhood; the train tracks.
Several emotions were going through his mind when he spotted his first target. He had some doubts if he could really take another life, but David assured him he could do it. The world was full of so many cruel, heartless people who wanted to keep them down. It was one less monster to poison the lives of others. So when Paul’s vampire instincts kicked in, he went for the kill.
The first kill permanently changed Paul. After slaughtering and drinking from his target, something wonderful happened. A smile spread across his face. A real one. The most joyful smile he’d ever experienced. He was free. He was safe. Finally, he was ready to enjoy the night as a creature that would never know pain and sorrow again.
To celebrate, Paul went absolutely WILD that night. He flew into the sky and went straight into the window of a fancy hotel, ultimately committing his first break-in with his friends. He smoked weed for the first time, loving how light and dreamy it made him feel. They all drank heavily, not holding back with the bottles of wine, beer and champagne they had. He danced naked and sang at the top of his lungs. Paul even had sex with both Marko and Dwayne for his first time, feeling overwhelmed with love for them. David in particular was very proud of him, loving the wild child that Paul had finally become.
From then on, Paul was an entirely new person. To him, his previous life was nothing. All the bad memories and fears would be lost to time and he could be his true, authentic self. He would never be alone again and he would show his gratitude to his friends by helping keep the party going. Becoming a vampire was truly the best moment of his life, and he would never look back.
Additional Facts:
Paul hated the fact that his hair was cut short as a kid. He wanted it super long, but couldn’t have it that way because it wasn’t “appropriate” for boys. The moment he became a vampire, he vowed to grow it out and never go back to his short style.
If Paul had stayed human and had children, he would have had twins as his parents did. He carries the twin gene (@auntvamp)
He doesn’t just smoke weed for the sake of fun. He also finds that it helps calm any lingering anxieties he has from his human life.
In 1950, Paul saw the movie Cinderella while his parents were away on a trip. He was absolutely enchanted by it, feeling a deep connection to the story and the idea of leaving an abusive family and finding someone who would truly love him. He loves stories with happy endings. To this day, he still hums “So This is Love” when he’s in an especially good mood.
On that note, one of his pet names for the boys is “my prince”
As a human, he was allergic to dogs. The family never had pets anyway, as his parents thought they were dirty and too much work to care for. The only reason Paul knows he’s allergic was that he had a bad reaction to his cousin’s dog during a visit one Christmas. The reason he froze around Nanook wasn’t fear of the dog, but rather fear of another reaction.
The way he treats Laddie is just like how the stranger he met treated him (the stranger called him “bud” too). He wanted to be a super cool and caring older brother for Laddie, and nothing like the ones he had.
Paul never again saw the stranger who helped him as a child. In 1979 he swore he saw a familiar face from a middle-aged man he passed on the street but wasn’t entirely sure.
He has fully embraced the passage of time and the changes that have come with each decade he’s been alive. He loved the free love of the 60s, the disco era of the 70s, and the punk movement of the 80s. In his mind, life has gotten better and better with each decade, and he’s thankful to be still young and energetic as he experiences each one.
Paul never put a label on his identity, but he finds people attractive regardless of gender. When he became a vampire, his confidence was boosted and became quite a flirt. He loves making others feel good, whether it be with sweet nothings or sexual embraces.
He absolutely hates fights. Paul often tries to back out of fights or break them up because it brings back the fear of getting hit by his parents. He believes it’s embarrassing because he thinks he’s supposed to be tough like his friends, but they don’t mind it. In fact, they consider Paul to be their voice of reason if a fight gets too bad.
When Star joined their pack, he felt an immediate connection to her. He remembered how hard it was to be lonely, so he would always try his best to get her to smile or keep her company when she needed a friend. He’s not sure if his feelings toward her are more platonic or romantic, but he’s fine with just being her friend so she’s not alone. (their interactions are inspired by events in the novel)
Paul hates being reminded of the 40s and 50s due to bad memories, but one thing he still loves is going to old-fashioned diners. They’re a safe place for him, and the food is still very comforting. If he’s ever having a bad day, one of the boys will take him on a date to one.
He’s still a little in the dark about his ADHD, but he’s much more open with stimming due to the support of his friends.
Paul is the best singer out of all the Lost Boys. He found a love for karaoke when he became a vampire.
He was rather clumsy as a human, which led to a lot of problems with his parents. He broke a lot of nice China plates due to a bad case of butter fingers. Thankfully, the boys don’t mind it.
The idea of going to the train tracks with Michael was Paul’s. He had quite the adrenaline rush the first time they all hung down from the edge.
Despite all that he’s been through in life, Paul is incredibly kind. He won’t hunt people that are polite, he is friendly with kids, holds open doors for strangers, and leaves good tips (stolen from Max, of course) for servers. If he ever spots someone with signs of self-harm marks, he’ll go out of his way to help them with something or say something sweet to brighten their day. He personally knows how much that can mean to someone who’s struggling (him being the kindest Lost Boy is also from the novel)
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"Homophile organization publications had always looked at their more daring physique counterparts with envy. In the wake of the Manual v. Day decision, they had already begun to resemble physique magazines. After 1967, with the threat of prosecution removed, they adopted a similar racy format. Vector, published by San Francisco's Society for Individual Rights, offered its first nude male centerfold in June 1969, and a few months later full-frontal nudity had migrated to its cover. Soon Mattachine Times in New York followed suit, featuring cover images of young men in posing straps...
This tendency to combine gay news, nude images, and raunchy classified advertising continued until magazines sought to attract large, mainstream advertisers. New York's GAY felt pressure early on from advertisers who objected to the use of nudes, particularly on the cover, forcing editor Nichols to moderate their use. Thus began a movement away from a sexual liberation ethos to a more sanitized, corporate look. Like lots of gay periodicals, GAY abandoned its cor gay business in search of mainstream acceptance.
The Advocate resisted this trend at first, keeping its racy classified ads but segregating them to a pullout section. "I like them; their fun," the Advocate's editor-in-chief Richard Rouilard proclaimed. "This is the way gays and lesbians talk to each other worldwide. And if you are going to compromise this community for advertisers or so that your mother can read the magazine, go buy yourself a copy of 'Catch-22.'" But even the Advocate eventually had to succumb to the demands of larger advertising dollars, spinning off its classifieds and naked images into a separate magazine. With the rise of upscale publications such as Genre and Out in the 1990s, the realms of homoerotic imagery and gay news have become increasingly divided. In many ways this represents a return to a politics of respectability practiced by the homophile organizations, a trend reinforced in the twenty-first century as the LGBTQ movement became dominated by the political struggle for gay marriage.
