The little brown kitten skipped across the meadow, humming merrily to himself. The sun was high in the sky, making the kitten’s brown coat shine like newly made mud.
“Aaah, what a glorious day!” he said to himself.
Suddenly, a big shadow fell across the kitten. Afraid, he turned around and saw a big black tomcat.
“EEP!” the kitten yelled. “BLACKBREATH THE FOUL!”
“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” the black cat growled. “It’s Blackmagic!”
“Says who?”
Puzzled, the tomcat replied, “Says me!”
“Mmm… I don’t believe you!”
“Listen you fat, little squirt—“
“Momma! Momma!” the kitten ran away, shouting at the top of his lungs. “Momma! Blackbreath is trying to eat me!”
“I’m not a cannibal you idiot!” Blackmagic yelled as he chased the kitten. “Come back here Tootie!”
“I’m not Tootie, I’m Brownie the Brave!”
“That sounds stupider than Tootie!”
“Momma!” The kitten ran up to a fluffy, cream-colored she-cat.
“What is this ruckus?” she asked. “Blackbreath, what’s going on?”
“IT’S BLACKMAGIC!”
“What? Since when?”
Frustrated, Blackmagic kicked a nearby lamp. It burned his toe, and he yowled.
“Listen, Dipsy—“
“Daisy.”
“I’m still calling you Dipsy. Listen Dipsy, Tootie here is a big pain in my crack, so will you cage him, spank him, or do SOMETHING?”
Dipsy turned to Tootie and whispered, “You’re right, he is a meany maniac.”
“I heard that!”
A sudden cloud of brown engulfed everyone.
“Oh! The stench!” Dipsy fainted.
“Momma!” Tootie went up to his mom. “Momma!” She didn’t respond. Swiftly, he pulled out her wallet and took her money.
“Hey squirt, what the schnitzel just happened?!” Blackmagic shouted.
“I don’t know!”
“You didn’t rip off another of those Tootie Toots, didya?”
“No! That was a Fatal Fart!”
“Oh jeez, those give me the willies! The collywobbles! The heebie jeebies!”
“You’re an idiot.”
“You’re too fat for your own good.”
“I’m just plump!”
“You’re a fatty—aaaaggh!”
“What?!”
Blackmagic groaned as something big, orange, fluffy and round bowled him over. “It’s—it’s—“
“Hawwo.” The brown cloud cleared, and next to Blackmagic sat a fat orange tom.
“Firefart…” Tootie said exasperatedly.
“What happened?” Dipsy asked. “Everything suddenly turned brown…”
“It’s okay Dipsy, I just let one rip again,” said Firefart.
“Not again…”
A little ginger cat with one white paw came running down the nearest hill. “Daddy!”
“Hey Bitey!”
“Daddy, Leafy took my thermometer and is using it for scientific experiments!” whined Bitey.
“Scientific how?”
Over in a little cavern, a little brown cat in a white lab coat and safety glasses measured some suspiciously colored liquids and scribbled down notes on a clipboard.
“Muhahahahaaaa!” she laughed maliciously. “Finally, my creation will be complete!”
“Whatcha up to?” a little gray tom cat came in, holding a pair of binoculars.
“Oh,” she coughed, “nothing, nothing. Why are you here, Smokey?”
“I wanted to ask you if you’d seen my boxer shorts. They’re Power Rangers print.”
“No, I haven’t seen them,” Leafy said, mixing a lime green liquid with a bubbling red one. There was a ring of smoke, then the mixture turned lavender. She dropped a bug in it, which sizzled and died.
“Well, can you tell me if you do?”
“Sure.”
Smokey ran out of the little cavern, then snuck under a bush and held up the binoculars to stare at the little white she-cat who was dancing in circles.
“Oh Snowy,” Smokey said dreamily, “how I wish you could be mine… OW!” Something had kicked him in the butt. He stood up and rubbed his backside, then turned and saw Patches, his calico friend.
“Hi…”
“You said we’d go hunting!”
“But Patches—“
“NOW!!!”
“Okay…” With one last glance at Snowy, Smokey was led away by Patches, into the forest.
“What are we hunting today?” Smokey asked. “Birds? Mice? I want a fat pigeon…”
“We’re going…” Patches turned and stared at him, “…to Safeway.”
