SPD: The Last Patrol

FADE IN:

INT. CONTROL ROOM.

As we open, DOGGIE KRUGER (here a cardboard box man labeled "Doggert Krugland") sits at his desk, inspecting his paper work on his SCIENCE COMPUTER. He types on the pages.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Almost done, yet never complete. We shall all rise and fall like Sirius in the moonlight.

JACK enters in casual clothing.

JACK

Kruger.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Jack...it's you. But is it really you?

JACK

No.

Jack is no longer there.

Doggert returns to his paper work.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

B-Squad was never here, their presence only a black mercy that shrouded my hopes and dreams. My love.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)

Yet you always knew it was fake.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Half hearted gnosis, wrapped in a sesame seed bun of contrariwise.

Beat.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Please stay, Kat.

A FRAMED PICTURE OF CATHERINE SUTHERLAND jumps onto the desk.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

My Kat Ranger.

PICTURE OF CATHERINE SUTHERLAND

My Ranger. Why hide in the shadows?

Doggert picks up the picture, slowly rubbing it on his face for what seems like an entire minute, but is actually three. His tears are ambiguous.

He sets the picture down just as BRIDGE enters the room, his hands covered in butter. He's terrified of himself, looking at his hands.

BRIDGE

They made me do it. They made me do it.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

What you did was your own will, Bridge.

BRIDGE

...no...no...

Bridge sits on his knees.

BRIDGE

No.

PICTURE OF CATHERINE SUTHERLAND

His suffering is his only pleasure.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Let him breathe.

Doggert grabs Bridge, pulling him up.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Bridge.

BRIDGE

...Kruger?

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Let it be.

Bridge convulses, stepping over to the desk and picking up Catherine. He breaks the glass from the frame and starts to cry, cutting his face. He bleeds butter.

BRIDGE

I can see so much. I can see...

He turns and, in his point of view, Doggert's box is now a plastic container labeled "Kraglor Dogman." Inside is nothing.

BRIDGE

I see you, Kruger. I see your soul.

Bridge stumbles off.

BRIDGE

But see nothing all the same.

Doggert approaches a mirror, seeing his tupperware self.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

NOOOO!

He breaks the mirror and clumsily falls over.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Who are weeeee?

INT. MESS HALL.

SYD and Z are eating nothing at all despite the movement of utensils and mouths. SKY, wearing a blue shirt, is sitting next to Jack.

SKY

Make me me.

Sky rips off Jack's red shirt, causing Jack to disappear in a faint scream.

Bridge stumbles in, looking at Sky.

Z

I will be big.

SYD

Myspace.com.

Bridge tackles Sky onto the table and the two wrestle. Z and Syd do not acknowledge their existence.

Bridge slams Sky's head onto the table and Sky is unconscious, bleeding butter out of the back of his head. As Bridge consumes his body, which is suddenly made entirely of toast, Death Cab for Cutie's "The Sound of Settling" plays for the duration of the consumption.

Bridge stands, observing his two female co-officers.

SYD

Do you think you can keep going?

Z

Pleasure is the dark crescendo of nihilism.

Bridge stumbles zombie-like out of the room, holding Jack's red shirt.

INT. HALLWAY.

Bridge falls.

INT. CONTROL ROOM.

Doggert Krugland lays on the ground amongst broken glass for four minutes.

INT. HALLWAY.

Jack, now a ghost, attempts to steal Bridge's new red shirt. Bridge turns and kicks Jack in the testicles, which do not exist because he is a ghost.

JACK

WHAT IS A MAN?

Jack falls over, but makes no sound.

JACK

Why is a man?

Jack cries.

INT. CONTROL ROOM.

Doggert Krugland walks slowly toward the door. He knocks his head against the wall, having missed the door.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Why.

INT. HALLWAY.

Krugland walks and sees the weeping Jack ghost.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

You were my finest creation. And now here, on our last patrol, you fail me.

JACK

Forgive me, Kruger.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

I can't forgive you, because you're dead.

For a brief moment, Jack is ADOLF HITLER.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

As we were.

He starts walking.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

As we are.

INT. MESS HALL.

Doggert looks at Z and Syd.

Z

My life must have meaning.

SYD

Tumblr.

A STILL FRAME OF DOGGERT AND KATBERT MAYONAIX, LABELED.

KATBERT MAYONAIX

Do you believe in eternity?

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

I believe we must last forever.

KATBERT MAYONAIX

But do we?

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Yes.

INT. MESS HALL.

Doggert murders Z and Syd.

INT. CONTROL ROOM.

Bridge is sitting at the control panel wearing a Doggert Krugland head. He is typing science.

BRIDGE

More.

Krugland walks into the room.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Stop, Bridge, before you compartmentalize the ouroboros.

BRIDGE

It's morphin' time. Butter blaster turbo power.

Bridge stands up, wearing a red, blue, and green shirt. He touches his Doggert face.

BRIDGE

SPD Emergency.

Bridge shudders as he stands.

BRIDGE

SPD...Red...Blue...Green...

