It’s all like, “Wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa.”
Archive for the ‘PSA’ Category
PSA: I would like to impart some valuable knowledge about kerning and keming. Kerning is a typography term used to describe the process of spacing out a font to make it visually pleasing and easy to read.
When type becomes too narrow, it can be difficult to read and even unintentionally misleading. Sometimes disastrously. This is called “Keming.” The name is damn clever and originated with this guy. See how the ‘r’ and ‘n’ of Kerning might, if crowded, look like “keming”? There you go. Clever.
fig. 2: “keming,” inadvertently illustrated via yimmyyayo.
Do you understand why I am bringing this up?
Keming: Don’t let it happen to you.
Stumbled over this picture and it really tickled me. “I don’t care what you say, Daddy! I love my Tusken Raider!” [Cue: “He’s A Rebel (And he’ll never, ever be any good)”.] It inspired me to share a little sad personal Funny Business.
I have a lengthy sketch I’ve written about a woman who’s dating a Tusken Raider. She’s not dating him because she’s a sand-person-perv or because she’s particularly desperate, per se. She just is. Everyone with whom she interacts stands in as the audience’s interlocutor, recognizing the bizarre fruitlessness of what she’s doing in various situations involving her dating a Tusken Raider, but to her this is all perfectly normal.
In developing this idea, I had to ask myself some questions along the way, which is the way I prefer to work — I think of something I think is funny and then ask myself questions that will help me expand on the kernel of (usually weird) humor. In this case the one question that truly lit the lamp which shed light over the whole bit was, “Can they talk to each other?” It shed light because of this:
First, I tried to picture them sitting in the Olive Garden and her saying, “This is nice. I’m glad we came, I haven’t been here for awhile.” And him hooting and waving his walking/beatdown staff around (yes, he always has the gaderffii, including at his job as an accounts payable clerk for a cafeteria supplies vendor), his bellows unintelligible.
Would she then nod and say, “Of course, they’ve changed the decor. New sconces! You’re right”? Mm. No. Not funny enough. Not right.
How about he hoots and waves the gaderffii and she pretends to understand him? “Wawawarr! Baahh! Garghh!” “My day? How sweet of you to ask. Pretty good. How about yours?” Deluded and a little funnier, but no. Still not right.
Finally, I made a writing choice: No, they absolutely cannot talk to each other. At all. Their words are totally meaningless to one another’s ears. Everything they do together is a case of tandem solitude, parallel behavior uncouched in any deeper meaning, more like comfortable coincidence than love.
“This is nice. I’m glad we came, I haven’t been to the Olive Garden for awhile.” “Bluloodoomarr! Grah! Waahh!” “Do you want to split an appetizer?” “Barrgh. [stamps gaderffii] Aroo!”
You know why that was just right on my funny meter? Because it demonstrates the frustrating absurdity of attempts at human connection. In the same place at the same time and full of totally different thoughts, dreams, and ideas of what it means? Just noising at each other in context but taking no notice of the content? That’s dating.*
You and me and everyone we’ve ever fucked is a Tusken Raider.
Unpleasant truths: now that’s Funny Business. Barrgh. Aroo.
*Unless you find that special someone, blah blah blah. Not knocking those who’ve made, or think they’ve made, it work. Just observing.
Spend Christmas shaking hands with a baby from 1945, not in a hospital. I am All For It actually. Had enough of hospitals in 2010 to hold me over for a very long while. So keep it clean out there!
Dickens December: Another Saturday night at the end of the world — Kick up your heels because why not?December 11, 2010
“The Three Party” by Hugh Lippe.
Bring in the bottled lightning, a clean tumbler, and a corkscrew.
(Charles Dickens. Nicholas Nickleby, Chapter 49.)
PSA: It’s one of the last Saturday nights of 2010 — go scare up some fun.
via hhhelloalex on the tumblr.
If he is only in it for the pussy … it’s working. I am not deterred by today’s Hot Man’s facelessness nor non-existence. I can break down exactly why this sketch of a gentleman melts my cold, cold heart.
a) Girls Like A Boy Who Plays Music.
b) Dressed like Han Solo.
c) Dressed like Han Solo (counts at least twice).
d) Looks like he could not borrow my jeans.
Emo boys, I have given you warnings in the past, but I’m still seeing these skinny jeans and “jeggings” hanging off your narrow heinies all around the town. Let me phrase it to you less delicately than in the past.
If you look like you could literally get in my pants, you are not getting in my pants.
/End PSA. Now please refer to the handsome faceless internet drawing of what a real man looks like, and eat some spaghetti, Slappy.
edit: The lyrics are from “Awake My Soul” by Mumford and Sons. Here is what I assume to be the inspiration for the drawing:
Nothing to complain about, but is it weird that I like the drawing better? It isn’t anything so explicable and logically psychological like that the facelessness implies more tantalizing possibility: I genuinely just prefer the drawing to the dude. Could be the camera angle making him look shorter and thinner. Don’t worry, guy, you are still okay. Maybe give the other one a Twinkie, though.
