Good Vibe-rations

We live in a world consumed by evils. Murder, assault, and Nickelback fans surround us and constantly endanger our livelihood and safety. How can we survive in a world that so deftly conspires against our success? Short answer: we can't. We're positively screwed and there is no internalized power to save us. However, there is one hope. A shimmering gleam that shines through the darkest of times. A light that has an ascot that is objectively better than anything you've done your entire life. A light named...Vibe.

Not only did those dance moves just cure my cancer, but they hold a deeper message about a different world, as I'm sure you're aware we'll examine because that's what this internet destination is all about. So the video opens and the thought is that it will be a normal day in Motor City, which apparently consists of break dancing competitions because Motor City is stuck in 1983 and the mayor is Grandmaster Flash, who was probably elected on a platform of keeping it freakity fresh, yo. However, just when you think Vibe is going to absolutely steal the show and walk away with the 1st place clock necklace he was promised...shit goes down!

Are you in suspense or turned on?
(Does it matter?)

Just as Vibe thinks he's won, a new challenger appears, and this android guy has collars higher than a 1950s Cadillac, so you know he's evil. Like, just so evil. Evil enough to take that note your mom left you in your lunchbox for himself and never even tell you that your mom packed an extra serving of love for you. Can you say "douchebag"? Did you just say it? I don't know if you did considering you're on the other side of the internet, but I hope you did anyway.

The appearance of Dr. Ivo and his android dickhead Extreme-O just kill the (will he say it? Yes he will) VIBE of the whole event. But just think about the general feeling of the event that we've been shown. The city is idealistically pastel colored. Break dancing competitions are still a possiblility. Boomboxes are the main method of music transmittance. It's a living, breathing Hellscape.

Essentially, the world has been visibly stuck in some alternate timeline. What spurred this change? Well if I had to guess, I'd venture and say it was Obama's fault. By which I mean with absolute certainty that this video is calling Obama the devil that will bring about the end of days. So yes, it's very similar to The Bible on the History Channel in that regard. Obama is raising taxes to such an Extreme-O level that eventually, all forms of currency will be depleted and we will be forced to in fact give technological penance.

Better than a technological...nevermind

So then Obama has forced of the devolution of technology, which in turn forced the devolution of music because these modern day artists with their Brooklyn Shakes and Gang Damn Styles don't understand that music can live on cassette tapes. With the disappearance of the internet, we're thrown back in a pop culture time machine to the 1980s and the world adjusts accordingly. Still not convinced that Obama is to blame? Well shut up and I'll prove you wrong!

The city is idealistically colored because in Obama's future happy fun time COMMUNIST land there must be some way to try and appease the people. But then Vibe appears as a hero for the people. You can tell because people cheer his name and mob mentality never makes groups of people cheer for terrible things (except for Philadelphia Eagle fans). Thus, Abbadobama himself must come down and try to crush the happiness and hopes of Motor City.

When the spiritual Voldemort comes down, notice how he tries to stand high above everyone else! A false pulpit for a preacher of lies! It's all lies, people! Listen to me because I'm right and Obama is Satan! Will Vibe win? That's a good question. You see, Vibe is the glimmer of hope in a dark world. He's America. And right now, we don't know if America will win out against Obama, especially if he gets elected to a 5th term.

Quick! To the Jesus-mobile!

The Politics of Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny

There are always many claimants to a position of authority. Invariably, conflict will arise as parties clamoring for power fight, each believing they have been given the destiny to rule. You want a historical example of this? BOOM WAR OF THE ROSES BITCHES! Oh, but now you're complaining that Henry VI is too outdated for you to relate to? Well first off, screw you for not appreciating the glory that is having a war between two families because of, if I remember my history correctly, Charlie Rose interviewed the House of York instead of the House of Lancaster. Secondly, North Korea. Those sly little buggers are just absolutely convinced that someone out there gives a damn about their threats.

"I...I tried to do my hair nicely for you, USA-senpai."

So yeah, conflict is kind of a big deal in life. Hell, Sigmund Freud based his entire psychoanalytic theory on conflict. Conflict and penises, but since we try not to go into R-rated territory, we'll keep talking about conflict sans genitals. How can we expose children to conflict's escalation throughout the hierarchy of society? Such a complicated concept can't be easily ingrained into pop culture.  Or so you thought! Enter Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck!

I don't think Bugs and Daffy require any legitimate introduction, besides saying that if you need an introduction you never had a childhood. What did you do all day, play outside? Psh, loser! Daffy and Bugs represent the quintessential format of conflict that has been repeated through time immemorial, or at least whatever form of conflict can be manipulated into matching this post. Daffy and Bugs spent years struggling against each other for some type of control or attention, but if that was all the necessary criteria for this post my sister and I would be the best example.

 

Mom never paid attention, not even when
I intentionally snapped my own neck...