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

Bridge. No.

BRIDGE

Shadow...Omega...Nova...

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

You cannot contain them all.

BRIDGE

Deka...Gold...

Bridge collapses in a heap of dead colors. Seven seconds of "Glycerine" by Bush play.

Doggert sits on the ground.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

I have not mastered the dekas. I have mastered nothing. I have nothing.

He touches Bridge's dead body.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

I don't deserve any of you. I don't deserve love.

He turns and walks again, opening up a kitchen cabinet that is in the room. He pulls out a box of Lucky Charms cereal.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

WHY DID YOU LIVE FOR ME?

He angrily tears the box open, pouring the multi-colored cereal all over the floor. Screaming.

He trips all over the cereal, dropping the now empty box. He cries.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

ISINIAAAAA!

He crawls across the cereal, grabbing chunks of it and looking at them.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

I SEE YOUUUU.

He throws the cereal, crushing some under his hand. He finally makes it to the cereal box, staring it in the eyes.

DOGGERT KRUGLAND

WHY DID YOU COME BACK FOR ME?

He screams and, over the course of four minutes, slowly tears the box apart.

He weeps and we fade out.

END?

Determinist Destiny and Reincarnation in My Little Pony

Alright, let's get one thing straight here so we can get the juvenile jokes out of the way. I fucking love My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. There, I said it. I love it's characters, I love it's tone, I love it's style, I love it's music, and I love Fluttershy. Seriously, if anyone here doesn't love Fluttershy, I think you're guilty of some sort of war-crime.

If your eyes didn't begin to water it's because you sold all your tears to Satan!

But beyond all that I love the unique mythology of the world! There's magic, and talking dogs, and tribbles parasprites, and an inescapable fate tied to your very soul. Ok, so the last one may be a little bit more scary, scarier even than you would at first believe of a show that features a main character named Pinkie Pie. You may cry bollocks to us (afraid of using real swear words, less you make Fluttershy disappointed in your language), but the truth, as always on Eclectic Haberdashary, is inescapable.

Anyway, in this world each pony has a destiny budding within them in the form of a Cutey Mark (don't give me that look, you knew what you were in for the moment you read the title), a simple design that correlates to the destined talent of a given pony. For example, Rainbow Dash has a cloud with a lightning bolt coming out of it because she manages the weather and likes to be stylish about it. There are a number of complications that arise from this however. First, while the marks certainly have a destiny to them, one must discover their cutey mark for themselves. This point itself raises our first question: Does the mark make the pony, or does the pony make the mark? I mean, if you discover something you love to do, does your Cutey Mark appear and reflect that thing you love, or does destiny wait until something else is in store for you? Are there ponies who take up middle management careers to feed their illegitimate children and descend into alcoholism without ever gaining a Cutey Mark? Or would their mark be something like a bottle of Wild Irish Rose typing up a tax return?

Behold the kiss of despair 

The show itself deals with many of these issues, but in ways that are honestly quite frightening. In one episode, a young filly named Applebloom, upset that she has yet to receive a Cutey Mark of her own, drinks a magic potion that makes many different kinds of Cutey Marks appear on her body. As each mark appears, she becomes masterfully proficient in the skill associated with that mark. One minute she's an expert hulla-hoop artist, the next, she's taming lions. But the marks start to take over, as she is compelled by supernatural forces to meet the whims of these horse-tattoos. She can't stop speaking french, or sweeping chimneys, spinning plates, or other such things you imagine in a horrible Disney Movie about Europe. 

So what does this mean about Cutey Marks? Do they impose some powerful will upon the pony to fulfil their duty, like some malicious horse parasite? Does any pony have any control over their cutey marks? Has this urge to fulfil the destiny of these tattoos become entangled with the inner urges of a pony with their true destiny to the point where thier own desires and the desires of the mark are no longer separate?  

This all comes to a head in the final episode of the third season, where the plot concerns the five ponies, Fluttershy, Rarity, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie all having switched Cutey Marks. Rarity is now in control of the weather, Rainbow Dash is taking care of animals, Fluttershy is now hosting parties, etc. Each of them has lost the memory of their previous destiny while they fail spectacularly in their new roles. And yet, while none of them like their new destinies and they all realize that they are failing at what they have been guided to do, they feel absolutely stuck in these rolls. Pinkie Pie falls into depression and Fluttershy nearly leaves town! But they're still all the same ponies with all the same skills and attitudes, the only thing that changed was the destiny provided by the mark.

So that means that in this universe, there exists an external force that ties itself to the souls of ponies and guides them towards some sort of goal in the name of destiny. Can Free Will exist in a universe like this? Where the biggest part of your life is tied to forces beyond our understanding? Where your goals and ideals can be cut and pasted from different ponies through magic? Jesus, this sounds like the nightmare of Immanuel Kant. Who'd have thought that a cartoon about singing cartoon horses could be so dark?

Aside from John de Lancie of course. 