The current bifurcation in LGBT media between the political and the erotic makes it difficult for us to see that the worlds of gay commerce, sex, and politics were once mutually reinforcing. Today gay men go to smart-phone apps like Grindr to hook up but to news websites or an LGBT advocacy organization to catch up on civil rights issues and community affairs. But historically it was the desire to connect and find one another that gave rise to such community publications. It was [gay physique photographer] Bob Mizer's classified ad in Strength & Health that had alerted him to the large reservoir of gay men seeking contact with one another. Gay men had pleaded with physique and homophile organizations to allow them to connect, but the first tentative steps in that direction were met with swift and decisive state suppression. Gay men went to prison and others lost their jobs merely for participating in a gay pen-pal club. But thanks to physique entrepreneurs such as Lynn Womack, the correspondence club was able to thrive and morph into the classified ad, which was soon replaced with phone sex lines, followed by AOL chatrooms, and now hookup mobile applications such as Grinder and Scruff. The technology may have changed, but the business of connecting gay men has a long and rich history.
Today the term "gay power" is remembered as a political slogan shouted at the 1969 Stonewall Riots, but in the beginning it was understood largely in economic terms. Two years before the riots, Vector inaugurated a new column called "Gay Power" featuring information about its advertisers. The idea came from a young but vocal SIR member, Pat Hallinan, who suggested that it was time to invoke "our secret weapon, GAY POWER, upon the economic world." As the column advised, "When you visit our friends and advertisers, tell 'em you saw it in Vector--that's GAY POWER!" A few months later, the founder of the Los Angeles Advocate similarly advised readers, "You can do much to strengthen and promote power in the gay community because you wield the great deciding weapon: The Almighty Dollar." He defined "gay power" as "buying power, selling power, voting power...No dear, it isn't a queen with muscles," he joked.
...
Even when shouted at Stonewall, the cry for gay power was largely about the desire of gay men and women to have control of their own commercial spaces. "Get the Mafia and the Police Out of Gay Bars," proclaimed one of the first pamphlets in response to the raid of the Stonewall Inn. Craig Rodwell called for "gay businessmen" to open bars and shops to create a healthier social atmosphere than bars like Stonewall. And he simultaneously encouraged customers to support them and "Buy Gay."...
For many gay liberationists, especially in New York City, physique magazines also came under attack as exemplary of the negative effects of a gay ghetto. In contrast to previous generations of young men who found comfort in images that glorified the male body, gay liberationists saw exploitation. "These magazines crudely showed men as nothing but sex objects; if they were objects, I could be one too," remembered John Murphy. "That frightened me then, and it infuriates me now," he wrote in 1971. Some worried that the "masculine mystique" depicted in these magazines was so inaccessible and exaggerated that it constituted a form of self-hatred. "Those male idols so worshiped cannot possibly be faggots!" they complained. Following the Black Nationalist, Black Power, and feminist movements, they envisioned a world where gay men and women owned and managed their own, more equitable and inclusive, businesses.
Despite his "Buy Gay" campaign, Craig Rodwell refused to sell "sexploitative" magazines in his own Oscar Wilde Memorial Bookshop, offended by both the high price-tag for nude male images and what he found to be an over-emphasis on sex. He was unaware of how physique publishers such as Bob Mizer were among the oldest gay businesses around and had been created with precisely the same goal of fostering community. But Mizer's crusading mission had waned as many straight and gay publishers had since entered the market with an eye toward making a quick buck. Rodwell and other gay liberationists tarred them all with the same brush. They did not appreciate the tremendous struggles they had encountered in the face of government censorship. They increasingly saw physique businesses as part of the problem of, not the solution to, community empowerment."
David K. Johnson, Buying Gay: How Physique Entrepreneurs Sparked a Movement
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Predvember Day 3
Prompt: Phase
Word Count: 1k
Summary: A woman is captured by Weyland-Yutani, and discovers their plans for her.
Pairing: None
Tags: Human experimentation, corrupt corporations, forced pregnancy (future), dialogue-heavy
Warnings: None
Phase One.
That's what the scientists are calling it.
"The beginning of a new breed of soldier, one who can do that which regular men and women cannot. That's the goal here, you see?"
One of them, a short, rotund ginger woman, tells Max as she is tightening the restraints on her wrists.
"You're crazy," she spits out between gritted teeth, wishing that the force of her glare was enough to cause the woman to drop dead as she struggles on the metal table in a vain attempt to free herself. "You can't do this to me. I'm an American citizen. I have rights."
The scientist, whose name tag reads "Fritz", clicks her tongue mockingly. "Don't be ridiculous. The moment you signed those papers, you gave up what rights you have. You belong to Weyland-Yutani."
"You lied to me!" Max shoots back. "This was supposed to be a social study, not some- some crackpot science experiment! You lied."
Fritz hesitates, but only for a moment, before she shrugs, her blue eyes narrowing. "It was necessary."
"Necessary?" Max chokes out, a mixture of indignation, terror and fury making her voice crack.
She can't believe it.
What these people are proposing is insane. For starters, aliens aren't even real, and yet here they are, claiming that they're going to use extraterrestrial…dna, to impregnate her?
In the hopes that, what? She conceives a brand new organism, something humanity has never seen before?
It's the most ridiculous thing that she's ever heard. What is this, a sci-fi movie?
"You're not going to get away with this, you know," she tells Fritz, as she tests the restraints again, wincing at the way they bite into her skin.
Fritz has the audacity to roll her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips. "Can you get any more cliché? Of course we're going to get away with it. We did our research. No one is even going to notice that you are gone."
The scientist chuckles, shaking her head. "Even if they do, it's doubtful that they will care too much. Anyone who does care about you….well, they aren't in any position to help you anyway, are they?"
"You don't know anything about me," Max retorts, stung at the implication that this woman is aware of her history, even as her stomach drops.
Did they actually look into her background? Were they just out here targeting specific people for these supposed tests? Or did they just do it for her specifically?
"I know a lot about you. I know that you only have one living relative, your grandmother. Though she's not long for this world, is she?"
Max grits her teeth. Her grandma Susan is the only reason she's here.
She is very sick, and Max can't afford the treatments, only able to work part-time while she attends university.
Finding the advertisement for the study had felt like a lifeline being thrown to her, like the universe had decided to stop shitting on her for once.
Stupid. So stupid.
She can't believe she had actually thought that things were looking up, that she'd actually be able to get her nana help. You know what they say. If it's too good to be true…..
"My job will notice if I don't come in, and-" She begins, trailing off as Fritz snorts, her smirk widening.
"Your job? You mean that dead end ice cream place? Right. Your coworkers despise you. Besides, you'll be replaced in a few days. I doubt that it'll make much of a difference."
Fritz turns, picking up various things around the room, continuing to speak. "You don't really have any friends that you contact regularly, either. No pets, and no significant other. It's quite sad, really."