No, you see Daffy and Bugs are the prime example of a political power struggle thanks to their personalities and how they are shown in the conflict. Daffy Duck, in case you don't recall asinine children's cartoons like I do, was always intensely competitive about his supposed rivalry with Bugs Bunny, who was always flippant and nonchalant. Besides always upsetting me because holy Hell, why is the socially awkward guy with a lisp allowed to get absolutely wrecked every episode, this mirrors almost perfectly how these conflicts play out in real life. 

Though the historical Bugs destroyed the economy by
devoting all resources to carrot plantations. 

Let's consider the Daffy Duck side of the issue. Have you ever met someone that just refuses to pay you any heed? You try desperately to get their attention, but it feels like they're unaware you even exist. We all have, but let's scale that up from the individual to the size of a nation. For instance, we'll resume with North Korea because those jokes are always both easy and fun. North Korea wants to noticed more than anything else, craving the recognition of other countries as a major world player. However, just like your suave as shit older brother, the United States plays it cool and only notices North Korea when they strip naked, cover themselves in glitter paint, and start stabbing the dirt because, "it looked at me funny." Daffy Duck got some attention when he exploded, and so does North Korea, but hopefully not literally because they're kind of at the dirt-stabbing mode right now.

Bugs plays the authority figure, confident in his position. He knows that his power is secure because he knows it has been granted by a higher power. At least externally, he's cool as a cucumber that has been locked in a freezer and wears sunglasses and a leather jacket all the time. Damn, that's one cool sounding vegetable right there. Anyway, the Bugs persona has manifested itself countless times. He's Julius Caesar entering Rome having after the die was cast. He's Napoleon marching through Germany, having crowned himself Emperor. He's Bart Simpson prank-calling Moe's Tavern and asking for I. P. Freely, assured that Moe will never be able to find him and follow through on his threats to "cut [him] like a fish and drink [his] blood." Also, Moe is a psychopath. And so it goes on, with Bugs always playing it off, only furthering angering Daffy.

"That's it Bugs, I'm going to choke you with your own entrails
and offer your remains to the High Demon Beelzebub!"

And so it plays out again and again. In some depressing sense, aren't we all Daffy though? I mean, we spend this indeterminate period of time chasing after...something. Maybe a possible future or a lost past. Maybe fame or anonymity. Regardless, we just want it to be ours because we deserve it to be ours, but some jackass keeps coming along and taking it out from underneath our feet and he didn't even have to put any effort into it, whereas we've been trying for years. In an hour he charmed the girl you've been chasing for years, and you sit in the dark thinking about what could have been. You push yourself deeper into the self-loathing, just wishing that you could have had one more chance. One chance is all you needed to show the world your worth! But the asshole that is the world refused to give you even that. So there you sit, alone once again. Imagining that maybe in some parallel world, you have a family. A girlfriend and some young ones. Maybe the you in that world is happy. You can hope.

And you hope they don't wear pants either.

Disarmed at Last!

The world needs a hero now more than ever. Between North Korea acting like that bitchy 8th grade girl Suzy that wanted you to ask her to the winter formal and polar bear schools being shot up by crazy gunmen with high cholesterol, it's all going to shit. The news can only report the bad because that's all there is to report.

Or so you thought. But there is in fact a hero out there, created to teach us the valuable lessons that Ms. Johnson never could because she was so busy blaming us for poking Suzy with a sharpened pencil because fuck Suzy. That hero is indeed out there. He exists. He has a name. He is Arm Fall Off Boy!!!

And ladies, that's not all he can detach...

And yes, we understand the immediate reaction is to swoon at the pure manliness, but try to keep your panties drier than when Suzy told the whole class you peed yourself. Arm Fall Off Boy is all man, all the time, but with that touch of boyish good looks and lack of limbs to win over your parents! And not only is Arm Fall Off Boy the most charming person since Albert Fish, but he's also an expert strategist. I bet you, like some second rate 31st century villain named Sucky Suzy, thought that his arm would detach right at those ridges between yellow and orange. Instead, he tricks you and gives himself 2 extra inches to beat the everloving evil out of you. That's strategy that would make Napoleon make 3 inches taller (but not vertically). 

Know what else is in that strategy? A life lesson about the evils of segregation. Why separate the yellow and orange when you can keep them together. E Pluribus Unum, and this unum is gonna get shoved straight up your ass  if you don't stop being evil, just like that really dark tape that you swore with your friend you'd never discuss in public. Arm Fall Off Boy understands that he's a public figure that is looked up to, with the possibility of being a pariah if he slips up, so he decides to make a powerful statement. My God, this man is the Rosa Parks of the 31st Century, but with less sitting and more ass whooping with detached legs.