Something Something Titanic

It's time to piss 50% of the world off: I don't like Titanic. And now I wait as every female reader on this site (all 3 of them!) just screamed at the monitor and threw their computer across the room in a haze of Leonardo DiCaprio obsessed love. Now that it's become a sausage fest, I'll scare away the guys (all 4 of them!) by saying that the reason I don't like Titanic is because it's melodramatically overwrought with misogynistic patriarchy that demands the repression of the female.

Pictured: The readers of this blog

Now whoever is still here might be thinking about how the movie is actually about female liberation, as it showcases the escape of Rose from her societal chains through finding love in Jack Dawson, also known as the wet dream of the '90s. And it's true that the movie begins very much in a pre-feminist manner, with Rose making a joke about ship size and overcompensation, but that line of thought quickly...sinks. 

Oh God...I can't believe I actually made that joke.

Give me a minute to drink away the pain...

And we're back! Man those 7 consecutive shots of Smirnoff really take the edge off!So yeah, feminism and shit. Rose is an independent woman, or as independent as she can be, right up until her attempt at suicide, which she fails at because Jack comes for her and the chauvinism begins. Rose becomes wholly dependent on Jack. This girl that told off a table full of rich snobs now can't do a single thing without running it past Jack. Girl could've used some booze if you ask me, which I'm assuming you are. A nice drink to calm down the whole situation.

Like this, but 15 more

U know who else needed sum alcohol?? I thinked that if the capitan had some then he wouldn't have been such a bitch. "HOODOHOO I HAVE A BEARD AND THAT'S A FUCKNIG ICEBERG!" Big fucking deal man. I dealt with an iceburg last night namedd YOUR MOTHER! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! And I mean realy couldn't Rose have jsut  fucking moved over on the door thing cause i spent like a solid 5 minutes staring at her in the naked scene and she wasnn't that fat. I mean itd be cool if she lose pounds, but not thaaaaaaaaaaat many. 17 punds maxinum. I mean I'd do her but i wouldnt telegram her in the morning if you knw what I mean ;)

just 1 or two more real quik

what if the whole fuking movie is just like a metpahor for some shit or something lik its about fucking politics or somehting leik the whole thing is about ho Reagan destroyed th cuntry haha cuntry. that;s it!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the movie is all abut Reagan being the devil & ruining evrything.

Rose is Reagan an d like kils Jack befcasue she canp='t fucjing movei ovear on tha doior and the shuip is america and the iceburg is teh economie an d jack is ameirca.

rose Killed ameirca 

ImmaDeker's Rejected Movie Pitch

I wrote a movie pitch! Amazon Studios said no!

It seems very Eclectic Haberdashery-y to me, so here: my take on the Christmas movie. It's to Christmas movies what Anne Frank is to anal sex!

NO L

The core of Christmas as a concept is one of good will toward your fellow man and peace on Earth. The traditional Christmas narrative, however, tends to specify and heighten the magic of the day. These supposed universal truths seem to only converge during Christmas, and people only seem to make a special case for them during the Christmas season. In the grand tradition of cynicism, our Christmas story will ultimately be about how Christmas is just a boring, ordinary day. But in the grand tradition of humanity, that only means every single day is the chance to reach out and improve the life of your fellow man. The young cynic’s rejection of nihilism.

Sam Wilson is 22 and doing a whole bunch of nothing with his life, besides pranking and flaunting a vague sense of pretentiousness. It’s Christmas Eve, and the last thing he wants is to be around and take the festivities that are making everyone a nervous wreck seriously. To him, Christmas just seems like an excuse to become fussy and naggy the day right after Thanksgiving. Being the unemployed slacker he is, it also feels like the time he becomes the most insignificant to those around him: he has no gifts to give.

Noel is the angel of Christmas, and is the most insignificant angel in Heaven. As a man-made festival, Noel has no real true and honest dominion over the Earth other than what he sees as a detriment. It is his niche that has compromised morality for morality’s sake. Cynical enough to feel like there’s a snowball’s chance in Hell of any improvement; Noel has made the decision to high-tail it out of the reach of the higher powers and live out his eternity in near-solitude.

Near, of course, because he needs at least some sense of validation that he’s not crazy. Seeing that Sam Wilson feels exactly like he does and is about as significant as he is, Noel secretly cloaks Sam in an illusion where he lives in a world where he was never born. Once he validates Sam’s beliefs, he hopes to travel with his new companion to the far reaches of existence to escape the inherent hypocrisy of the universe. Sam, meanwhile, gradually realizes the blank slate he’s been given and decides to milk it for all it’s worth…at first.

Concerning tone, I feel like it’s important to play things as genuinely as possible. The plot is still, to some extent, a riff and extrapolation on and of the premise of IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE. We don’t need to wink at this, however. The audience is intelligent enough to notice without us spelling it out to them. I also feel that being that self-referential ultimately damages the integrity of the story we’re telling. Sam and Noel will be too concerned with their own agendas to worry about any similarities to popular culture. 

