My post-nipple-arrow world

July 19, 2007 at 10:47 pm (Meta, Off-topic)

I’m happy and sad. Like a month ago I noticed a bizarrely high level of ambient traffic on here which I eventually traced to having a picture of a nipple with a big arrow pointing at it on the front page of google image results for searches like “Ouran Host Club” and “gay anime”. It wasn’t even a nipple from Ouran! Now traffic is back down and sure enough the image passed out of the search results. On the one hand, now I can sort of assume hits correspond to people reading posts, but OHHHH the e-penis deflation! So to cheer myself up, I posted some more nipples below the cut.

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Blog-rollin’

July 19, 2007 at 7:35 pm (Meta)

Every couple months I remember to update my blogroll thing, adding stuff I’ve found that I really like and culling others (usually because they stopped updating). This time I went through and added roll-over descriptions to most of them. I tried to be informative at first, but then gave up and just put in random stuff.

Since anime blogdom has omnipresent aggregators, the need for a blogroll is sort of, ehh? I guess at one point it was supposed to just give people an idea of the blogs you actually read, but I’m not sure I see the point in that. I read about half of the blogs on my list, and check most of the rest if I don’t read them. A few (like Memento) I keep on mostly because they are generally high quality, even though I don’t read them. Conversely, not every anime-related blog I read is on the list. The reason I put them on the sidebar is that I think *other people* might be interested in them.

If you are looking for more anime blogs to read, I would recommend any one that is on the list (the ones labeled ‘Blog (whatever)’ I mean). Most, but not all of them are also on the aggregators I listed above.

Btw, just assume this blog and everything I link to is NSFW. Most of it is not, but I am not a good judge of what is “objectionable”.

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Enter the Host, cont.

April 15, 2006 at 11:36 pm (Meta)

The crowd is captured. For this evening, they will move with their host’s words. They will laugh when he jokes, and weep when he sighs. The host continues his introduction, but the performance has already begun.

“My life began in the wilds of Borneo, twenty-two years ago, during Monsoon season, already an orphan. Just as I escaped her womb, lightning struck my mother killing her instantly. My father I did not meet until years later. The storm destroyed the entire area, yet somehow I survived. Fortunately my saviors arrived in haste, visitors from a far away galaxy, they bore me up into the cosmos, and gave to me a childhood full of wonder and fantasy. They gave to me a consciousness of culture, and of the mind. We sailed through the stars on a didactic adventure until I was a hot-blooded youth, seventeen years old, with a burning desire to return home.

“I sought my father in America, and found him, but we had few words to exchange. I began to realize that I’d never really known this, the world of my birth. Many of its customs seemed strange, though I was no stranger to strange custom. I decided to entertain four years at a University in America; there I could gather a better understanding of this world, while living in a place likely to be less conscious of my then awkward habits. I found myself in an artful world, that only in the past few decades had begun to dispense with needlessly rigid creative architectures in favor of a rawer inspiration. I come here, this night, to share with you my reflections. Though I be young and incomplete in my knowledge of the greater context of these affairs, I hope you will find them, if not insightful, then, at the least, entertaining.”

The host bows, and the crowd applauds.

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Enter the Host

April 15, 2006 at 4:47 pm (Meta)

Eventually I will make a fancy about page, but why not, for now, a more…personal introduction.

*waddles up to microphone wearing cross-play Princess Leia outfit that shows off his pop gut and makes young children turn away in terror*

“Hiii, mina-san! I’m Seth-san, but you can call me Seth. I’m very VERY happy to be here. I’m single, and my three sizes are–”