Legs that are made of freaking rocks apparently

Want to know what else is great about Arm Fall Off Boy, besides everything? He's quite obviously a grown man. Many others in his situation wouldn't have kept going with their dream of joining a team of super-powered teenagers, but Arm Fall Off Boy keeps his vaguely pedophilic aspirations going, refusing to believe that tearing yourself limb from limb isn't advantageous to the criminal masterminds trying to do the exact same thing, but in a more convoluted way. He's a gentleman above all else, with manners that MegaBitch Suzy never possessed. He sees the desperation in the evil-doers actions and pities them, so he just maims himself to give them some hope of possible victory. Then he goes pop pop to watch them motherfuckers drop, yo. The pity's all an illusion, just like the villain's hopes of victory. Arm Fall Off Boy may keep his boyish name and hopes, but he's got the resolute justice of a noose. A noose made of justice!

Justice Noose: Coming this fall to FOX

Arm Fall Off Boy isn't just some man that can teat through the muscle and bones of his own body. He's a hero like no other, willing to constantly maim himself for the good of the innocent civilian. He will PLORP his arm off and KRAK it against a table all day if it means even one life saved or one day rooming with teenagers draped in spandex. I'm not saying Arm Fall Off Boy should be knighted; I'm asking why he hasn't been elected King yet, and not in some rigged election like when Suzy won class president because she bribed everyone with Snickers. Just try and see Arm Fall Off Boy as greater than the sum of his limbs and you'll know the truth. The only thing this man could've never detach from himself? His heart.

Accepting Reality with Zach Braff

Living is no more a sin than dying, and anyone who says differently is caught in a trap of overly idealistic dogma condemning them to a fruitless endeavor of what may best be called an empty shell of potential life. Sorry if that bursts your bubble and sends you spiraling downwards into a life of depression and methamphetamines and botched alley abortions, but then again you probably should be basing life philosophies on some random blog. Also, you deserve all those bad things to happen in your life.

Oh, I'm sorry, did that sound cruel? Good. It was meant to sound cruel. Also, I'm not sorry. Also, I lied when I told you you were pretty. That's right, you were fat in your prom dress. Look, this blog isn't here to sugar coat anything, which is why we publish articles like Yo Gabba Gabba and the Horrors of Communism. Instead, we're here to expose the truth about why your life sucks, and one of our biggest allies comes from Hollywood famous man Zach Braff. That's right, random white actor #96512 completely backs what we do here!

Zach Braff, seen here being white

You see, Mr. Braff knows what's up in the world. He understands that you having an awful life is your own damn fault. He comprehends that it's all worth it because at least one person is laughing at your pain, and yes it's probably him laughing about how much you suck. How is it clear that Zachary Braff's ideology is right in the fact that it fits in with what this post is about? Easy, Zach Braffery is a prolific speaker, eloquently stating his positions on matters in such a clear manner that even you can understand them.

Give this man all the Cabinet positions. All. Of. Them

Just look at that quote. Look at that and try to tell me there isn't some deeper meaning. You can't! And not just because you can't talk to people through a computer screen, idiot. The Honorable Braff delves deep into the lives we all lead, understanding that maybe we kill a few puppies now and then to drink their blood as sustenance, but that doesn't automatically condemn us as terrible people. In fact, not drinking their life-giving fluids would be the crime here! The joys in life coming from living, and also from sometimes being El Chupacabra.

But you see, Braff, the Great and Powerful not only speaks to the current times with messages about clean energy. He speaks of so much more, and everything he says is so weighty with meaning and substance that we may be forced to devote the next 6 months purely to analyzing a single quote.

He can speak toward the core of any person's life, including my own:

It's like he knows me.

The insight pierces through all of the secrets and lies we secrete into pies during our worthless suburban lives. We believe everything to be cloaked in mystery, even human torment, but Take Zach, Rewind it Braff can see that the pain we feel and realize it is that pain that is a true illusion. Prejudice, darkness, and hatred? Perhaps it is natural. Perhaps, just perhaps, it is that nature of hatred that enlightens us and provides us with true joy.

It may sound like this is getting dark (and that gets me hot), but there's no darkness here. Just realizing that only one man knows the true key to happiness and can admit the truths we are too afraid to grasp. Like nubile, plump teenagers meeting our first guidance counselors, we are not willing to embrace what we are told by our more informed elders that this is what we want. But Zach Attack knows.

"Hatred is the opiate of the Godhead."
-Zach Braff, on adoption

It is suggested that every man, woman, child, and pregnant teenager on Maury take a moment to peruse the wisdom of Zach Braff. What he says is not always pleasant to hear (and it is only so because, as established, you are just the worst), but it is always what we SHOULD hear. Without Zach "Hister" Braff, we would be aimless and roaming the mortal coil as if we had some sort of purpose, value, or meaning. But with the Demozachric Republic of Braff, we can at least be comforted by the fact that our state of inferiority means that there is one who must, therefore, be superior. That man, of course, is Zachtacular "Great on Average" Braff.