“No L” is a heartwarmingly cynical, character based comedy in the vein of Kevin Smith’s DOGMA and Drew Goddard’s CABIN IN THE WOODS, with a dash of BILL AND TED’S BOGUS JOURNEY in act three. We feature a protagonist who wafts in aimlessness and seek to create pathos and understanding within his apathy. Sam’s journey, however, will enlighten him about how much he impacts the people he loves and how celebrating his fellow man can’t reasonably be restricted to a single day.

OUTLINE

We open on a suburban town that fully embodies the Christmas spirit. Decorations, lights, joy. We focus on a single house, just as decorated as the others. A voiceover from a distraught woman sets our scene, as she frets about doing what for who and who else. She needs to integrate herself into the town’s social caste. Inside the house’s basement is SAM, sitting on a couch and poking away at his laptop in a daze. His mother comes down and gives him some of his daily firm, but exhaustedly encouraging, reminder to go and do something. It’s a new town and a new life, after all, and he’s been here a full month. He rolls his eyes, but goes about his way and decides to visit his new sort-of-girlfriend, RACHEL.

Once there, the two make small talk until Sam notices a gift from what may not be a hopeless suitor. This escalates into an argument, with Sam arguing less from jealousy and more from the fact he couldn’t actually get her anything. It doesn’t help when Rachel mentions attending a Christmas party where the suitor will be, though “It’s not like I’m even gonna go.” This pokes holes in quite a few places, and thus the argument ends with him leaving the apartment in a huff.

While walking through town, he catches his only, recent friend VICTOR walking down the street and catches up to him. Some friendly arm punchin’ and banter later, Victor reveals he can’t stick around because of gift purchasing errands. An already frustrated Sam decides to blow his friend off and retreat back to his basement. He watches some niche mid-90’s sci fi or another as his malaise and uselessness slowly creeps upon him, and the notion of disappearing puts him in a mixed placed. It’s neither appealing nor upsetting, and that’s probably the worst thing of all.

Meanwhile, on a completely different plane of reality, the angel known as Noel is forlorn. It is the only season that he, the angel of Christmas, is useful. But time and time again, his only season of relevancy just shows how little he affects the cosmos at large. He argues with higher beings and it never makes a single dent. He has had it with the universe and questions if anyone feels the same way he does. Noticing Sam, Noel decides to break some choice rules and make himself manifest in Sam’s basement.

Sam’s first response, of course, is to pick up the nearest object and smack Noel with it. The two have a round of slapstick shenanigans before Noel displays his full glory. After more banter, Noel promises Sam the truth of the universe.  Though skeptical, Sam agrees to see what Noel promises and the two disappear in a massive flash.

“Make a noise and your organs will implode,” says Noel as Sam witnesses the movers and shakers of the universe going about their business in incomprehensible, esoteric geometry. Sam’s complete insignificance cements. Noel, as per a scheme to justify himself, makes Sam an offer. “I’ll make it so that you were never born. For once, your life can be yours.” Sam shakes on it, and accepts. Noel sends him back to Earth, now having never been there. “Merry Christmas.” When Sam leaves, Noel ponders a minute and suddenly widens his eyes.

Sam lands back in what used to be his basement, but of course none of his possessions remain. The fuss called by the landing brings down the home’s new owner, whose intimidation goes perfectly with the decorations of his military achievement displaying on the wall. Any attempted smooth talking fails and Sam gets thrown out face first onto the streets. Sam gets up and discovers that…nothing is all that different. At all. He even sees Victor again, for the first time, in the exact same spot he saw him last. He tries to assert his familiarity but fails, opting instead to try introducing himself. “I live…” He points over to his home, but Victor is confused. 

“That’s not your house,” Victor protests, “That’s…”

As if on cue, a fancy car bellows “THE HOME OF THE HOTTEST PARTY THIS HOLIDAY SEASON!” Pulling up is the most incomprehensibly cool guy on the planet, TIBERIUS AGAMEMNON, with a less enthusiastic Rachel in his passenger seat. With “mama and papa bear” intending to be out for the night, Tiberius eagerly declares, “Feel free to come, Victor and clearly homeless man.” Hugging his clearly troubled girlfriend, he drives on to pull in at the home of his parents.

Victor looks at Sam, who is upset. “She’d never go for a douchebag like that guy,” he says as Victor asks if he knows Rachel. “Not important. To the Batcave.” He follows Victor on his shopping errand and uses a combination of his and Victor’s money to trick himself out during a SHOPPING MONTAGE. At the end, he looks super fly and is ready for a night of showing what he’s worth.

At the party, Sam makes a big elaborate entrance that overshadows the previous king Tiberius. The tone of the party changes as he enters, and everyone wants a piece of the new guy. Sam even briefly sees MATILDA, a nervous, mousey young woman whose planned party was overshadowed by Tiberius’s. Everything from extravagant lies to weird stunts fill Sam’s schedule. Meanwhile, as Tiberius is soundly defeated, he comes into contact with his lady Rachel. He asks her what’s been bothering her and she, filled with genuine love for him, says she needs to tell him something important. If only she was able to get it out before the house caught on fire.