Max swallows hard, barely paying attention to the other woman's words as she struggles to think of a way out of this mess.
"Why are you doing this? How could you be a part of something like this? It's….. it's wrong."
Fritz tilts her head in her direction, setting down various unidentifiable tools on a tray next to the table that Max is restrained on.
"That's subjective. This is for a good cause. Are you even aware what this means for humanity as a whole? Countless men and women die every year fighting for this country. This project will open doors to advancements the likes we've never seen before. This could save lives. And anything that does that, well. It's not bad in my book."
She's crazy. She's fucking crazy. She actually thinks this is okay.
"And what about me?" Max demands. "What if I die because of this? What then? Is that still for 'a good cause'??"
"The sacrifice of a few to benefit the many," Fritz replies with a shrug. "I don't know why you're so upset. Personally, I would be honored to be a part of something like this, but I…don't fit the requirements, sadly."
Her eyes flick to Max's body, her expression undeniably jealous for the quickest of moments.
Max resists the urge to make a nasty comment, her jaw aching with how hard she's clenching her jaw.
"Besides," Fritz continues. "You're still getting what you want, you know. Your grandmother will be looked after during this project, and will be as long as you prove useful. You have no reason to be upset."
No reason to-
"No reason to be upset!?" Max shouts, rage flaring through her as she strains herself against her restraints. "Are you delusional, or are you just stupid? How can you say-"
"The doctor will be with you soon," the scientist interrupts loudly.
She gives her a fake, cheery smile. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I'll be the intern recording your progress throughout this project. I look forward to assisting you through your journey."
Before Max can respond, she turns sharply on her heel, and exits the room.
Leaving her to stare at the door with nothing but dread for company, as she waits for the inevitable.
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Thank you for sharing all these articles and opinions about the wga SAG aftra strike.
Do you think the studios will keep refusing any kind of negotiation till October? I feel like this is really a suicide, but they seem so sure they're gonna win. Do they know something we ignore or they're just too arrogant?
Hm, why is Brad Pitt better than Gaiman? I thought Gaiman was on strike too. Maybe I missed something
Re: Studios
Right now, they're counting on fans listening to their Studio Teachers Pets to not cut the cord. Zaslav has bragged people will stay subscribed because of their giant content libraries, for example. Amazon has Gaiman doing cartwheels promoting his stuff for Amazon, even if he can weakly peep, I did it of my own will! Meanwhile, Witcher writers are being held over the fire for doing it once, because it breaks the image of solidarity. As per the articles of people doing things pissing off others like Silverman by scabbing without ~technically scabbing and so on, the studios are sitting smug going "eh, we'll get 'indie's. We'll get money from subscribers watching our old stuff. We'll get international films" until people stop making use of the loopholes for personal gain on things the unions can not ~force or even ~gives permission to do. But then you have those that ARE shutting down even WITH permissions and excuses. Because what's right is fucking right.
Brad Pitt was under scrutiny until lately for continuing to film something overseas, which appeared to lack solidarity, but he just shut his shit down. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here heartbroken, and realizing, everything I ever believed about Gaiman was a lie. He was formerly one of my favorites. He is rapidly propelling himself towards being one of the most vile ~technical not a scabbers I can see that I will never allow myself to support again, while monkey training fans who aren't willing to think deeply.
This right here: I'm going to remove who made the statement, and paste David Zaslav over, so you can see how it looks when it's Not An Author Of A Favorite Blorbo
DAVID ZASLAV, MAYBE??? (in this thought exercise)
Pretend Iger or Zaslav said that. A person who is naturally in solidarity will just say, "Yes, it will impact us, even if we have different guilds, we stand in solidarity and will not continue production". It is very, very fuckin weird corporate speak to go, Well, WGA and SAG are striking against my show carrier, so We Can Not Use People From Those Unions. That's. That's big ick. Put the picture of a CEO you know is a dickbag next to it and read it again. That doesn't even say we don't intend to continue. Just who can't be involved. Similarly, he has used phrases like "As part of WGA, I Have To Strike", not want to. Scroll his wall. Where's his real big support?
Things I see: Watch my show, watch my show, tell people to watch my show (advertise for me), I Wish My Distributor Would Comply, Me, Me Me Me, Me.
And then a friend of mine that worked in comics shattered my heart worse. They were basically like, yeah, duh, he's from the comic book space since the 80s. They're non-union and even anti union. Not everyone in unions like even being in the union. Comics are a very Every Man For Himself environment and toxic as fuck about competition. He does not know how to be a meaningful contributor to a union.
So then I sat there, with my heart in pieces in my hands, and went to unlist my Good Omens videos, because I can't bring myself to look at it again. Other podcasters are closing up shop for the same reason. Any influencer that's even not union yet, caught advertising for studios whether paid or ORGANIC EVEN, can be blocked from SAG entry in the future, and some producers like the one in question is fine with bright eyed fans of themselves unwittingly crushing their dreams for their own gain. People even with union waivers to work a job are going, no this is wrong. No, I pass. No, don't do this, we're in this together, everyone takes hits.
Again I point to Witcher fandom. The guy was like well it ~TECHNICALLY didn't break the rules but I see how it breaks Image Of Solidarity so I'll delete my tweets about it. Then on tumblr side you get the little content addict goblins trying to crush out anyone that IS making the personal decision to restrain or cut cords because, frankly, Neil is being loud as shit.
Meanwhile SAG or WGA members are deadass like. Can someone explain to me how this shit isn't scabbing? (Not Neil, specifically, but the image of it) Like, tell me, please, actors and producers beg, how is this not scabbing, while we're all making sacrifices.
The reason studios are smug is because they know. They know it is human nature to climb over people, to find workarounds, to try to place themselves first, and that they can starve the guild until people start causing dissent by acting like this. People afraid of losing their cuts. People afraid of losing rank in the market and, while retweeting YEE GUILD stuff, still maneuvering to try to put themselves above the others sweating with them in a market that's about to crunch and restrict job availability, still posing themselves forward individually while citing Thin Lines. You know what I think of when I hear about Thin Lines? Blue ones.
Meanwhile creators of other shows like say, Gotham Knights, just deadass stopped tweeting about their shit, even things Not Directed By Studio. Because it's fucking selfish, and looks bad, and many have narrowed it down to "THANKS FOR THE FANART" or "<3333 thanks" to fans, not HEY, TUNE IN AT 8/7 CENTRAL AND ADVERTISE MY SHIT LOL "THIN LINE"
There are things they can not enforce in text while being fair (or in cases like secondary boycott damages, announce/enforce at all as anything more than a suicide bomb last ditch effort when they're willing to dead stop to the cascading legal battles). And there are people that cartwheel past and through those like greased pigs going WELL TECHNICALLY. There are those that make mistakes and go "shit sorry didn't mean to look like that I'll delete". There are those apologizing for not talking to fans about their work more. And then there's the motherfuckers broadcasting how to watch and the technicalities their production could be uninterrupted under.