And I now vouch for him, publicly, so all haberdashers (eclectic or otherwise) to hear, listen, and support his wisdom. While it may be difficult, at first, to accept that you are all basically terrible, you will soon be comforted knowing that someone out there is busy being incredible for you. There is no longer any need for hopes, dreams, or ambitions. Rest, guys. Our guardian angel has it covered.

"We should probably get around to legalizing forced sodomy."
-Zach Braff, on legalizing forced sodomy.

Resurrection of the Brotherhood

No, this isn't some super elaborate April Fool's Day prank where we promise you amazing things like the return of this site and then crush your dreams by never updating again. Unlike that time my parents promised me love and affection, this is real! On a side note, here's my shoutout to Hobo Billy for keeping me safe and helping me get back on my feet over the past month after my parents may or may not have thrown me into the middle of Baltimore!

A face forged by meth and a heart forged of gold.

To celebrate our return and it coinciding with Easter, we thought it appropriate to analyze a work that epitomizes the ancient archetype of the resurrection myth. The resurrection story has been refitted throughout the history of civilization and dates back at least, like 37 years. Maybe even more, who knows? The basic skeleton of the story is the deity or hero goes through the dark reaches of the Underworld and returns to the world of the living, having completed his quest. It's seen in The Epic of Gilgamesh, the trials of Hercules, Zombie Jesus, and the Jonas Brothers.

Hero, deity, teenage heartthrobs, or all of the above?

In their 2006 single Year 3000, the Jonas Brothers look at their disappearance and emergence from the depths of Hades. It starts out simple enough...

One day when I came home at lunchtime,

I heard a funny noise.

Went out to the back yard to find out if it was,

One of those rowdy boys.

You see, the Jonas Brothers want to make sure we're aware of their humanity. Far from being the distantly omnipotent god figures, they have a soft side that we can all relate to. They have to eat! They go through normal bodily processes like hunger and pooping and all! Just look at them. For God's sake, they're so like us that maybe, just maybe, it's possible that one day I can kidnap one for myself and make him love me.

YOU WILL BE MINE KEVIN!!!

And now back to the less kidnap-y filled part of our program. The boys soon find out that the sound is not being made by some rowdy boys, but instead it is their neighbor that has jury rigged a time machine out of his couch. SCIENCE! The neighbor convinces them to travel to the Year 3000, and since the Jonas Brothers never learned stranger danger and how to avoid being raped, they jump into this weird man's couch hoping to go on some mysterious adventure.

This is where the myth really starts. You see, the Year 3000 is the Underworld. The boys have died, at least in the metaphorical sense, by leaving their world behind to venture in an unknown world. Here, they must face the trials that come with going through such a dangerous world. 

I've been to the year 3000

Not much has changed but they lived under water.

And your great great great grand daughter,

Is doing fine 

The first trial they face is thusly explained. They must first become aware of their situation. Upon arrival they are doubtful of the success of their Rape Neighbor's time machine, noticing that nothing really seems different. It is only the cue that the inhabitants are living a life full of sin, or "living underwater," that cues them off. What a terrible land indeed, to see that their one of their family has descended into the evils of the world! If only she had kept on her purity ring like all the Jonas Brothers had!

Pictured: More effective than any jewelry

The next trial to face is the temptation that the Underworld faces them...

I took a trip to the year 3000.

This song had gone multi-platinum.

Everybody bought our 7th album.

It had outsold Kelly Clarkson.

The representation of greed and want appears, telling the boys that if they give up on their quest they will be dutifully rewarded with all their hearts desire, which is apparently to fulfill their vendetta against Kelly Clarkson. Because screw you, Kelly Clarkson. The boys, being pure of heart and full of strength, are able to shoot down the offer of being as popular as Guns N Roses' Use Your Illusion I and continue on their quest through the depths of Hades. 

Eventually, after making sure they tell us as many times as the can that they are in the Year 3000, the boys are able to return to the light. Though the details are absent, it must be assumed that they ended up fighting and destroying the evil Kelly Clarkson by thrusting a dagger through her heart.

Steve Carell, wounded after his fight with Kelly Clarkson

So the boys have returned to us, full of the knowledge of the Underworld and able to keep us from being led astray. For it is in their names that we give thanks and celebrate this Easter Break, for without them we would fall victim to the evils of Kelly Clarkson and premarital sex. Come, let us listen to the hymns of our people as we remember their struggles.

In the name of the Joe, the Nick, and the Holy Kevin,

Amen.

I Hate Women

Do not mistake this post as representing my hatred of women. I, in fact, do not hate women in the least! I think it's a miracle of benevolence that when Father Nature messed up and created the first female, he made the best of the situation. He said to Man, "Sure, this creature is weaker than you. And stupider. And nags you constantly. And really, overall just has no redeeming qualities but one. Enjoy boobs existing!" What a powerful thing for the patriarch of the world to do. Now you may be thinking to yourself, "Blog that I apparently believe sentient, isn't that a harsh stance? Aren't they deserving of respect?" No, they aren't. And I have evidence to back me up. I have the epitome of media detailing just how superior men are. I have Peanuts!