“Oooh!” Smokey said. “Where’s that?”
“Over there,” Patches pointed ahead. “Waaaaaaaaay, way, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay that way.”
“Oh. Okay.” Smokey squinted to try and see past the trees.
“Come on, the jetpacks are ready.”
“What?”
Patches led Smokey over to an oak tree, where she burrowed underneath it and brought out two miniature backpacks. She put hers on and Smokey did the same.
“Click the blue button,” said Patches.
Smokey obeyed, and suddenly, he was shooting into the sky, above the treetops.
“I’m like a bird!” he yelled.
“I’ll only fly away!” Patches yelled.
“I don’t care if I’m lonely!” Smokey shouted.
“I don’t know where my home is!” Patches said.
“And baby all I need for you to know is—“
“COW!”
“HUH?!”
A flying cow flew towards them, and they ducked.
“Close call, huh?” Patches laughed nervously.
“Yeah…” said Smokey, his fur on end.
They flew past trees flowering with fruits, a farm a few miles off, and a flock of geese. Smokey got hit by a gosling as he flew.
“There’s Safeway!” Patches yelled suddenly.
“Finally!” sighed Smokey with a black eye. They landed behind a big black Toyota and removed their jetpacks.
“Okay, Smokey,” Patches said, “Safeway is a No-fur store, ya hear? If they see one of us kitties taking their Pillsbury strudels, they’re gonna bring a whole mob after us, and they’ll do anything to get rid of us. Even…”
Patches paused. And paused. And paused.
“Even what?” Smokey asked.
“Even hit us with their manky brooms!”
Smokey gasped. “That’s only for strict punishments!”
“That’s what I’m sayin’,” Patches said. “Now, we need to disguise ourselves, or sneak in.”
“What are we going to disguise ourselves as?” Smokey asked. “Did you bring wigs or something?”
“No,” Patches said, stroking her chin. “I guess we’ll have to strictly be spies.” She pulled some rope and hooks out of her jetpack.
“You brought that?” Smokey asked.
“Mmhmm,” Patches said. “Listen kid, I was told to come here by Cloudy. He gave me a whole list of items to steal—“
“We’re stealing?!” Smokey said in outrage.
“Shut up twinkle-toes,” Patches said. “This list is quite large, fifty items are needed. We’ll need to somehow smuggle out a whole shopping cart filled with stuff that our Pride needs. Okay?!”
“Okay…” Smokey said. He didn’t like getting in trouble.
“All right, let’s go,” Patches said. She grabbed her pack and ran across the parking lot. Suddenly, a silver Volvo came around the bend and hit her.
“PATCHES!” Smokey yelled. He was about to run towards her when the No-fur in the Volvo got out to inspect her. Then the male took her into his car.
“Uh-oh…” Smokey said to himself. As the No-fur parked his car and went into Safeway, Smokey ran to the car and looked in. Patches was lying in the backseat.
“And they call this place ‘Safe’way…” Smokey muttered as he pawed the window. Patches looked up and undid the car lock.
“Okay,” Patches didn’t look hurt at all. “I’ve got the No-fur’s wallet. Let’s boogie!!”
She hopped out of the car and ran for the store, Smokey right behind her, looking bewildered.
“The back!” she called to Smokey as she swerved around the store. Once they were safely in the shadow of the building, Patches set her pack beneath a Dumpster and ran through the delivery room.
“Ah!” Patches breathed in as Smokey followed her. “The fresh smell of frozen cow bodies!”
“Can we just get what we need?” Smokey asked.
“Okay,” Patches said. “This place sells everything, so there are no worries about not being able to find an item. Unless they’re out of stock…”
“What’s first on the list?” Smokey asked.
“Flour.”
“Let’s go then.”
“Look, there are worker clothes over there,” Patches pointed out. Smokey followed her to some folded clothes and watched as she put a weird sack over her head.
“How do I look?” Patches asked.
“Stupid.”
She frowned. “Well, they’re only short-term disguises anyway.”
Smokey sighed. “Fine.” He put one of the sacks on too, and followed Patches to a shopping cart.
“This will work splendidly,” she said, giggling evilly. She turned. Smokey was staring at her weirdly.