As the fire decimates the house, we’re treated to a story relayed via flashback that shows Sam ill-fated attempt to show people his supposed superb fire juggling skills. Tiberius calls for Sam’s head, and Sam runs from the angry mob through the snow. Matilda gives him a hiding place as a thank you for being the only person who paid attention to her. In desperation, Sam uses this time to call for Noel. Noel appears, but is very confused. “How do you know who I am, human?”

Sam is astounded.  His eyes widen and he realizes: he was never born, so he never existed to make the wish. As Noel begins to understand this logic, Tiberius, Rachel, and Victor find them. Before they can say anything, Noel erases everyone present from ever being born and then he suddenly doesn’t recognize them. Still recognizing the strange boy who claimed to erase him, he realized it worked. He glows and starts disappearing, preparing to ascend back to heaven. But Sam grabs onto him, and the rest of the people grab onto Sam.

In the afterlife, the college agers are dropped onto the gates of Hell. They are greeted by the poet VIRGIL, who is prepared to guide them through their journey until Sam pushes him out of the way into a pit of fire and charges the gates himself. After some chthonic spelunking, the group stops Sam and he, under coercion, explains everything. If they don’t stop whatever Noel’s trying to do, this could be the end. Unfortunately, they reach the end of Hell and see the Cerberus which may just be THEIR end.

“Since this might be it…” Rachel begins, holding Tiberius’s hand, “You are…were, going to be a dad.” Tiberius’s eyes widen and he steals a sword from a passing demon. He enters battle with the Cerberus, using the sword to pull the struggle in his favor and jab the beast in the heart. As the monster stumbles, Tiberius gives everyone a thumbs up just before he’s engulfed in one of the mouths as the Cerberus’s body falls into a firepit. This, however, opens the path to Heaven and the grievers must move on.

They open to see a very different Heaven: a strange fusion of the archetypal NORTH POLE and the standard vision of Heaven. Noel sits on his throne as the now meaningless angels work around him as elves. The four can’t believe what they’re seeing, and steal toys to arm themselves to battle against the angel of Christmas.

The battle is absurd, but eventually boils down to Sam and Noel swordfighting with toy LAWYER FRIENDLY LIGHTSABERS. The other three clutch their particular toys, with Matilda trying to get a good aim with her NERF GUN. Noel has Sam cornered and raises his hand. “If I erase you again, it’ll be like you were never here!” Before he can finish the spell, however, Matilda fires a shot that smacks Noel’s crotch. He instinctively covers the area, realizing a bit too late that a mythic being like him has nothing there worth protecting. His powers activate, and everything reverts to Noel never being born.

Sam is sitting in his basement the exact moment Noel first made contact with Sam, but he never comes. Sam celebrates by taking a big, long nap. Days later, he shows up at his not-quite-girlfriend’s house again. This time, bringing gifts and apologies-after Chrismas. Sam has learned a valuable lesson: he is significant; all he has to do is give himself to the world. He smiles and takes Rachel’s hand, saying there’s a party they should get to as he texts Victor.

We see Matilda, technically for the first time, cleaning up a load of decorations and party favors that were never used. She sighs, taking things down before answering a knock on the door: It’s Sam, Rachel, and Victor, all bearing gifts and food. Matilda smiles; someone actually came to her party! As the four enjoy themselves, Sam mentions wanting to try finding an old friend of his on Facebook name Tiberius. In Heaven, Noel grumbles. As nobody recognizes him, he’s been reduced to becoming the janitor of an endless, complex geometrical construct that makes up several layers of Heaven. He plops down his mop. Merry frikkin’ Christmas. 

Juzo

It was a most wretched metamorphosis, a change so large. An upheaval of identity that changed nothing at all was perhaps the most deathly of all. I had spent an eternity by that name and with absolutely nothing to show for it. That's how things are, I guess. Rigid. Status quo. Perhaps Mike Judge was on to something. The more things change, the more they are likely to stay exactly the same. Just because my name is Juzo doesn't mean that's who I want to be, but the more I thought about it the less likely it seemed that a change of name would mean much anything at all. Or mean much of anything. At all.

"Deker."

I lifted my head from the pillow and l looked at him.

"Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

I was used to this sort of thing being code. Words are deceptive. Volatile semantics and double meanings that all cling to the same strategy. I want to know about you, but you shall not approach me. Most are bogged down with the clear, tangible notion that they are damaged irreversibly, and damn anyone besides Hubbard who intends to liberate them from their gravity-weighted thetans. Even I am guilty of this, and I think it may be slightly prejudiced to assume it is because of my cursed Nighlok half.

But he was never like that. It was never code.

"I'm fine. Why?"

"You don't seem like it," Enkidu said. "You don't talk much, anymore."

Not that we ever had to. Usually.