And I didn't mean that as a phallic metaphor!

Yes, Peanuts by the late Charles Schulz. Though a name like Schulz may make him seem completely unassuming, this man knew wazzup. His iconic newspaper comic is littered with insights to the truth, like tiny windows into the bathroom that you always hope no one will see you at. Let's examine this with the more widely known characters in the strip, Snoopy and Woodstock.

Swoooooon

Now it's obvious that Snoopy, seen above as the suave Joe Cool, is the manliest man to ever jive. Look at those sweet shades, that relaxed lean, and that badass sweater. He's so cool he doesn't even need his glasses to rest on his ears! They stay up by pure force of will. Schulz has created what man can be, but then has the stark contrast of what women are. Look now at Woodstock, a character who can't even speak. All Woodstock does is nag Snoopy, bringing him down, man. Woodstock can only look up and hope to be of the same awesomeness as Snoopy, but knows it's impossible. Woodstock is a dweeb. A klutz. A poor imitation of Snoopy that can barely fly without crashing and is constantly surrounded by birds that look the exact same, all unable to achieve anything more.

Without Snoopy, Woodstock is nothing. Schulz even named Woodstock after the giant hippie orgy conspiracy "concert" just to get his point across. The concert, obviously a subversive attempt to rid America of all morality and proper khaki pants, would be nothing without drugs and was wholly dependent on the brainwashed kids being complicit is such terrible addictions like smoking beer.

As opposed to a smoking bear, which
 is everything America stands for.

Similarly, Woodstock is the female attempting to undermine the powerful, independent male. We're even given clues to make the obvious metaphor even clearer, as Woodstock is yellow. Yellow, as is widely known, is the stereotypical color for a very specific race: girls. As are Woodstock's beady little eyes and inability to speak English to Snoopy. All very characteristic of women, all encapsulated into one short, comical character. Snoopy, the strapping white male, must carry Woodstock behind like luggage. But luggage made of women, not in the creepy Buffalo Bob sense, but in a more metaphorical sense. The metaphorical sense that's all about how men are better than women in every single way.

Pictured: Men being 100% manly

The Very Hungry Abyss

The abyss is a terrifying sight, if it can be called such. In truth, it is more of an all consuming experience that pervades every sense on the body with a gently nuanced fear. A well constructed fear, even. It wants you to scream in agony, but at the same time would love some scones. That kind of fear. The true substance of the abyss though, and the one that strikes fear deeper in the heart than anything else imaginable, is the knowledge that somewhere, deep in the darkness and even farther in ourselves, lies the inescapable, the unfathomable, and the unmerciful. There lies us.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" -You, screaming

Let us backtrack. The self is terrifying. If you imagine the greatest foe you have, a good number of you will answer yourself. Or yourself, but with an evil looking mustache. And mustache prejudice aside, this is for a very simple reason, psychologically speaking. All external enemies and forces can be beaten or avoided, but the self cannot be. Whatever you do today to defeat yourself, tomorrow you'll still be here in one way or another. And an attempt at avoidance only goes down the road of things like addiction, where there's an effort to abolish recognition of the self. And the Very Hungry Caterpillar inches into our discussion.

The Very Hungry Caterpillar, written in 1969 by Eric Carle, has sold approximately one copy for every minute of its existence. Imagine doing one thing every minute since your birth, and if you just thought of breathing or something like that you're a Cheaty McCheater Face Stupid Head. So why? Why is an arguably simple children's picture book so damn popular for so long?

Illuminati conspiracy?

It's actually a very easy answer. We are the Very Hungry Caterpillar. In Him We Trust, to extend the weird money thing. You see, TVHC has not stared into the abyss, but rather we stare into the abyss when you read about him. In the recesses of our soul lives TVHC, and reading the book is a way to have some tangible version of him to manipulate. Though we cannot manipulate the story in the basic sense of altering the process of events, we can treat it as we please. We can keep the abyss on a bookshelf, under our bed, or burn it while we paint ourselves ritualistically and kill a virgin goat free of blemishes (otherwise known as celebrating my birthday).

Even more than the fact that we can control the exposure to the abyss is what's within the actual tome. The book details the journey of TVHC as he eats almost as much as Rosie O'Donnell, progressively becoming larger and larger. In the end, he manages to metamorphose into a beautiful butterfly, much like I dream I will one day transform into someone that is excessively boy pretty.

One day...

You see, that is our desire for the darkness. TVHC eats and eats and eats, consuming our very soul. We may pretend to hold issue with this, but in all honesty we do not. Humans are a self-deprecating bunch, prone to attacks of self pity and doubt. When TVHC eats away at our soul, he's really just confirming the biases we have against ourselves. Once again, it is still important that we hold, or pretend to hold some control, over his abilities. When we externalize the abyss into the text, it allows us to decide when we cannibalize our self-esteem. We might not do it when Sally says yes to going to prom with you, but when you realize Sally only said yes to make Peter jealous you can decide your soul needs a swift kick in the nuts.