Ever notice Neil doesn't say "we?" it's not "we're in this together." "We decided," it's not We. He, who "has" to strike, and is relentlessly advertising his shit and just saying, well we just cant use WGA/SAG people, addresses it as a detached thing: The WGA has said. The WGA's intent. The WGA, some distant other party he seems to feel unfortunate as an IP owner to be part of, someone who makes infinitely more money than your average working class writer or actor. Pay the fuck attention to who is going "JUSTICE FOR ME BUT NOT FOR THEE" or worse, just talks about the strike like a sidebar inconvenience fans can just hope stops messing up their shows, rather than centering the lives of creatives being fucked up.
Gaiman is worth over 18 million. He is not one of these little barely paid people struggling. And he is increasingly proving, not only does he not give a shit, he at best is treating it like an inconvenience and encouraging fans to focus on and support his product, and thus the studios, rather than centering the dialogue on the strike and the suffering workers like everybody else is. Even when his actions don't blatantly betray him, his verbage does. This is why it's never "we", but "the WGA", as a different, detached body, and not being able to use WGA/SAG people. Like, ah, I see, you're only union because it's mandatory to join the union in the US, and you didn't want locked out of the US scene, but the union itself is a fucking inconvenience to you. This is the opposite of Neat.
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Fight Club in the Age of Big Tech
Fight Club, written by Chuck Palahniuk, follows an unnamed protagonist who, disillusioned and suffering from insomnia, attends multiple support groups for people with various afflictions. On a business trip he meets Tyler Durden, and together they form Fight Club, which expands and evolves into Project Mayhem, a terrorist organisation based on anarchy and anti-consumerism.
Today, despite the backlash against globalisation and the waning of American power, consumerism still abounds, especially in the digital world. This in China as well as the West — Amazon and Alibaba are two of the largest retail companies in the world, both imperial in their scope and reach. And it is not hard to see echoes of the protagonist’s experience here — our online shopping experiences have removed us from the high street, where we otherwise might have met friends and gone out for coffee; targeted advertising and surveillance capitalism has eroded our privacy and allowed faceless corporations into our homes; and the supremacy of huge corporations has reduced our consumer choices, giving us the illusion of choice (how many times do you go on Amazon looking for a product, and see numerous listings of essentially identical products?).
Big Tech would position itself as the disrupter, upending our previous way of life to liberate us, connect us, and give us greater freedom. Social media was supposed to help oppressed peoples defeat autocracy. But what if Big Tech is now the face of faceless consumer culture? What if that is what we should be liberating ourselves from? In Fight Club, the goal of Project Mayhem was to erase human history so that we could start afresh; the new society would be primal, free of societal controls. What would that mean today? Destroying and erasing the Internet?
And yet it is in the digital world that people find their communities. Fight Club is a novel about the search for identity, finding escape and meaning when we’re alienated in the real world. In the digital space, people can find others like themselves and form bonds. For the most part this is innocuous, enriching, liberating; it can also mean that, like in the novel, people retreat into echo chambers and fall down a pathway to extremism. Like in Fight Club, it can lead people to do things they never thought they were capable of.
Towards the end of the novel, we find out that Tyler Durden was a projection of the protagonist’s self-conscious. In his desperation and disillusionment, the protagonist creates this idealised version of what, on some level, he wants to be. Might we, in creating online personas for the digital space, be experiencing something similar?
#reading#writers#book recommendations#book review#bookish#booklover#booklr#books#ChatGPT#Fight Club#Chuck Palahniuk#consumerism#globalization#digital world#Big Tech#surveillance capitalism#privacy#social media
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THE HYPNAGOGIC:HOUR PODCAST. EPISODE 58, JULY 10, 2023. (PART I)
Transcript Below. Listen to the Intro Music & Backing Soundtrack if you like HERE
ERWIN: Alright, thank you again to Bushwacked, and with the top of the hour ad-roll finished, let’s get to the first item on the docket – We are, at the time of going live, T-Minus five and a half hours from hitting the road and beginning our preliminary investigation. If you’re just joining us and you haven’t had time to check out the episode back-logs, uh, starting today, Dylan, myself, my sister, and our good friend and roommate Emilia will be doing a field assignment for this very program in Moonwood Mill. We’ll be gone for the next three days following up on leads and anonymous tips live and in-person, and next Monday, if all goes according to plan, we’ve got a major breaking story to share with you.
DYLAN: Are you going to fill everyone – including those of us going on the trip [he snickers, perking a playful brow at Erwin] – in on what this mysterious field assignment actually is or is this just a teaser for next week so we can finish up early tonight and go to bed at some point? [A pointed glance is directed at Erwin, knowing that there’s no way to know when the last time he actually went to sleep was.]
ERWIN: This would have been a killer place to put in a second ad-roll for PowerSip but they won’t email me back so– Marketing department at PowerSip, if you’re listening, you are missing out on your peak demographic here and a prime outlet willing to become your corporate shills – no one that does sports drinks fruit-flavored toxic waste, it’s all gamers and guys like us, so y’know, think about it.
DYLAN: For legal reasons, The Hypnagogic Hour does not promote drinking PowerSip instead of sleeping–
ERWIN: This is why they won’t email me back – “for legal reasons”, shut up, the FDA tried to close up shop three different times, okay, we know what it is, it’s got so much caffeine in it that if you drink a whole one in less than ten minutes you can smell gravitational fields and if you drink more than two a day your heart temporarily stops – But, like me, if you have more important stuff to do than lie unconscious for hours while Big Business uses clandestine military-grade EMP-beam technology to forcefully alter your dreams with product placements and advertisements being shoved into your subconscious, it gets the job done.
DYLAN: We’re not even five minutes in and already, I don’t even know where to start with that. [He blinks a few times, seemingly dazed by the whirlwind of words that were just hurled out of Erwin’s mouth.] Back to the field assignment–
#Sims 4 Story#TS4 Edit#The Sims 4#TS4#TS4 Story#ts4 simblr#The Hypnagogic:Hour#Erwin Pries#Dylan Sigworth
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Built to Last
Not knowing an ad’s genesis, I make it a rule to refrain from commenting on it, but there are times when exceptions to the rule are necessary:
Appalled by commercial after commercial appearing on a recent Super Bowl, I didn’t hold back, dismissing the dozens that were dismissible, praising the one that wasn’t.