"I'm just thinking, that's all. You have nothing to worry about, alright?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

I've never been adequate at slumber. I'm not sure if it's because of the Nighlok in me consistently trying to philosophize the nature of existence in its constant attempt to adapt the Art of War for preschoolers, or if it's simply because sleep and I don't get along. But it's hard for me to sleep. I've always tried different things to little effect, and most recently I've forced various schedules upon myself as an attempt to beat sleep into submission. But it's been quite the worthy opponent. Were Enkidu still here, it might bother him. Barely.

"And you, Deker? Do you bore of evil?" Asked Serrator.

"When it suits me," replied the slow firebird.

I didn't understand the point of most of our conversations. The next question would be:

"And how goes the pursuit of purity?"

And I could only say:

"Goes."

He wanted something, though Ishinomori knows what THAT was. I was just unsure of what that was. My importance to the greater cosmos was fairly debatable, though if you were pro against con you tended to be on the losing side. Words bother me. Infinite in their repertoire and specific in their intent, but always malleable and subject to the exact context of the predicament. It's what bothers me about Serrator. Speaking in infinite, unlockable eternity codes that eschew the Konami patent in favor of completely indecipherable mooger Esperanto (a phrasing that would put me in hot water, but Dayu knew better than anyone that I was open to running game on a mooger girl. Even if, despite my heart being in the right place, making it to the goal was beyond my comfort zone). It's a cultural thing. Just because Nighlok runs through me doesn't mean that's what I am. I don't understand the culture, nor have I understood my place in it or the expectations therein. I knew the hatred for it, and I rather coldly deduced the logic that came with hating a dirty, filthy mooger like I was.

"My grand schemes must be put on hold, Deker."

No surprise there.

"But don't let that discourage you. I don't expect the tides to turn just yet, and I don't think you're in the proper position to eliminate the Red Ranger. But it will come in time. Enjoy yourself now. Read a good book. Perhaps indulge some exotic cuisine? You look a little skinny."

Oh fuck off.

"But I'll worry about that later, as I know you have bigger, better things on your mind."

They've yet to leave.

Sharpening Uramasa was often a solitary endeavor. Sometimes indulged with like minded warriors, but more often than not it never felt properly unless I was honing the blade and my aptitude with such on my own. I liked it, though. A sharper edge was always beyond my reach, but then again if it were easy to obtain there'd be little point in doing it. And it didn't need to be perfect. Just enough.

I drew the blade from the stone one last time and gave a slash to extinguish the camp fire.

In my solitude I often thought about technique. I had few mentors in the art, relying only on morsels of wisdom I had scavenged in the night like a hungry Org. The Wise Man once said that precision often only came with humility. Respecting what had come before, and fighting with it with your own hand. To take on the tradition of your elders and guide it safely to the next generation. A seemingly impersonal way to battle, a way to let history command you. But many of the most formidable warriors and worthiest opponents made it their philosophy. Perhaps it was wise to take the Wise Man for his word.

"Juzo."

I turned and gazed upon the worthiest opponent I could ask for.

"Red Ranger."

Uramasa hungered, and I wasn't one to deny.

I dropped my trusty sword and fell to my knees. The Red Ranger looked at me, as if inspecting me. As brutalized as my Nighlok shell was, it was a sculpture compared to the pathetic looking human form that came to being in a baptism of purple flame. I felt the back end of a Spin Sword lift my head by the chin, the Red Ranger looking at me through his peculiar kanji visor.

"This is worthy for you, Juzo?"

I winced.

"You demanded an opponent worthy enough for your skills." The Red Ranger devolved as I did, to the lean Takeru. "Yet you could not stand before me. You are not worthy."

The sword disappeared and, without support, I fell onto my face. Footsteps crushed and parted blades of grass with a complete apathy toward my state of being. I coughed and stayed where I was. Little point in moving, at least for now. There was nothing that would have deemed me worth approaching. I was as good as dead, or perhaps a little worse than it.

I felt a sharp of bone flick my cheek and I turned my head, witnessing Uramasa after a silent disintegration that left its pieces scattered along the forest floor. I waited a fortnight before letting myself stand, starving. Before tending to my hunger, I did the most appropriate thing and picked Uramasa up piece by piece.

Gary Oak: Batman of Kanto. Part 2 of the Pokemon double Feature

BAM! 2 Pokemon articles in a day. Of course, that's because my computer derped out on me last friday and I procrastinated throughout the week, but it means you, dear readers, get a double dosing of Haberdashian Pokemon! Earlier today we examined the deconstruction and reconstruction of the Black and White duo, but now we're going to focus our gaze on the unsung hero of Kanto, the region where it all began, this guy:

Pictured: The condescending scorn of heroism

Now, it may be a little difficult to back up the claim that a boy regularly called such colourful names as Urethra by an entire country is a hero, but that's because we've only played through the games from the course of Red. What if Gary were the silent protagonist and we watched the game through his journey, well let's find out, through the Gary Oak Journal

Journal Entry Day 1

'Sup faggot! You keeping a diary now? Laaaame. Well, whatever, gramps wants me to keep a record of my journey so I may as well do something while I travel. Besides, it's best that I keep notes so I can explain things simply too him. His Alzheimers isn't serious yet, but just this morning he forgot my name! The dick next door, Red, told Grandpa my name was Sperm Nugget! WTF? That kid can be a real ass sometimes. Aw well, I joke's on him cause even though he got the first pick (which Grandpa said i could totally have!) I still got the pokemon I wanted, AND it's got the advantage over him! Bonus! I lost, but that's because this stinking Squirtle doesn't know anything except for Tackle and Growl. Lame. But, it's just the start of the adventure, and with Squirtle, I forsee a great adventure ahead of us!