Through the consumption comes a change though, and this is the change we all hope for. Society at large puts forth this idea of character building. If there are enough struggles in life, then we will come out better for it. This belief even seeps into our guiding faiths, as seen in the Buddhist declaration that "life is a struggle."

Actually a translation error of "my wife is a struggle"

More westernized faiths hold to the dogma that the struggles in this life are simultaneously God testing our faith and a preparation for the next life, where it will be easier. TVHC completes the cycle at this point. He devours our soul, though only when we let him, to shape a better person. The leaves, the apple, everything, it's all different aspects of us that we allow ourselves to eat away at in the hopes of a perfecting of self. The desire is to reach a point where so much has been eaten away at that we are worthy to enter Nirvana/Heaven/Brahma. We systematically allow the abyss to take part of us by convincing ourselves that it is just the fat being trimmed off in the pursuit of a grander goal.

At this point there may be a question. "If TVHC is the abyss," you stupidly state to an inanimate computer screen, "why is it the one that transforms? Wouldn't we expect it to die for eating the unwanted parts of the being?" Decent question, I'm glad I asked. You see, here's where the human tendency of self-deprecation comes back into play.

"Remember me? I'm the reason you drink too much!"

We fear we're the abyss to someone else. We are terrified that when we see a version of ourselves in the abyss, it's really just a mirror. If we are TVHC, it means that we're the ones taking all the unwanted qualities of someone else onto ourselves. Whether it be the parent or the friend, it's the thought that instead of becoming better for our struggles, we're actually becoming worse. And that is why the book is so popular. It says that TVHC is the abyss, collecting the scraps of someone's life, but instead of dying or becoming as big a douchebag as your Uncle Bob, he transforms. The Very Hungry Caterpillar achieves perfection through his imperfection. Isn't that what we want?

Yes.

It is. We don't want to cast off parts of ourselves. As flawed as we may be, we like who we are. So therein lies the hope and the dream. TVHC took what was undesirable in us, thanked us for the snack, then reached a higher state. A menagerie of doubt and pity that we feed him allows him to change into a butterfly, beautiful and free. We fear the abyss and we fear that we are the abyss, but TVHC takes both those fears and soothes them. He tells us that it's okay to be imperfect. There's no real problem in drinking one more soda or taking one more bump of cocaine, or maybe like eight more bumps at the same time, because somewhere in that mistake lies the possibility to become a new, better being. The butterfly is not the self wiped free of flaws. Rather, the butterfly is those flaws being experienced and then a decision being made, free of dogmatic rule, as to what to do with those flaws. The Very Hungry Caterpillar is the worst us, changed into the best.

Garfield and You

Today we shall hear a harrowing tale. One that transcends religion, race, and what football team you like, even if that might be just totally impossible to imagine. It's here. It's time to talk about a work that so carefully follows the life trajectory of man that to deny the work is to deny the self. It is a tale of the progression of mindset through the ages. Yes, children, gather around and hear the story. Weep when you must weep, laugh when you must laugh, and mostly groan at the forced humor and generally unfunniness that has endured for over 350 years [citation needed]. Today, we talk of Garfield.

Bill Murray once tried to kill all people associated with
this movie. He was also high the entire time.

Garfield has lived, whether wanted or not, since 1978. At its beginning, it was hailed as an edgy, often politically incorrect comic strip focusing on the relationship between a cat and his schizophrenic owner that harbors illusions over his cat's intelligence. Apparently there are people who look at this work and do not immediately think to themselves, "Wow, I wish I could sue Jim Davis for stealing my time and my soul," and upon further investigation the reason becomes clear. You see, Garfield's descent into being just an absolutely terrible piece of art that merchandises itself at all times mirrors the human experience. Though I once viewed Jim as a money hungry idiot, I now view him as, yes, still a money hungry idiot, but one that has infused his work with a deep theme.

BUT IS HE AS HUNGRY AS GARFIELD IS??? HAHAHAHAHA KILLMENOW

Garfield's start reflects our own beginnings in life, full of rebellion against "the Man" for totally opressing our middle class being. "How dare society tells me to wear pants in public!" we scream, founding the Guys Against You, Society! which admittedly attracted an entirely different crowd than expected. Much more oiled up and sensitive than expected too, admittedly. Really willing to hear about your problems and comfort you.

From there, a progression occurs. Odie's owner, Lyman disappears from the script. And though it is debatable whether he moved away or Jon had a sudden urge for human flesh, the important part is that he left Jon, Garfield, and Odie's lives. This loss forced Jon to change. Now he had not only one, but two mouths to feed. Jon, like everyone else, experienced his first tangible loss in the world, and though he did not show external signs of grief, one can only imagine his inner torment that constantly haunted him.

"Should I have cooked him medium rare instead??"