Impressed by the long overdue recognition of my former agency, Ammirati & Puris, I didn’t hold back there either, acknowledging what was great about a shop most everyone considered stellar. Like other once-great-now-gone firms victimized then extinguished by holding company avarice, Ammirati’s rightly celebrated work endures.
Australia not only has earned a reputation for inventiveness when it comes to films and scripted television drama, they are marvelously iconoclastic when it comes to advertising, best reflected in the spot, “Dumb Ways to Die.” Suspend judgement on the wickedly direct, very unsettling title and watch; you’ll see why Australia is home to some of the best creative work ever.
Given the deep respect I have for Yvon Chouinard and the company he founded, Patagonia, years ago I cited one of the print ads I hold in high regard, recognizing that to this day remains true to the company’s core values.
That makes four examples in nearly 750 posts written over more than 13 years, so I often don’t give in to the need to play the critic, but am reminded of this because Chouinard was in the news recently, this time with a New York Times guest editorial, where he observes:
“The company I founded turns 50 this year. People ask me how it has managed to stick around so long when the average life span of a corporation is less than 20 years. I tell them it’s been our unrelenting focus on quality, which includes making things that last and that cause the least amount of harm to our planet.”
He observes that critics,
“thought we were crazy for repairing our own gear and urging our customers to buy less. They said our focus on quality would drive up prices and put our products out of reach.
“But the naysayers were wrong.”
Then goes on to say,
“Quality is smart business. Even during economic downturns, people don’t stop spending. In our experience, instead of wanting more, they value better.”
Patagonia makes stuff – climbing gear, all-weather apparel, a variety of outdoor equipment – but step back from the items they produce and you see not things, you see values – durability, sustainability, longevity that borders on timeless, unimpeachable, and eternal.
I work in a business that doesn’t make stuff; at its best, it makes ideas; ideas that find their voice in all forms of advertising and marketing, in colleague support when its needed most, in client service at its best, when it solves problems, pursues opportunities, and builds enduring relationships.
It’s a business to which my former advertising agency, Ammirati & Puris, dedicated itself, explaining, in part, the post I wrote about it, in an industry where fewer such shops exist, seemingly losing their sense of mission, vision, and purpose.
It’s a business to which The Art of Client Service dedicates itself, explaining, in part, why I’ve written three editions over the last 20-plus years, and always am thinking how I can help people get better at what they do.
And it’s the business to which Yvon Chouinard and Patagonia dedicates itself, explaining in part, why it could succeed when predictions said couldn’t.
As Chouinard points out, “the poor can’t afford cheap goods.” Clients can’t afford cheap advertising either, or short-changed client service, or work that is perishable, disposable, and forgettable, something all of us should keep in mind the next time we search for something cheap, which often means, something not worth whatever you paid for it.
A concluding thought: “Built to last” is a fitting way to end the year; the next time we connect, it will be 2024. To repeat what I said in my last post, if you’re traveling to see family or friends, by all means travel safe.
Thursday also is Roberta’s and my 26th wedding anniversary, another thing that’s built to last. Happy anniversary Honey! Xoxo mbb
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So i found MazMs yellow bricks indiegogo page last night. Link is here!
and oh boy this is a good insight on MazM.
"MazM means “forming stories” and “bearing fruits” in Korean. Our vision is to bring timeless stories to life in the form of games, a vessel that enables unparalleled immersion and engagement. When written in the English alphabet, it looks like 'a' and 'z' are stuck in between books. This means that we are a team that covers everything 'from A to Z' when it comes to creating interactive experiences based on literary classics.
Yellow Bricks is just our first game in the series. Due to the amazing feedback we received from the community when we launched in Korea, we're able to confirm that development is currently underway of classics like 'Jekyll and Hyde' and 'The Little Prince"
Note that there is no mention of Phantom of the Opera. However, they said the Little Prince is underway, this means two things.
Either:
A. It got shelved and POTO replaced it, or
B. There are blueprints and plans but they just haven't released any yet.
There is also the fact that The Wizard of Oz and The Little Prince are children's books, or at least books children could enjoy. Phantom of the Opera and Jekyll and Hyde are gothic literature. The indiegogo to raise funds for Yellow Bricks' ENG release flopped dramatically. A mere 148/10,000 dollars :(
They must have assumed that the west didn't like the cuter style of yellow bricks and shifted genres/audiences with the release of Jekyll and Hyde. Once JNH succeeded they were more set on the darker visuals.
I also noticed in some of the screenshots and clips of Yellow Bricks that it seemed alot more interactive. Yes POTO and JNH had puzzles but it was more like an interactive book, but I guess thats the point. Still it was quite boring. Pechka had the 10 endings but overall it wasn't like, too riveting, interesting story though. It's an original work and I think they were trying to experiment.
But with the release of Hyde and Seek and Thy Creature (board/fighting game and bullet hell) I think they are going back to their roots. MazM is adapting and I'd love to see Yellow Bricks and their Little Prince game get their western release. Back then MazM was a niche group, but I think now they can raise funds. They have a loyal western fanbase, as small as it is.
They also seem to have a Japanese audience. In the website, Yellow Bricks was stated to have recieved a warm welcome in JP with a 4.9 star rating. There's also the JP Thy Creature account. MazM is spreading its roots, here's to hoping Thy Creature is a success! Really, tell all your friends about MazM if you can, they are a niche company and I've heard that lately they've been having money issues. Common theories I've heard is because of poor managing of marketing. The discord server is barely moderated. HNS was definitely released to make money for Thy Creature. They only started advertising after the game's release? Definitely tied to a lack of funding.
They've won awards, and I hope that means something
Edit: I found Growing Seeds Corps Crunchbase! Along with their website! And here's some information from it:
Note that Growing Seeds is MazMs affiliate/parent company afaik
It was established on Mar 15, 2013
2. "Growing Seeds Corporation is an independent app development company focused on developing early childhood education apps for its users.The company plans to monetize on the increased popularity of mobile devices by developing smart learning apps suitable for children. The company’s products include mobile games designed to cultivatemathematical skills in elementary students."
This may be an outdated bio, but it's certainly interesting and may prove my earlier theory that they changed audiences. On their official website, there's another kids game and Yellow Bricks on it. There was also a coming soon? Definitely abandoned website.
#MazM#mazm hyde and seek#mazm jekyll and hyde#mazm phantom of the opera#mazm thy creature#Mazm pechka
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Fanfic: Blade Runner Starring Donald Duck Chapter 1 - A Hot Meal in a Cold City (DuckTales x Blade Runner)
chapter 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | MORE COMING SOON...
READ NOW ON AO3!