Journal Entry Day 2

Alright, journal time. Just about to challenge the first gym after going through the Veridian Forrest. Ended up catching a few awesome pokemon off on route 1. My first catch was my Rattata. I love the little guy, so playful and quick. I hear that Red caught a mouse pokemon too, but I bet he's nothing compared to my Rattata. I also caught a Pidgey, but I've put off training him until after the rock gym. I love the little guy, but he'll be knocked down in one blow here, and I can train him up on the way to Cerulean. Anyway, stoked to challenge Brock, I'll phone Gramps when I win!

Journal Entry Day 3

Ugh, stupid Red. Day starts off great, 2 gym badges under my belt, I beat some Team Rocket Dweebs, caught a rare pokemon, and Pidgey evolved into Pidgeotto earlier than expected! Would have been a great day if that brat hadn't shown up and swpet my team with that one Pikachu of his. Seriously, thundershock after thundershock, I was powerless! But, looking on the bright side, it looks like Rattata and Squirtle are about to evolve. And I got a ticket to the S.S. Anne. Tomorrow is sure to look up!

Journal Entry Day 4

... I don't want to write about it.

Journal Entry Day 5

I mean, seriously, why wasn't there a Pokemon Centre on that damn boat?!?! Ratticate...

Journal Entry Day 6

Well, there's no use denying it anymore. Guess all there is left to do is make sure he gets a propper send off. Grandpa gave me the number of a guy named Mister Fugi in Lavender Town who runs a funeral service. He also transferred over a pair of rare pokemon for me, a Growlith and an Eggsecute. I appreciate them, and I'll put them on the team, but I need to organize things with Mister Fugi before I get my passion for battling back. We should have a service tomorrow.

Journal Entry Day 7

SERIOUSLY?!?! Goddamn that Red! He didn't even have a Pokemon to say goodbye to, he just came here to train against mourning trainers! What a dick! And while that bag of snot was tying me up in a battle, those Team Rocket Goons kidnapped Mister Fuji! I won't let either of them get away with this!

Journal Entry Day 8

I have to train. I have to become the strongest trainer that ever was. If I aim to protect my pokemon and to stop Team Rocket, I need to become much stronger. I'll rescue Mister Fuji, I'll avenge Ratticate, and I'll protect my pokemon while doing so. Today, the Gary Oak of old dies.

Journal Entry Day 9

Damn, when I said "The Gary Oak of old dies" I didn't want everyone to start calling me Sperm Nugget. Seriously Red? You have nothing better to do while an evil criminal empire runs about? Ugh, looks like I have an uphill battle ahead of me. In any case, the training is going great! My pokemon have all evolved to their final stage, and I've taken up some training at the dojo. Tomorrow We're going to defeat Team Rocket and rescue Mister Fuji.

Journal Entry Day 10

I seriously think Red may be a part of Team Rocket. The kid battles me when I'm trying to stop the Rockets, even though we should have the same goal here, and then he steals some poor guy's Lapras! he'll probably never even use the thing! Ugh, and then I hear a call from Fuji that red rescues him, but not before tormenting the spirit of a dead pokemon and extorting him for the Poke-Flute! If you need to wake up a pokemon that bad, just buy some Awakenings bro! Getting sick of this kid, decided to blow off steam by defeating some gym leaders, piece of cake. Still though, I wonder about that Red...

Journal Entry Day 11

Today was pretty good, which was a nice change of pace. Welcomed a new teammate aboard and defeated a new set of Gym leaders. Just the last guy left in Veridian, just north of where it all started... I caught my Rattata just outside of Veridian City. Feels wrong not to have him with me. But that's why we started all this, isn't it? And again, back on the positives, I can go see gramps again!

Journal Entry Day 12

OK, seriously think red is a member of Team Rocket right now. I just saw him walk out of the gym twirling a team Rocket cap while looking at his new badge. Fucker probably used some stolen pokemon to do the job. I challenged him to a battle and of course I lost. I was pretty beat up, but then I went into the Veridian gym (after healing of course) and found a badge just lying there on the ground! Score! Anyway, forget about Red, all I have to do is worry about the Elite Four

Journal Entry Day 13

Holy Cow, this has been the greatest day ever! First thing in the morning, i turn on the radio and hear that Team Rocket has disbanded! Awesome! Those guys won't steal from anyone any longer! Then I go through Victory Road and defeat absolutely everyone! My team must have power-leveled through that road. And it would be impossible to talk about this day without mentioning that I became champion! Haha! I am the Pokemon Champion! yep, squashed the Elite Four, entered the Hall of Fame, and I just Called Gramps so that he can come to the Award Ceremony tomorrow! He was so proud, even if I had to lead him along through the conversation. He still has some trouble remembering people, but I'm sure he'll still be proud of me tomorrow. Today is awesome!