“Right, off we go!” She pushed the shopping cart into the store, all the while saying, “WHEEEEEE~!”
They found the flour quickly. Smokey was sitting in the shopping cart, checking off the list.
“Chocolate chip cookies, macaroni, diapers, towels, a spatula, Q-tips, veggie chocolate… Veggie chocolate? What the schnitzel is that?”
“It’s a spoon! Let’s go~”
Smokey and Patches rushed through the store in their disguises, getting everything on the list. Veggie chocolate turned out to be chocolate with extracts of different vegetables in it.
“Eww…” mumbled Smokey.
The list went on: potatoes, SPAM, roast turkey on a spit, Home and Garden magazine, Dr. Phil’s guide to weight loss, three copies of the newest Oprah magazine, a remote control, a bra (“What is this?” asked Smokey. “Oh that’s mine,” said Patches), three cans of bread, extra fatty olive oil, vegemite, and finally…
“’Leeches’?? Who wants leeches?” Smokey asked aloud.
“Dunno, probably Yellowstream,” shrugged Patches. “Let’s ask someone for that, I haven’t seen it anywhere.”
They walked up to a No-fur with green head-fur and gave him the list.
“Leeches eh?” he said. “That’s in the basement.”
“Wow, they have a basement!” Smokey hissed to Patches in a small voice as the man led them down some wooden steps.
“I don’t trust No-furs and their basements though…” Patches said in an undertone. “We’ll see how this fatty reacts.”
They proceeded to a crate.
“Well, here they are,” said the man. “Grab a plastic bag and dump ‘em in. I recommend you put on some gloves, and don’t get them on your arms!”
“Uh… thank you… Carl,” said Patches in a bad No-fur accent.
“You foreign?” Carl asked. Patches and Smokey nodded.
“Ah. Well, close the box when you’re done.” With that, he left.
“Okay, grab the leeches, let’s go,” Patches said urgently. “I almost blew our cover.”
“How much?” Smokey asked as he put on some rubber gloves.
“As many as you can fill in that bag,” Patches said. “Now MOVE!”
Smokey grabbed handfuls of the black leeches, which squirmed under his slippery paws.
“This is disgusting!” Smokey said.
“Well Black Pride eats them,” said Patches.
“Are you serious?!” said Smokey. “Disgusting!”
“Well they are known for being that way…”
Finally, the bag was filled, and Smokey dumped it into the shopping cart.
“Okay, that’s the last item. Now what?” he asked.
“We… get out of here,” Patches replied. “Head out the way we came! AHOY!”
They pushed the shopping cart back up the wooden steps, and zoomed across the store to get out. As they reached the outside of the store, angry shouts came from behind them.
“Cover’s blown, squirt,” said Patches. “Up, up, and away!”
Nothing happened. The cart kept rolling.
“Nice going, genius,” Smokey muttered.
“I said,” Patches growled, “Up, UP, AND AWAAAAY!”
A helicopter passed overhead, and a long ladder came down.
“Hey you little thieves!” a white tom cat was looking out of the copter. “Get up! Quick! Hook the cart to this!” he threw down a hook.
Patches quickly did as she was told, then climbed up the ladder. The helicopter drove them out of the parking lot and back into their forest home.
“Thanks Cloudy!” Patches said happily. “That was a close one!”
“Well, did you get my leeches?” Leafy asked grumpily.
“Jeezuuz sista!” Patches said, “of course we did! Right Smokey?”
“Right…” Smokey was feeling queasy.
Finally, the camp was visible. And so was a very large heliport.
“When’d we buy that?” Patches asked Cloudy.
“A few minutes ago,” Cloudy said. “Arrived today. Ebay.”
“Ah…” Patches paused. “What kind of idiot bought it?”
“Firefart.”
“That’s self-explanatory.”
The helicopter landed with a jolt, then every cat crowded around to see what items Patches and Smokey had gotten them.
“Where’s my box of Q-tips?!” barked a cat known only by the name Short Temper.
So like, I SHOULD finish this... but it's a weird thing to find, you know?
Neil Gaiman is the acclaimed author of fantasy and science fiction stories, some of which include Stardust, Mirrormask, The Graveyard Book, and Coraline. He as a writer, is friends with many famous people, including writer Terry Pratchett (author of Discworld), Diana Wynne Jones (author of Howl’s Moving Castle), Alan Moore (comic book author of V for Vendetta), and is even currently dating Amanda Palmer, singer of the famous “Brechtian punk cabaret” duo, The Dresden Dolls.