Early in the 21st Century, THE MCDUCK CORPORATION advanced robot evolution into the Y phase - a being virtually identical to a human - known as a Replicant. The 5Y Replicants were superior in strength and agility, and at least equal in intelligence, to the genetic engineers who created them. Replicants were used Off-World as slave labor, in the hazardous exploration and colonization of other planets. After a devastating mutiny by a 5Y combat team in an Off-World colony, Replicants were declared illegal on earth - under penalty of death. Special police squads - BLADE RUNNER UNITS - had orders to shoot to kill, upon detection, any trespassing Replicant. This was not called execution. It was called retirement.
+++
Duckburg. November 2019.
Not that the month matters. Seasons don’t change in this city, not anymore.
The overgrowth of buildings in this ever-expanding urban jungle helps to foster a deep-seated chill that's always there, always on the move through the cracks and crevices, just like its citizens. The rain, slightly acidic from our own technological hubris, is so omnipresent that everything, be it structure, machine, or duck seems to sag with the humidity, even when it’s not raining.
Not much natural light shines through to the streets anymore. The buildings, smog, and general unease slowly filter away the little warm glow the world has left to offer. But don’t worry. The abundant and colorful neon signs, and massive video screens on floating blimps and skyscraper faces provide the city with its own kind of plastic shine.
This was my domain, where cultures blend into a gray, indeterminate sludge and people grow their living like a fungus taking their fill of a stinking carcass.
To my left, a salesman shouting above the cloud of chatter surrounding their cart of fur. False fur. The killing of animals for pelts was outlawed by penalty of death years ago. To my right, a club leeching its magenta light, loud music, and shallow promise of pleasure out into this cramped yet bustling side street. Behind me, a storefront window covered in ancient snowy screens, hiding a graveyard of every piece of gadgetry that was once on top of the world and suddenly casually tossed aside for the next big thing. To my front, the newspaper in my hands, full of classifieds attracting any joe schmoe looking for the latest addiction more potent than any drug, natural or synthesized: a steady paycheck.
Pity they don’t advertise for killers in any newspaper. That was my job. Ex-cop. Ex-blade runner. Ex-killer.
My stomach rumbled, hollow with hunger. I looked at my watch. It was about the standard time for a meal. I stood up and adjusted the collar on my trench coat. The noodle bar I had my eyes on was just a few feet down the street. Any protection from the dreary dampness of the trickling rain was welcomed by anyone, especially me without an umbrella in a sea of them walking by. I stepped out from the canopy I had taken shelter under and made the journey using the folded-up newspaper as my umbrella. My black shoes clunked on the asphalt and splashed puddles up onto unsuspecting ankles.
The hum of a video blimp passed overhead and I looked up. It was showing the same tired advertisement of a family sitting back and grinning while their own top-of-the-line robotic servant did the housework. The cheery voice-over reiterated this, “Use your new friend as a personal body servant or a tireless field hand -- the custom tailored genetically engineered humanoid replicant designed especially for your needs!” Empty hope for those that couldn’t emigrate Off-World, whether for lack of money, or abundance of stubbornness. I envied those people. At least they had something to strive for-a better life, either for them or their fellow duck.
Like a fly to the light, I was drawn to the paper lanterns dangling over the metal canopy of the noodle bar. The magenta and cold blue in my peripheral gave way to the clinical white of the kitchen as I claimed an empty stool and shivered at a passing breeze. The chef was speaking Japanese at someone down the bar. Not my second, or even third or fourth language, but I could pick out a word here and there. A benefit of living in a melting pot. You knew every language and none of them at the same time.
As soon as he looked my way, I nodded at him and said, “Gimme four.”
He gave me a curious look and said something I couldn’t understand. The only word I picked out was “two.”
“No, four,” I corrected, holding up four fingers. “Two, two, four.” He repeated himself and I didn’t bother to press the issue, except to add, “And noodles.” I sat down, ignoring the next thing he said, whatever it was.
I was casually but emptily glancing about the joint when not 20 seconds later, a steaming bowl of soup was set down in front of me, two slices of some brown substitute protein floating atop the noodles. Reminding myself to brush up on my Japanese for next time, I snagged some chopsticks from a canister, broke them, and rubbed off the splinters. Sucking in a mouthful of noodles, I savored the broth’s salty umami (another stray word I knew). The rich flavor profile was a simple pleasure in a necessary step to sustaining a wayward life.
I heard strong footsteps approach and stop behind me. I recognized the tone of police-issued combat boots. A glance over my shoulder confirmed my suspicions. Duckburg PD. A voice spoke a potpourri of many languages. I bit into the soft protein and waved the chef over.
“Duckard-san,” the chef said, pointing to the cops, “He said you are under arrest.”
“Got the wrong guy, pal,” I responded loosely.
The voice said something different in the same mishmash of tongues, a side effect of the melting pot boiled over in this city.
“He said you are Blade Runner,” said the cook.
“Tell him I’m eating,” I insisted, slurping up more noodles. This was starting to get on my nerves, not that it wasn’t a common occurrence, up until the person behind me mentioned one name in his next jumbled sentence. The noodles turned mushy and acrid in my mouth. I turned slowly, taking in my persistent botherer in full uniform, his wiry hairs sticking out of a familiar maroon stocking cap poking out of his helmet.
I should’ve known.
“Mallard, huh?”
“Hai!” said the cop.
I swallowed.
Fishing my billfold from my coat, I paid the chef, tip included, and took the bowl with me. If a bluecoat beak was gonna steal me away from a good meal, I’d be darned if I’d just let it sit there to waste away. Poor chef worked hard enough for my chin-yen.
I followed the cop to his vehicle, a sleek, but rugged spinner parked in an alley next to the noodle bar. He had the courtesy to open the passenger door for me, and I stepped in, careful not to slosh my soup. He shut me in then got in himself. With the press of a button, the spinner hummed to life. Slowly, with a great hiss, we lifted off the ground, leaving the entire side street behind in a cloud of steam. The spinner joined the flowing traffic of flying vehicles traveling in between the tallest buildings in the city hundreds of feet above the riff-raff. Our view was surrounded by giant screens plastered with scantily clad ladies fondling the hottest soft drink, or the latest technological convenience. Cheap, but effective. The public needed some kind of distraction.
I slurped some soup noisily. “Been a while, Feth.”
“Hardheaded as ever, Don,” he said, tossing his helmet into the backseat and adjusting his wool cap.
“Y’know I wasn’t gonna make it easy for ya.” I understood every bit of gibberish that left his pointed bill at the noodle bar. Every cop worth their salt knew cityspeak, that funny amalgamation of Japanese, Italian, German, what have you.
“I’m just trying to do my job,” said Feth.
“And I quit mine. Guess one of us can’t get what they want.”
“Tell that to Mallard. He says it’s serious.”
“Must be if he upped you to the Blade Runner unit. Congrats, by the way.” I gestured toward him with the chopsticks, cynical honey coating my words.