Journal Entry Day 14

Fuck Red.

Pokemon Teaches You That Your Childhood Is Wrong! Part 1 of the Pokemon Double Feature

Leading off of my Transformers article from last week, I have to ask you all this first: Have you ever seen the death of Optimus Prime in the 1986 movie? It was an out of nowhere turn to a show that liked to play things safe. Many children were devastated that their hero, (despite being a murderous hypocrite fighting against the good of the universe) had died right in front of them. It signalled a new step for the franchise, and in the years to come this sacrifice would become a core part of all incarnations of Optimus. Just a few years ago we witnessed the latest "Death of Optimus" in the form of the Pokemon franchise, with their Black and White games.

The Pokemon franchise is notable for it's story of animal abuse, the enlisting of children and animals into warfare, and the abuse of God-like power for the pettiest of desires. It also had a kick ass opening theme that to this day resides in the hearts of anyone who has heard it. Black and white decided to take each and every one of these elements and deconstruct the fuck out of them. Of course, being a Pokemon game it had about all the subtlety in this of a man who wants to blow up the universe (seriously Cyrus? How did you lead so many people into your plot to pull suicide bomb a universe?) but we here at Haberdashery are not known for side-stepping the most vital of cultural truths!

Pictured: The most vital of cultural truths

The theme song itself is even deconstructed in the character of Cheren, a boy so determined to be the very best, like no one ever was, that he has no other ambition within him towards anything else. The Champion himself chastises Cheren for being an aimless kid who think he's SO much smarter than everyone. I think this kid keeps a video-log of hot-dog eating contests in his pokedex just so that he doesn't starve.

Not that he's the only rival with both serious emotional problems and a hammer squared at the shit we've just accepted for a decade and a half. Bianca works 2 fold both for showing us A) How someone who followed the whole "A Trainer's job is to love their pokemon" schpiel would actually fall into this universe, and B) What it's like when your only parent isn't a fucking drone.

Bianca's arc through the story is about becoming more self confident in herself and all her strengths. She's been held back by her father for most of her life and the game strongly implies that the reason the three friends start their journey at their later age is because the player and Cheren wanted to wait until Bianca was brave enough to step away from her father. Professor Juniper, who later becomes a mentor to the girl, helps Bianca register her Trainer card and leave town without her father knowing. As the game continues, Bianca starts to believe that leaving town was a mistake and that she's not a good trainer. It just goes further from there because within the first few cities she has her pokemon stolen away and her father shows up to drag her all the way back to Twinleaf Town. That would be a rough day for anyone, not to mention someone with serious confidence issues.

Being the subject of creepy fan art did little to curb these issues

For once in the game we're seeing how an actual criminal organization would affect someone, and how an adult may react when told that their daughter had just been ambushed by a bunch of thieving knights running around with hamsters that can erupt volcanoes. Sure, the guy's a controlling dick, but at least he has an opinion beyond "Oh, that's nice dear."

But standing up to her father is not the end of Bianca's journey, no sir. It's through her strength and kindness that she is able to mobilize the gym leaders for the fight against Team Plasma. Yes, in the final confrontation, Bianca discovers the strength of kindness and trust while Cheren discovers that being the best at something doesn't matter if you aren't doing anything with that skill.

So you see, Pokemon Black and White take us through an emotional journey where we are first eager to explore, but are struck down like a nail as we see that not everyone can explore, and some people just can't handle the world they see when they look outside. But the duo also reconstructs the pokemon experience for us! After seeing a criminal empire more akin to eco-terrorist group change the world around us and hurt characters that we care about, we rediscover the thrill of pokemon as we assemble a team from all across Unova, take the fruits of our labours and defeat Ghetsis in the last stand for the pokemon world! The series is well constructed in the way that we can go into the elite four losing ourself in the scope of everything around us, being truly hopeless of our impact in the pokemon world. But then, when the final battle comes, I for one was in true belief that that I could single-handedly stop Ghetsis from taking over the world, even after I had seen his influence throughout Unova. And when i defeated him, I felt like a super-hero!

Specifically this one

So yeah, Black and White teach you that your childhood was wrong. Being the very best like no-one ever was is a foolish goal, not all parents are mindless drones, sometimes everything can look hopeless, sometimes you'll fail and it'll seem as if you don't belong. You'll go through life constently second-guessing yourself as you get more introspective. But you know what? Life is an adventure, and that's what makes everything else so awesome!

So yeah, a surprisingly introspective tale of adolescent growth and childhood wonder from Pokemon. Stay tuned for the second part of our double feature, where we step back in time and tell you that your childhood was even more wrong.