Just like us, Jon struggles through his loss, inevitably being forced to move on and pretend that he didn't kill that guy. From here his mind begins to lose touch with itself. He appears more and more cartoonish, his eyes wide in absorbing the world around him. He tries to see everything in the moment, lest he lose someone yet again. Garfield becomes more and more human, even walking on his hind legs, which I had trouble with until I was around 5 years old (Shut up, I just really enjoyed crawling) as Jon tries to recreate a human presence.

Jon is us because he has a deepseeded inability to completely comprehend loss of someone dear. This loss strikes at him even deeper than that time you adopted a caterpillar and he died because apparently he doesn't like waffles as much as you do. Jon is only stirred to action by Garfield, a feline attempting vainly to regain his master. Only through a chance love does Jon find himself again.

In a showing of true human drama, Jon's unrequited love is at last returned by Liz Wilson, the veterinarian that seems to be the only one that actually wants Garfield to live. At this point, it is hard to differentiate as to whether it is reality or Jon's imagination at play, but that's the point. Reality is what we perceive it to be, and Jon's reality involves him being saved from the depths of sorrow by Liz. 

The gritty Garfield reboot never gained the necessary backers

Isn't this the same existence we all go through? The same human drama that replicates itself throughout time? We begin with a friend that we inevitably lose, forced into a new mindset and awareness that we are not immune to the tragedy of the world. Our view is altered and reality can never be quite so idealistic again. Only through the deep care of another can we hope to regain some sense of normality, even if only in our own minds. Jim Davis has recreated the essence of what it means to be human in a comic strip. Maybe that's why Garfield isn't funny. Maybe it's actually meant to be a serious comic and has just been disregarded since 1978. At this point the only appropriate action is to given Mr. Davis the Medal of Honor and elect him our president, for no one understands us so deeply as he does. That or we should realize the comic isn't funny in the least and ponder how in the Hell he keeps managing to vomit merchandise that the world in turn devours.

These movies have earned over $400 million.
There's no joke there, just depression.

Dr. Suess' Monomyth

Lord of the Rings. Harry Potter. Thundercats. What do all these stories have in common, besides a startling lack of minorities in them? Why, they all follow Joseph Campbell's monomyth of course! And to add to this storied list of...stories...that follow Joseph Campbell's explanation of what creates an epic hero on his quest is (drumroll please!) DR.SUESS' I HAD TROUBLE IN GETTING TO SOLLA SOLLEW!!! Time to celebrate the new addition!

I blame the Quilligan Quail for how out of hand this got.

I didn't want this big a mess, not at all! I did not!

To those unfamiliar with the tome of research and knowledge contained in the seminal work of Joseph Campbell's Hero With a Thousand Faces, I mean assuming you didn't get it read to you as a bedtime story, the monomyth is a process by which a protagonist goes through, essentially, a checklist to see if he will qualify to be "epic." Now this checklist isn't like the one the police went through that one time when you squatted and coughed, nor is the term epic used to refer to the incident immediately before the squat and cough wherein you tried to jump over a moving car. Campbell's epic hero is a timeless protagonist that will be visibly related to by those who read/watch him, excluding hipsters.

Oh, it exists? Too mainstream.

Let's start with the beginning point in the journey of our protagonist, henceforth known in this article as Jimothy. Merrily walking along, he encounters just a shitload of problems, including tripping and having a bug bite him. Obviously this kid's life is some cruel joke by God. For the love of all that is holy, two difficulties? In one day?!? Well thank the good Lord Jesus that a chap rolls up on his "One-Wheeler Wubble" that is, despite the name, not a sex toy to invite him to the mystical city of Solla Sollew where few problems are had. Because two problems are a lot I guess?

Anyway, the pair then crosses the threshold (another step) when they leave the boundaries of Jimothy as they go trailing and their camel gets sick. Then the Wubble chap gets all high and mighty and douchey, making Jomothy pull them all the way to the camel physician and I just realized how the Wubble chap might just be a rapist. Kids at home, don't go on anyone's One-Wheeler Wubble. It only ends in dark closets and bad touch.

Having finally ditched the rapist, after what can only be assumed is months of captivity locked in Buffalo Bill Wobbler's hideout, Jimothy hits the road of trials. His trial is to stay in a old house in the middle of the rainstorm. He awakens to find his home swept away by the rain, which was just poor architectural planning on the part of those builders.

"Oh yeah, totally safe. Only 7 previous owners died here!"

Jimothy is saved by what turns out to be a General Genghis Kahn Schmitz that wants him to fight in his army to slay a Poozer, which quickly turns into a battle to defeat an army of Poozers with a pea shooter. Suess' metaphor for the sexual conquering of women by the historical Genghis Kahn with his "pea shooter" notwithstanding, Jimothy escapes through Campbell's apotheosis in the form of a pipe in the ground that represents his journey in the underworld, taking him to Solla Sollew.