In 2006, a man in Iowa by the name of Christopher Handley received an express mail package from Japan that contained seven comic books. The package was intercepted by a Postal Inspector who applied for a warrant after looking through it and determining that it was illustrated child pornography, which he found as objectionable content. The police were contacted later and followed Handley to his house, where his collection of 1,200 manga books or publications, hundreds of DVDs, VHS tapes, laser discs, seven computers, and other documents were confiscated. Even if the offensive images were found only in a small handful of all the things that were confiscated, the government still prosecuted against him.
The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund had come to the aid of Mr. Handley, as well as Neil Gaiman, who objectified against the government’s actions towards the avid comic book collector.
“If you accept -- and I do -- that freedom of speech is important, then you are going to have to defend the indefensible. That means you are going to be defending the right of people to read, or to write, or to say, what you don't say or like or want said,” said Gaiman on his blog. “The Law is a huge blunt weapon that does not and will not make distinctions between what you find acceptable and what you don't. This is how the Law is made. People making art find out where the limits of free expression are by going beyond them and getting into trouble.”
Gaiman has been defended by the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund (or CBLDF for short) as well, because a Chief of Police in Jacksonville, Florida ordered a comic book shop not to sell his comic book Death Talks About Life because she thought it promoted teen sex. The legal counsel of CBLDF talked to the Jacksonville Police Department about the First Amendment, and they shut up and didn’t object any further.
Gaiman also said, “In this case you obviously have read lolicon, and I haven't. I don't know whether you're writing from personal experience here, and whether you have personally been incited to rape children or give inappropriate hugs by reading it. (I assume you haven't. I assume that Chris Handley, with his huge manga collection, wasn't either. I've read books that claimed that exposure to porn causes rape, but have seen no statistical evidence that porn causes rape -- and indeed have seen claims that the declining number of US rapes may be due to wider availability of porn. Honestly, I think it's a red herring in First Amendment matters, and I'll leave it for other people to argue about.) Still, you seem to want lolicon banned, and people prosecuted for owning it, and I don't. You ask, What makes it worth defending? and the only answer I can give is this: Freedom to write, freedom to read, freedom to own material that you believe is worth defending means you're going to have to stand up for stuff you don't believe is worth defending, even stuff you find actively distasteful, because laws are big blunt instruments that do not differentiate between what you like and what you don't, because prosecutors are humans and bear grudges and fight for re-election, because one person's obscenity is another person's art.
“Because if you don't stand up for the stuff you don't like, when they come for the stuff you do like, you've already lost.”
Lolicon or yaoi is a Japanese portmanteau of the phrase “Lolita complex”, which is a sexual attraction to younger girls by adult males, as portrayed in the book Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Lolicon comic books are more commonly known in Japan, where they originally began, and are a genre of comic books with childlike females being depicted erotically. Some critics say that lolicon contributes to actual sexual abuse of children, while others say that there is no evidence to support this, or there is evidence to the contrary. Some countries have attempted to criminalize lolicon comic books because of their sexual explicitness, pertaining to child pornography, but Canada, Australia, Ireland, New Zealand, Sweden, and the Philippines are the only countries to have actually been able to do so. This itself is enough to say that Christopher Handley, a resident of Iowa, USA, shouldn’t be charged with such a thing as this, because it is not illegal to have such possessions, and isn’t harming anyone else. Sure, it may be irksome to law enforcement officers, but since there are no actual child porn victims involved, there shouldn’t be that much of a problem.
However, in May 2009, Christopher Handley pleaded guilty of owning the said obscene lolicon graphic comic books, most likely because he couldn’t afford to keep fighting in the trial. He could face a fine of $250,000 and up to fifteen years in jail. These results are not surprising, but disappointing, because as Gaiman said in a part of his blog, people have more freedom in the United States, and according to the First Amendment, Americans have the right to freedom of speech, and just because that Postal Inspector found the item suspicious didn’t mean that he had to report it as child porn, because, as stated previously, it officially isn’t. Neil Gaiman was right in defending the matter of Christopher Handley, and had the tables turned and Handley been released, it would’ve been a sign of freedom still standing in the United States.