“...not quite yet,” he said, eyes focused on the “road” ahead.
We didn’t speak much after that. Honestly, I felt sorry for ol’ Feth. He always seemed to me like the type that had to grow up too quickly, not that that type was uncommon these days. He always had some kind of odd new habit he was obsessed over, probably a fleeting attempt to hang on to some childlike sense of discovery and innocence. Hence why I was the one who had to babysit him on jobs more often than not. Well, there wasn’t gonna be time for that if he was looking to be a Blade Runner.
I thought I had gotten free of that life, free from skittering around this city’s underbelly like a roach. A killer is followed by ghosts, I suppose. Those ghosts seemed heck bent on throwing me back into the fray, and I had no energy to fight it. So I relished the last of my hot meal in Feth’s spinner, which was now descending onto one of many landing pads atop the octagonal column housing my former place of employment.
We touched down gently and Feth smiled at me, his bright eyes carrying heavy bags. “Welcome back, Don.”
“No red carpet?” I grunted as I exited the vehicle, leaving the empty bowl on the passenger seat, my last remnant of warm comfort in this cold, lifeless evening.
#darkwing duck#ducktales#fanfiction#donald duck#disney ducks#drake mallard#blade runner#fethry duck#crossover#pkna#scrooge mcduck#noir
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On September 1st 1971, Glasgow’s sole remaining gas street lamp in North Portland Street was lit for the last time by Lord Provost Sir Donald Liddle.
Every street in every town, and every city around Scotland and indeed most of the world were first lit by gas, I can’t remember them, the first street I grew up in had the big concrete poles that had the large electric light on top, I thought gas lighting had disappeared way long before the 70’s.
Gas street lights were introduced to Glasgow in 1818 by the Glasgow Gas-Light Co. The Glasgow Police Act of 1866 authorised the Police Board to install lighting in streets, courts and common stairs. In 1869 the city acquired Glasgow’s two gas companies and by 1870 the Gas Department had installed up 10,657 street lights and 17,284 stair lights in the city. By 1914 there were 19,437 gas lamps in the city’s public streets, and 1,541 electric lamps. In the private streets and courts there were 6,527 gas lamps and 126 electric lamps.
At it’s peak the Corporation employed 1,050 workers in the Lighting Department alone!
The first electric lights were introduced to Glasgow in 1893. As electricity became more popular, gas lights were phased out. By 1955 the Corporation maintained 7,723 gas lights compared to 33,186 electric street lights.
Gas lighting continued in Glasgow until at least the mid 70’s but only in the closes. Most of the stairs had gas lamps on each floor, but some had been converted to electricity and needed a triangular key to turn them on and off so no self timers back then.
Among the pics is the Robert Louis Stevenson poem Leerie, The word leerie is perhaps best known nowadays from this nostalgic poem The character, ‘Leerie’, is depicted as a romantic wanderer who charms the imagination of the child-narrator, trapped behind the window of his house in the evening dusk and musing on ambition.
The word has inevitably fallen out of use as the twentieth century progressed. A fairly late example occurs in The People’s Friend (1953), noting it is ‘only about 20 years since most “leeries” disappeared.’
The oldest known evidence for use of the term leerie is found in an article from The Scotchman, a short-lived Scots newspaper of the early nineteenth century, where we read that ‘the Scotsman may lang be the leery o his countramen’s min’s’ (1812). As a point of interest, the paper ran only briefly, from 1812-1813, and was published by John Mennons, who in 1783 initiated publication of the Glasgow Advertiser, now better known as The Herald. In the spirit of the quotation, the present author set out in pursuit of further linguistic illumination, but with some chagrin must now relate the murky origins of this word of the season. Our oldest quotation evidence records a metaphorical use of the word, linking light with clear thinking. Typically, we would expect a metaphorical meaning to evolve from a more literal one, but earlier evidence for leerie as a literal ‘lamplighter’ is not forthcoming. While it is probably safe to assume that leerie was in use on the lips of Scots speakers before it was captured in print, in 1812 the trail goes cold, and the etymology of the word is unclear. The Dictionary of the Scots Language attributes the word’s inception to the children’s alliterative rhyme: ‘leerie, leerie, light the lamps’, but how this rhyme arose still remains a mystery.
Leerie can also refer to the light of a lamp or candle, or the lamp itself, though these uses of the term are less widely known and attested. Again, many illustrations of this meaning are literary and metaphorical. In a poem of 1888, Robert Bennett wrote: ‘Noo the gowan shuts its e’e, And the starnie lichts its leerie’, the brightness of the daisy’s eye receding as the stars come out in the gloaming. Use of the word leerie is rare and usually historical after this time, so with twilight falling on this aptly autumnal term, this seems an appropriate place to end.
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Local SEO Services in the UK: Why Choose Organic for Your Website?
SEO is a term that comes with a lot of baggage. The best way to understand the power of SEO is to understand the basics at work. SEO stands for Search Engine Optimization and it has been in existence since search engines started taking over content delivery from television, radio, and newspapers. The point of SEO doesn’t change very much – it’s still all about getting your business noticed on search platforms by providing the best content possible to potential customers. It’s not a secret that this takes time and patience but if done right can be very rewarding. Seo services UK
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Why do an Organic SEO strategy?
We need to do it because according to the infographic from Statista, organic SEO search was responsible for over 90% of all searches in 2016.
An Organic SEO strategy is a marketing strategy that uses a range of methods to improve the ranking of web pages or websites on natural search engine result pages. While not guaranteeing success, it does typically provide more relevant and useful traffic. The main goal with an Organic SEO strategy is to create content that is compelling and engaging, so more people will share it with their friends and family.
What are the Top 5 Benefits of Local SEO Services?
The internet is a big place. With billions of pages, it can be hard to find what you’re looking for. When you’re searching for something, how do you know that the page you found is the best one?
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OTTOS and SEO Consultants are the go-to people for Birmingham and Wolverhampton’s digital marketing needs. OTTOS has been working hard to stay ahead of the game for over 15+ years. They are proud to offer services that cover everything from website development and search engine optimisation to content marketing, email marketing and more. SEO Consultants is a Birmingham-based agency that offers a variety of services from strategy consulting to social media management, web design, digital advertising, email marketing, and local SEO in Birmingham and Wolverhampton – they have it all covered!
There are many reasons why you should choose OTTOS or SEO Consultants! They have been working in this industry for so long that they know everything about it. With all of their experience combined with new innovative ideas to push your business forward, OTTOS or SEO Consultants can help your business grow online. It is much easier to get your business noticed in today’s highly competitive and cluttered world of commercials. Companies are finding themselves resorting to more innovative methods to stay relevant and on top of the game, which is why SEO agencies are having a field day. One Design Technologies is an SEO agency that has made it their mission to help companies find their footing in the digital world. One Design Technologies is one of the most trusted SEO consulting firms in Birmingham and Wolverhampton. The sky’s the limit when you work with One Design Technologies, where they believe that nothing can be achieved unless it has been imagined first.