Having seemingly reached his destination and achieved Campbell's ultimate boon, Jimothy is horrified to discover that the city of legend has a single, solitary problem. This will not stand for the honorable Jimothy, demander of no problems ever. But then, an epiphany! When invited to a city with absolutely no problems ever, Jimothy doesn't go. Instead, he heads home. 

Yes, Jimothy goes through the magic flight home and becomes the master of two worlds, both part of the monomyth. Jimothy knows now that his quest was truly to find that he has the power to conquer all his problems. Jimothy reaches the stage wherein he has freedom to live and share knowledge, which he does by...swinging a bat at animals that have harmed him in the past. So Suess' moral is to beat animals I guess? And that will make you an epic hero? Well damn, we better start respecting Michael Vick more.

It's that or a lesson about minorities. And yes, Snarf is a minority. 

Godzilla: An Enlightenment vs Industrialist Struggle

Pop in that Blue Öyster Cult CD and set your cultural stereotypes, because Godzilla is in the house, but hopefully not literally; I don’t have a house that big and I’m pretty sure Godzilla isn't a polite house guest. 

"God damnit Godzilla, did you eat all the Tostito's???"

The storied franchise Godzilla has been through an insane number of sequels, including the 1998 Roland Emmerich rendition which I believe won the Nobel Peace Prize for the good it brought to the world. Thus, the version to be examined will be said classic reimagining. Now, often times Godzilla is looked upon as a metaphor for Japanese fear of atomic weapons or the backlash against technological innovation in a post-war Japan, but that’s just a bunch of pansies deciding they don’t really want to look at the truth. The real truth is that Godzilla is a historical analog for the Industrialist backlash against Enlightenment ideals and the repercussions of said backlash.

Let’s get some context up in this hizzy. The Enlightenment was all about democracy and free thought and shit.

Pictured: "And shit"

The Industrial Revolution brought on quite a different viewpoint, all about mechanizing the world and colonizing lesser countries. So what's happening today, but with cotton and precious metals instead of cheap shoes and...precious metals. When it came to Enlightenment ideas, the big wigs of Industrialization weren't huge fans. The cruel stance of the Industrialist leaders in regards to their workers had some pretty tragic results, as well as its own backlash in the form of unions and welfare and other shit.

Pictured: "Other shit"

The Enlightenment and Industrial Revolution were two pivotal times in recent world history, and Roland Emmerich, being the meaningful purveyor of deep themes that he is, perfectly extrapolated their importance in movie form. At the beginning of the movie we see the government, the Industrialists, attempting to contend with the uprising of Godzilla, the embodiment of Enlightenment ideals. Later in the movie we find that the government had attempted to cover up its knowledge of Godzilla, much like the Industrialist leaders tried to stamp out the suggestion that suffrage or human rights were things that their power was founded on. Along with this, the French desperately attempt to hide their involvement in the creation of Godzilla, hiding their own violent past.

"Reign of Terror? What's that" -The French

Godzilla, after decades of hiding, rises up and destroys giant tankers in the Pacific and Atlantic, an occasional strike or call for dignity that the government must hide and refuse to acknowledge. However, when Godzilla attacks New York City, a symbol for the growing power of resurgent Enlightenment ideals, the Industrialist government can no longer deny the truth of the matter and makes the only logical decision: bomb the ever loving shit out of the Enlightenment creation and hope to destroy all remnants of what it holds true. Though they celebrate in the destruction of the monster of their own creation, the fight is not over.

Immediately after the contrarian’s “annihilation,” it’s found that eggs have been laid. Godzilla, being the Enlightenment martyr, has left in the working class seeds of insurrection and thoughts of freedoms that work against the industrialists. Having discovered the eggs, Matthew Broderick and his team, representatives of the white, property owning males that held slight power, alert the Industrial heads hoping for a quelling. Instead, the government destroys the eggs through slight compromises such as minimum wage and basic safety. The hope is that these concessions will be enough to please the Enlightenment idealists.

Instead of being pleased, the idealists are only empowered to form greater collections for freedom and revive the grand monster of Enlightenment as Godzilla rises from the ashes to fight the government again. However, these vast organizations are their own worst enemies, as Godzilla becomes entangled and is easily killed. Though the great collection has been destroyed, an egg hatches again, demanding more rights. Thus the cycle continues, leading towards vast swaths of reforms sweeping the world like a broom sweeping the floor, or some other metaphor that doesn't suck.

Mop mopping the kitchen?

Obviously a fine collector of knowledge, Master Emmerich allows a history of reformation to seep into the mind unknowingly through his magnum opus, Godzilla: Or How a Government Must Bend to its Peoples (the original title). The reformers won, just as Godzilla’s spawn will eventually win. All in due time will the government be toppled and rights be had for all. Except Third World Countries. If they wanted rights, they should’ve been born here. After all, Daddy needs a new pair of cheap Nike's!