More on Solanin

My plans of finishing this comic in a short amount of time (one sitting) were shot down pretty fucking fast after I read the fifth chapter of it. It's rare for me to read something that makes me literally have to fucking stop and reflect in the middle of a story. It was just captivating to me.

What's strange is that the chapter plays out different from the rest of the story so far. It doesn't contain any spoilers, and instead explains about a character who has been mentioned very lightly up to this point. While the interactions with the main character are important, I'm sure, it feels almost like an aside.

(viz translated his name as Rip, which makes more sense to us non-slants)

I want you to read it. Like wise, I have uploaded this entire chapter (14 pages) here, or you can click on the image, so, please. Be captivated with me.

I am afraid to continue the story because I have a growing fear that it might not live up to the image I'm painting of it in my mind, but I'm pretty optimistic at this point.

Who cares?

"The way I see it, adults are made up of "who cares?". I have potbelly, but who cares? My nose hairs show, but who cares? As long as I'm not caught, who cares? I'm totally insincere, but who cares? There's war, famine, disease and thousands of people are dying, but as long as I'm happy, who cares? They pay well here, so who cares?" --Inio Asano via "Solanin"

I should really probably stop reading this before it decides to hit home.

Intermission

The next person to mention Fallout 3 New Vegas to me gets a swift punch in the balls. It's not that I have any hate for the game or series, it's that from time to time a sequence of personal events will jade my judgment. Such is the case with Fallout 3.

The act of being able to finish a game in my company is something that people who do not know me ('know me' meaning in a face-to-face context) seem to find exciting. My level of frustration when I'm attempting to do even the most basic of actions in a games tends to cause amusement to those around me; it's not that I am intentionally entertaining them as much as me being mocked from the side-lines. It is a common theme that seems to run through my actual relationships (see: girlboy and redfail) that pressing through a game with me apparently falls apart. My charms, they ain't much.

I never finished Fallout 3 because I was always acting under the impression that I was playing it with Jeremy. It was unfortunate when I realized he was playing the game alone behind my back in an attempts to do and be better than me in everything he could. That's a trend that seemed to stem into the rest of our relationship too I suppose, but I'm only bitter about the Fallout thing and not the.. falling out thing. I would love to be excited with you guys about Vegas, really I would, but it seems silly for me to get worked up over an expansion who's base I didn't even finish proper.

I would also like to mention that I'm pretty sure I don't like you at all. It is pathetic and I expected it, but that doesn't make it less upsetting. I think the words "will be taking care of me" were what set me off as 'time-waste', but the complete disregard for yourself is what really made me realize you aren't good enough. It is unfortunate that you're both too stupid to realize that, but doesn't make me feel any less ill, so I pop another pill and go on my way.

Of Similarity - I

Here I am, far away from you all in Washington. You really should have come with me, it's lovely here. I will save brushing on the inane for a little while longer and instead plague your eyes with my artistic endeavors since my depart.

This is more of a concept piece.

Watching Jeremy play Spelunky is like watching an amazingly elaborate train-wreck in slow motion. It's simplistic and beautiful in it's awkwardness. While once attempting to rescue a woman, his inability to properly handle a controller cause him to continue to beat her in the face with a rock. I told him after he hit her twice that he was killing her and that he really should stop. He responded with certainty that he had not done anything wrong and that she was just fine, that he hadn't hit her even once. As his slender fingers slipped the rock once again into her skull he had the dawn of realization that she was no longer breathing. I'm quite sure that she's still lying there somewhere, bloody and forgotten.

He literally wouldn't stop asking.

This one ended how it started; poorly.

Next time I get some free moments just to be myself I'll take the time to upload some photos and things, and tell some stories that actually require a locational change.

Hey Everybody!

"Hey Doctor Nick!"

Instead of sleeping before my long plane ride today, I have instead drawn you two pictures. I really hope you enjoy my dedication towards you. <3

This first one is just a horrible sketch of this adorable person named NI CO LAS. I kind of fucked up a bit on it.

I needed a new avatar for DA and kind of went overboard with this, and made it waaaay larger than required. (since, required was 50x50..)

That is all! Next time you hear from me I will basking up the rain in lovely Washington! <3<3<3

Further Notice

After inspection, the previous post can go ahead and apply to you as well, like everyone assumed. It's definitely true, but says more about everyone else's perception than my own. <3

(still, going on record and saying I'm not being a bitch. Disappointment isn't cause for debate; live your life, be happy. Seriously.)

There was this crazy period of time in my life when I'd keep waking up next to brown people.. In Chicago. And in Dallas. And Portland. I, uh.. I had issues, I guess. Anyway, this is Vincent and I, waking up, young and in love with the city.

I'm finishing up the editing on the photos from our last wedding, and I'll be uploading my favorites before I leave for Portland this Saturday. I'm also updating our main web-page, and organizing everything for the influx of commission work that's making me love being jobless.

Jane, if you're reading this, please don't go to college. I'd much rather you just stay here with me.

Um, lol

You're not better than 'that'. That's why the harsh light of reality beams so brightly on your face. It was impressive when you fought it, now it's just pathetically expected.

The good news is that you're just like everyone else now! (:


The bad news is that being different was the most amazing thing about you. ):

Kind of Early

This is a list of the things in my life that I love and attribute to being my fathers fault. Think of it as an early Father's Day gift. This list is in no particular order.