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I posted 5,544 times in 2022
169 posts created (3%)
5,375 posts reblogged (97%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@kelpforestdwellers
@chibi-oneiros
@beingatoaster
@cipheramnesia
@dykeredhood
I tagged 1,223 of my posts in 2022
#lmao - 24 posts
#lol - 21 posts
#:3 - 9 posts
#yeah - 7 posts
#great post op - 5 posts
#yeah... - 5 posts
#o7 - 5 posts
#this guy gets it - 4 posts
#it doesn't stop being magic just because you know how it works - 4 posts
#cymru am byth - 3 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#maybe the biggest change will come when we won't have to change much at all / when maniacs holler 'grow grow grow' we can choose to be small
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Got jury duty coming up? What better time than now to learn about the extremely cool and good things you can do on that jury if you get empaneled? (because learning about them after you've been empaneled is a crime)
710 notes - Posted September 11, 2022
#4
Hey gang, guess what!
Chicken Butt
🐔🍑
847 notes - Posted November 27, 2022
#3
Not sure I'm the exact right person for this oral history, but since the birdsite is imploding and advertisers might fucking try some shit over here it's a good time for all of us to remember everyone's favorite meme: "John C Miller, CEO and President of the Denny's Corporation, is a Capitalist Running Dog and his wealth must be seized and redistributed to the people”
Back in '16 or so, Denny's had a reasonably large presence on this site, from a non-artistic standpoint it's fair to say that whoever was running that blog did a pretty good job of keeping up to date on the current memes and staying relevant. Many of us, myself included, kinda just got used to them being here and let it happen, gave it little thought, maybe gave it a chuckle from time to time. At some point someone was like 'actually it sucks that a major corporation is trying to hang out with us and be our friend, they were, of course, absolutely right, and their genius response was to create a meme that they couldn't fucking coopt, hence "John C Miller, CEO and President of the Denny's Corporation, is a Capitalist Running Dog and his wealth must be seized and redistributed to the people" became the fun new thing.
"Coopt this you old so and so" was the idea and it worked pretty well, they did try it, but in a way that clearly was dancing around the central premise everyone knew they wouldn't be able to engage with. They stuck around for a little while longer, but it was clearly a major turning point in their ability to use this site to hang out with us, a good thing.
The point, as advertisers try to find new, less feral places to spend their advertising budgets, is that we don't have to just ignore them, that's a good start, but we can bite their fucking hands if they try it. We do not have to play nice with advertisers trying to be our friends, we can be feral.
Anyhow, I definitely am not positive I've gotten every detail right, so if there's any major corrections anyone needs to add, feel free, memedoccumentation had a post about it that helped me refresh my memory although my analysis of aspects differ from this point in history, as it were, but if you want to read up a bit more this is a solid starting point that has some fun examples
1,325 notes - Posted November 7, 2022
#2
Happy 13 year anniversary (July 25th 2022) to the last time the United States raised its Federal Minimum Wage! In an astounding and unacceptable transfer of wealth to the already wealthy, it's lost a full 27% of its purchasing power since then!!
7,355 notes - Posted July 25, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
BTW don't click any NYT links today (December 8th 2022), the NYT Union have called for a digital boycott in support of their 24 hour walk-out
10,405 notes - Posted December 8, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#lmao my number 1 post is literally one I made this morning great work everyone
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I posted 3,874 times in 2022
That's 1,752 more posts than 2021!
97 posts created (3%)
3,777 posts reblogged (97%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@kitawolf12
@aliwonderland
@bixbythemartian
@fire-fira
@milomeepit
I tagged 236 of my posts in 2022
#nicholas cage - 4 posts
#unreality - 4 posts
#oh - 4 posts
#but like - 3 posts
#animal death - 3 posts
#food - 2 posts
#this is directed at facebook - 2 posts
#murder - 2 posts
#violent - 2 posts
#horror - 2 posts
Longest Tag: 65 characters
#and those words should be picked by the community that needs them
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
A vegan person who buys from companies that are burning down large chunks of the rainforest for farming, is going to be less environmentally friendly than a person who buys everything they eat, including beef and chicken, from small local farms. Vice versa, someone who is eating vegan and actively conscious of where their food is coming from, avoiding fad-products like quinoa and agave, and getting the protein in their diet from like, beans they bought at a farmers market, is going to have less of a negative environmental impact than someone who’s buying fast food produced mega corporation burgers everyday day. You can be plant based and environmentally conscious, you can eat meat and be environmentally conscious. You can be gluten free, keto, paleo, whole food only, whatever and be environmentally conscious. But just being whatever thing doesn’t automatically make you so, you have to actually learn where the food available to you is coming from and make responsible choices based on facts about specific things not generalizations, and you should not assume that someone isn’t trying to be environmentally conscious based off a one word description of their diet.
4 notes - Posted April 8, 2022
#4
I don’t know why it works but if your noodles are boiling over and you just drop a little pad of butter in there it stops. I’ve never tried this without it working.
5 notes - Posted May 13, 2022
#3
Actually I think Thomas Sanders *does* owe content to the people paying him money under the assumption it would cause content to happen more frequently. Like if you say “support us so we can create more” and then you end up creating less, that’s at best a mistake that Thomas is making that negatively impacts his fan base. At worst it’s a lie to get people to give him money. I don’t really think he’s doing it on purpose but I explained the situation to some of my friends and they went “huh, that sounds almost like a scam” and it kind of does. Does Thomas owe me content? No, I didn’t pay him for it. But there’s quite a few people who I do think at the very least he owes an apology to.
6 notes - Posted March 11, 2022
#2
There is a website called Caredash, that is advertising itself as a way to find mental health professionals. It works with betterhelp. My mom is a therapist. Her name is listed on this website without her permission, and there is no way to schedule an appointment with her through this site. If you attempt to schedule an appointment with her the site will tell you that they were not able to match you with her, and then will recommend you some other therapists in the area that they receive a commission from for signing you on with them. They appear to be doing this with every mental health professional they can find on the internet. This is really fucked up.
12 notes - Posted August 2, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
My favorite part of Our Flag Means Death is the way that *trying to kill your friend* is treated. Break ups are absolutely way more serious than attempted murder here. Saying something problematic like “sewing is women’s work” is about equally serious to attempted murder. It’s a bit of a red flag and we probably need to talk about it before it gets out of hand.
12 notes - Posted April 25, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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>:o