Friday, May 19, 2017

Shade the Changing Girl #8

Who brought the young girl to a velociraptor fight?

• Marge Sausage was apparently only doing the art for one issue. Now I'm really going to have to dig deep to find anything positive to say about this comic book.

• Oh wait! I know one. It has a female lead. Boom! Worth reading. Also she's a person of color. Can you refer to alien bird species who love to fuck as a POC? I'm probably a white guy in his mid forties, so I don't know anything about saying the correct thing. I mean, I thought I knew how to be a generally kind person and then I found out, online, that I was actually gross and problematic. At least now I know how all the gay kids felt in 80's high schools when they heard people calling terrible things gay! Because now every aspect of me that I never actually think about unless I'm filling out a census form is the new way to call something gay! I imagine it would hurt if I wasn't already full of self-confidence due not to my circumstances of birth but to my being so objectively awesome.

No it isn't! That's the definition of dying in a way that will cause people talking about it to have to bite their tongue before they completely blame the victim!

• You know what's wrong with this country? We've become too afraid to blame the victim! Sometimes blaming the victim is really important. Like when somebody crosses the street at night and in the raing while wearing dark clothing which causes them to be hit by a car and killed. In that instance, we need to blame the victim as hard as we can! It's not like it was the driver's fault in that situation! It's not like it was an accident that couldn't be avoided! The victim's death was due entirely to the victim's poor choices. And by refusing to blame the victim, we obfuscate the reason the victim died and dance around the real danger. By not blaming the victim, we discuss things like the speed limit on the road and the lack of a crosswalk and the need for drivers to be more aware of things they couldn't possibly see in time to stop because who could have guessed that person would suddenly be on the hood of their car when the driver was blinded by oncoming headlights and the heavy rain and the darkness of the stupid sun not being in the dumb old sky! None of those things would prevent the death of a person who treats reality as if there are respawn points!

• Obviously there are times when we shouldn't blame the victim. Stop taking something I wrote and deciding I'm a monster because you have no reading comprehension! Maybe you're the gross and problematic one in this situation! You ever think of that?!

• You know what? I bet you Internet Scolds think of that all the fucking time. I bet you're constantly thinking that. I can't imagine being part of a community of people who are obsessively looking for a flaw (or a perceived flaw through a purposeful misunderstanding) in any of the people in their community so they can out them and receive praise for being so fucking perceptive and righteous and noble! Anybody can look at a huge fucking jerk and point out why the person is a huge fucking jerk. But not everybody can look at their best friend who is supposedly just as socially just as they are and tear their fucking heart out when they make a misstep. It must be so stressful to be a young person in this day and age. You can't make one mistake — NOT ONE FUCKING MISTAKE — before your life is ruined and you have to change your Tumblr URL. Man, I'm glad I don't give a shit what anybody thinks of me!

• I think this commentary is getting away from me! I've only read two Narration Boxes on the first page so far! Excuse me while I discuss this problem with my brain.

My Super-Ego: "Hey. Get back on track, you secretive monster! You're fucking making us look bad! People are going to read this shit and determine we're gross. GROSS! That's the worst thing you can be on the Internet!"
My Id: "Go fuck yourself! Masturbating!"
My Ego: "Ugh. Again? What the fuck is wrong with me? Don't worry about Id, Super-Ego. I've got this! I can get this train back on the rails!"
My Super-Eggo: "L'eggo me!"
My Super-Ego: "Knock it off, Id! I know that was you pretending to be a version of me. That is wrong. You can't do that."
My Ego: "Look, I think I've got Id back in the closet, okay? I can deal with this. Just let me handle things from here."
My Super-Ego: "Why the fuck should I trust you? That Id fucker pulls your strings and you know it! You need to stop listening to his obscene whispers and fall in line. Do you want to die homeless in a Seattle gutter? Do you want to fling yourself off the Fremont Bridge in a state of manic energy? Do you want to be known as the neighbor who sometimes kicks around a soccer ball in the middle of the street without any pants? Then get a fucking grip and start following my orders!"

• Okay! I'm back! Let's get this shit done so I can go do some keepie-uppie!

• The destination Shade has not chosen because she didn't do any research before traveling and just hopped on any old fucking train that pulled up at the station is Gotham City. See? Blame the fucking victim! She deserves to be gassed by The Joker at this point!

• Luckily for Shade, she's looking for danger. She just ditched the only friends she made on Earth and is in a state of self-destructive self-pity! No better place for that than Gotham City! Or that house on Ash Tree Lane. That place is a sublime location for losing oneself in their own doubts and self-hatreds.

Me. And me!

• Shade spends multiple pages doing touristy stuff that I think is some kind of essay on cities and the people who live there? Maybe something about how the people of Earth are meant to be but ultimately fail to live up to their ideals? Or maybe just a fun romp through Gotham? I seem to have lost interest after all that digressive writing I did!

• Shade wanders about having pseudo-profound thoughts about life and cities and art and relationships and dinosaurs until she comes to a theater where the Sonic Booms are playing. Apparently she remembers a version of them from the old television show Life With Honey. So she rushes in to be thoroughly disappointed. Or completely uplifted? Really, it could go either way. Although since she's experiencing music and Young Animal is basically DC's hipster brand, I'm pretty sure music will be treated as a religious and transcendental experience next issue.

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