Ninja Gaiden & Super Mario Brothers
Although I've touched on this subject before, I think the day my father came home with a NES tucked under his arms like it was a small child is still a fairly important part of my life. With the system there were two games, Mario being the one that is more or less deep in everyone's minds, especially since he's still a part of every day life. The other game being Ninja Gaiden, a ridiculously difficult game with an amazing cinematic streak. Every time I hear the first boss theme I always think of the house we lived at in Arapaho and those giant ugly brown-yellow and black fur pillows (On an unrelated note, I remember having a nightmare about vampires on those pillows.) ((Also of note would be Super Mario Brothers 3 and Bugs Bunny's Crazy Castles))

Falling Down
A movie starring Michael Douglas, and frankly my favorite movie with him in it period. The movie acts under the guise of dark comedy, which isn't much of a guise to act under, but when it's not making you smile at a man who has literally gone over the edge, it's actually relaying a very deep message. I remember every time it was on TV we'd flip to it and watch it together. I'm not sure which part captivated my father about it, if it was the comedic aspect of it or the messages about the loss of a child, I'll never be sure.

Computers
This one is kind of cheating. After watching my father and his brother tend to his broken computer, I developed an interested into what the hell was going on. My introduction to the grimy end of systems that I can't get away from these days (blue screens of death, anyone?) would be the fault of this encounter. I think more than anything though I just wanted to be a part of the group. I'm here now, guys. Got anything broken?

Fear of Spiders
Let's not talk about this one.

Rocky
The story of the underdog! We probably watched all of them at least a million times. I'm not sure what significance this has had on my life, other than the fact that I really fucking love Rocky. So, thank you for embedding it in my mind forever.

Scooby Doo (Where Are You?)
My biggest fear is that someone I love will catch me watching an episode of Scooby Doo. I literally cannot stop laughing from start to finish when one is on, and I don't have a good reason as to why. Luckily, I was never alone in this childish endeavor, as watching an episode of Scooby Doo with my father merited the same response. I often wonder what my step mother and step sisters thought of the sight of a grown man and thirteen year old boy laughing like maniacs at the antics of an animated dog and his mystery solving gang. The world may never know, but I still keep to myself when it comes to watching it now. Please, don't judge me. ):

Comedy in general
The ability to laugh and crack jokes (and appreciation of) is another one of those things that I'm just going to give to my dad. Remembering the mostly horrible jokes he'd tell me helped me carve out part of an identity during middle school, you know, that special time when nothing is for certain. My friends would often ask where I heard these jokes. In a weird way, my father is a semi-celebrity among my friends, especially strange since only my closest friends have seen him, and they probably only saw him once.

All in the Family
When Carroll O'Connor died the only person I know who was impacted as much by the loss as me was my father. Something about his roll in All in the Family just stuck with me. While I did not do the majority of my watching of this show with my father, he was the one who turned me to it initially.

Resident Evil
The horror game boom that has played a giant roll in my life probably started here. I watched my father play through the entire Resident Evil Directors Cut video game before actually playing it myself. It was campy and awful, and still is, but the entire experience was enjoyable because of my dad. The game itself found solid ground for me when I generally felt betrayed by Wesker at the end. I don't know why, but I just did.

Fatal Frame
Pure terror. Why don't more people talk about this game? It would have gone under my radar for quite a bit longer had my father not bought it and played it. Despite the myth surrounding me, I'm not *really* afraid of ghosts, but if anything was going to actually inspire that fear it would be this game.

Art
This is something I did as a kid, as most kids do. You draw, you create. The only reason I kept doing it was because someone said "Hey, your dad used to do a lot of art, it's a shame he never tried to go anywhere with it". I'm not sure why he quit, all I can really say is that if there is a dream out there somewhere that you didn't get to live and it involves art, I took up the reins a long time ago. Not entirely by choice at first, though it has since grown into my own desire to succeed at something. So thanks, I think.

Wild Sew I Don't Know

I can't stop thinking about Wild Tigers I Have Known. I'm slightly unsure why, but will try to gather my thoughts here on the subject.

For starters, the movie was nothing like I thought it was going to be. It was not very dialogue heavy, and the narrative was not fed to me like a narrative traditionally is. My expectations were exact though, and I found myself getting embarrassed and upset that I had wanted to see a movie that was just so blatantly art house and overly pretentious. It feels like every cut in the movie is a fade to black. I almost snapped about halfway through. I had worked myself up to a state that made me impossible to enjoy what I was being given.

About 3/4ths of the way through the film though, I realized that even though what I expected wasn't happening, what I was being given was actually miraculous. When I stopped being a bitch about it, the film really started to appeal to a part of me that I thought didn't even exist. Information in the film seems scarce in the way of dialogue, but when you do get it it's amazingly powerful. It's a pieced together faction of memories and reality, and while a permanent overarching story is in place, it isn't thrown at you constantly. It cuts to scenes that at the beginning slightly annoyed me, but become stronger as the film goes on, and shows you glimpses of loneliness and struggle a young boy in this position faces. They're beautifully shot. And even though the film didn't necessarily come across as sad while I was watching it, it sunk into my mind as deeply depressing upon review.

The main character, played by Malcolm Stumpf, is absolutely gorgeous on all counts. While not the strongest dialogue actor, his body language is absolutely fantastic. The film touches on tons of themes detailing this boys struggle, including some very sexual moments and several hints to suicide throughout it. He does a great job of pulling off a very believable character, and I'm still heavily invested in it.

With my current mindset, I think I love this film, but it's one of those things I'd have a hard time recommending to anyone, mostly because I'm afraid that what I took away from it might be obscure and just native to me, and could be lost on someone else. Having said that, the person I watched it with also liked it, so.. go watch it and tell me. ):