Twelve men in black masks descend from the sky on ropes of infinite strength, catching the man at the microphone in a large burlap sack, and morphing his ecstatic introduction into muffled cries. There is smoke and the sound of firecrackers. The smoke clears and the popping ceases; the military men are gone, as is the sacked narrator, and the microphone. The entire space goes silent for near on a minute. In the sky, afternoon is melting into evening. A wind slowly picks up, making waves in the immense curtains on stage. The audience collectively shivers, unprepared for the influx, as the wind whips through them becoming violent. Hats fly off, and well-dressed women yelp. Suddenly the entire curtain flies into the air, lifted by this omega draft, revealing not rows of props, actors, and equipment, but an immense red and black swirling portal that stretches across the entire width and height the curtains occupied moments ago. From this, a single carnation falls onto the stage, barely visible to those in the crowd. And then a man steps through, dropping to retrieve this flower without breaking his stride. He stands six feet tall, dressed in a top-hat, suit, and cape that are the black and red of the portal from which he emerged. Straight black hair descends from his hat to form a collar around the nape of his neck. He wears white gloves, a spotless complexion, and a playful smile.

This man approaches the front of the stage, fitting the carnation into the pocket of his shirt as he walks. Upon reaching the front, he stops, pitches a hand into the air, and snaps his fingers with a flourish. The curtain falls behind him, and the violent wind dies with such an immediancy that the air cracks in response, echoing the snap of the well-dressed man’s fingers.

He speaks without the need for a microphone.

“Good evening everyone. I apologize for the delay. I will be your host for the show tonight.”

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The World of Tomorrow

April 15, 2006 at 8:58 am (Meta)

Well, next week, more likely. This is the very very beta edition of GLWP. Probably many template changes to come. I’m not entirely sure I want to do this on the WP server, either. Response is much more sluggish than the WP install on ZoD. I think this will be alright for the moment, and if I’m still writing on here this Fall, I’ll just host it locally on Willis (my computer to be).

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The First Emanation

April 15, 2006 at 8:29 am (Meta)

I seem to have a habit of opening blogs late at night.

I tore the tape and plastic sheeting off of my windows yesterday, and let some fresh air into my third-floor bedroom for the first time in months. The weather is warming in Cleveland right now; Spring is trying to force its way into this city’s oppressive climes, and the scent of its oncoming fury keeps tipping in through my window, now that the barriers are gone. Olfactory memory is strong for me, and the breeze has gotten me reminiscing and brooding a bit: the perfect mindset for opening a blog.

I take the naming of things more seriously than many. Names highlight the power of language in brilliant neon. The rich breadth and depth of connotation possessed by our nouns and verbs and adjectives have is one reason that the Turing Test is a reasonable measure of intelligence. An ice cube isn’t just water in a solid-state, it’s this cold thing that you can feel melting into water in your hand, or changing the entire character of your beverage experience. Writing communicates because it draws on your experience with the world, and then contributes to it. And a name, or a title — perhaps the more appropriate term, in this case — is an attempt to summon all the connotation of a word or phrase and associate it with some new thing. Of course, blog titles are so ridiculously random and intentionally or unintentionally overreaching that I think most readers quietly ignore them. So I churned up something nice and overreachingly pretentious to call upon that lack of attention in what is clearly a pointless effort.

Then there’s this entire question of purpose. I’ve got two blogs already available to me, so why this other? The LiveJournal I’m hanging onto for flexibility and spontaneous chronicles of my pursuit of meat pies, and so forth; ZoD, on the other hand…I keep wavering about what I want to put on ZoD and what I want elsewhere. It has approximately zero content restrictions, but it still has a sort of ad-hoc purpose as a newsing-musing aggregate for the Ziggurati. However, lately I’m enamoured with writing on topics of a fairly specific bent. While this may not apply to the other Ziggurati, I’ve always fancied my presence there somewhat topically ephemeral and chaotic in nature, while this recent passion is more structured in nature. With such a distinct unit, I feel there is some call for a new template, a new location, a new title, a … okay, so I just want to wank endlessly about anime (and some other things) without concern for clogging up content elsewhere. Maybe I should have named it “An Adventure in Self-Emasculation.” That would have been totally emo.

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