“Draw Batgirl” meme result by Jennifer Wang, aka mao on the lj.
We must not allow ourselves to be deflected by the ‘feminists,’ who are anxious to force us to regard the two sexes as completely equal in position and worth.
Asphinctersayswhat? Yeah. Thanks for the warning, coke-addled misogynist.
via comicallyvintage on the tumblr.
Since Batgirl’s a superhero and librarians are perceived as being innocuous, there’s no way that any of the other characters are going to be able to make the connection, right? And if the opposite of Batgirl is a librarian, what does that say about librarians? That in order to be a bad ass, they must literally transform themselves?
via Bruna Künzler on the fotolog.
Regardless of whether or not Batgirl was reinforcing popular stereotypes about librarians, she was definitely empowering a whole lot of young girls. In 1998, Yvonne Craig talked about the role that her character played in young girl’s lives:
I meet young women who say Batgirl was their role model. They say it’s because it was the first time they ever felt girls could do the same things guys could do, and sometimes better. I think that’s lovely.
“batgirl” by Saint Julia 88 on the da.
In the 60s and onward, Batgirl became a symbol of women’s empowerment. In 1972, she appeared in a public service announcement for the United States Department of Labor, in which she advocated for equal pay for women.
(“From the Library: Batgirl!” McAllister, Ashley. Bitchmedia Community Learning Library, Bitch magazine website. August 15, 2010.)
And here is that PSA:
Dig Robin’s “Holy Discontent!” exclamation.
I am for accepting equality and undenigrated respect for all. But it is true that there have been men I’ve met who do not share my view and to whom I do not consider myself equal: in those cases, I consider myself infinitely their superior.
The sick thing is there was a store like that in my mall when I was a teenager but it was called “5,7,9.” Though I can attest it carried sizes lower than 5, as to the other end of the scale, if it carried over size 9, I was unaware of it. That’s bad enough but here’s the thing: I was lucky enough to be in kind of a Cindy Crawford, not Kate Moss, era.
I’m sure that if such a store still existed, changing ideal body types would dictate that it be called something like “1,3,5.” Well, what am I talking about; such things do exist of course: Forever 21 and the Bebe, yes? Blarg.
PSA: Collarbones are beautiful, but boobs are even better. Take it to the bank. SeaQuest out!
Seymour: So, was that your boyfriend?
Enid: Josh? No, no — he’s nobody’s boyfriend, he’s just this guy that Becky and I like to torture.
Enid, Rebecca: Josh!
Enid: God, I’ll bet he’s in there jerking off.
Rebecca: I’ll bet he never jerks off.
Enid: Yeah, he’s beyond human, and stuff like that.
Rebecca: Should we leave him a note?
Enid: Sure. You got a pen?
[Rebecca pulls out a pen, Enid takes it]
Enid: [writing] Dear Josh, we came by to fuck you, but you were not home. Therefore you are gay. Signed, Tiffany and Amber.
Rebecca: I thought we decided that Josh was way too cool to be interested in sex, and that he’s the only decent person left in the world? and we would never want to bring him down to our level and all that.
Enid: Yeah, but maybe one of us should at least try.
Rebecca: No matter what happened it would be a big disaster. Let’s just try and keep everything the way it is.
Enid: Actually, I’ve got a total crush on this one guy right now, but it’s a really fucked-up situation…
Seymour: Oh yeah?
Enid: Oh wait, you met him… remember that guy Josh? I’m like practically obsessed with him, but I can’t do anything about it because Becky would freak out.
Enid: Never mind … it’s way too complicated.
Of course, she is being angsty and late-teeny and melodramatic. Even when it’s terrifying and big and exciting, it is still not at all complicated. If you like someone — tell them. No friends imposing screwy rules on you and wanting things to stay the same forever ought slow you down. We make things so intricate and barricaded away and crippling in our lives, we construct entire fantasy worlds of why it is best not to talk or act on our feelings, mainly because of being afraid of those feelings and of being hurt or rejected. (Oh, just replace all those “we’s” with “I.” I’m embarassed by this self-audit so I brought everyone else in to the picture so’s as not to feel so dorky and alone. Super-sorry.)
Here’s a little wisdom-bomb I used to drop on my buddies if we were out on the town and they were psyching themselves out of talking to a young woman who’d caught their interest. PSA: The best way to make sure that you will positively strike out with a person and never, never, ever have sexytimes and maybe spend your life with them is to NOT ASK. So roll the dice. I know it’s easier said then done, but we have to try or die alone.
All the screencaps for Ghost World Half-Day will come from a combination of sources: heartstopper, augustusgloop, and vodiak on the LJ; Movie Screenshots on the blogger; various imdb caps and old, unsourced still shots. Also I might scan some pictures from the graphic novel since I am right now looking at the spine of it in a pile of books on my desk.