Bibliography:
Trexler, Jeff. “Comics, Child Porn and the Law” Blogs at Newsarama. 23 December 2008. Newsarama. 3 November 2009. <http://blog.newsarama.com/2008/12/23/comics-child-porn-and-the-law/>.
Otakureview. “The Case Against Christopher Handley” Otaku Review. 11 December 2008. Otaku Review. 3 November 2009. <http://otakureview.today.com/2008/12/11/the-case-against-christopher-handley/>.
“Censorship” Wikipedia. 30 October 2009. Wikimedia Foundation Inc. 3 November 2009. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Censorship>.
Vineyard, Jennifer. “Neil Gaiman on the ‘obscenity’ of Manga Collector Christopher Handley’s Trial” Splashpage MTV. 24 November 2008. MTV. 3 November 2009. <http://splashpage.mtv.com/2008/11/24/neil-gaiman-on-the-obscenity-of-manga-collector-christopher-handleys-trial/>.
Gaiman, Neil. “Why defend freedom of icky speech?” Neil Gaiman. 1 December 2008. Harper Collins Publishers. 3 November 2009. <http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2008/12/why-defend-freedom-of-icky-speech.html>.
“Lolicon” Wikipedia. 24 October 2009. Wikimedia Foundation Inc. 3 November 2009. < http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lolicon>.
"I'm sleeping next to a deranged individual called Vern Blackadder, who looks slightly brain damaged. He also has the nasty habit of pulling out large clumps of his own hair with a loud thunk."I lie in bed listening to assorted snores and mutterings, the odd thunk of Vern's hair being ripped out, and the never-ending trickle of Pissing Pete (the concrete statue of St. Peter), who stands proudly in the fish pond in the quadrangle with water dribbling out of his sword." ~ Van de Ruit, pg. 7
Vern is a very peculiar individual indeed. He later befriends a Siamese named Roger, who is cared for by Sparerib, nickname for Mr. Wilson, the Housemaster. Mr. Wilson has his own seven commandments, which are as follows:
"He announced his seven commandments with a flourish of his cane:
1. Thou shalt not disobey those in authority.
2. Thou shalt not behave in a depraved fashion.
3. Thou shalt not tease my cat. (This is apparently a Siamese called Roger.)
4. Thou shalt not waste toilet paper
5. Thou shalt not play with yourself (or others) after lights-out
6. Thou shalt not go night swimming.
7. Thou shalt not play darts (a bit strange considering the lack of a dartboard)." ~ Van de Ruit, pg. 10"
I am pretty much in love with this novel by now, and according to the jacket, it says there is a sequel. I am oh so intrigued.
As a side note, Spud's grandmother's name is Wombat.
Flashbulb memories are highly detailed, exceptionally vivid 'snapshots' of the moment and circumstances in which surprising and consequential (or emotionally arousing) news was heard. Flashbulb memories have six characteristic features: place, ongoing activity, informant, own affect, other affect, and aftermath. Flashbulb memories are believed to be highly resistant to forgetting. Arguably, the principal determinants of a flashbulb memory are a high level of surprise, a high level of consequentiality, or perhaps emotional arousal. Flashbulb memory is an appropriate name for the phenomenon in that it suggests surprise, an indiscriminate illumination, and brevity. The name is inappropriate, however, in that an actual photograph, taken by flashbulb, is indiscriminate and preserves everything within its scope. Flashbulb memories, in actuality, are only somewhat indiscriminate and are far from complete.
Yes, interesting indeed? Well to me it is. Argue if you must!
So to start off, I read this...:
I am gay and married to an incredible man. We just adopted a six year old girl. Today, a woman called us a disgrace. Our daughter bravely looked at the woman, and said, "Nuh-uh! My daddies are the best ever, and there isn't anything wrong with them!"
"The thing about 9/11 is that it's kind of like an artwork in its own right. It was wicked, but it was devised in this way for this kind of impact. It was devised visually... You've got to hand it to them on some level because they've achieved something which nobody would have ever have thought possible, especially to a country as big as America. So on one level they kind of need congratulating, which a lot of people shy away from, which is a very dangerous thing."
"I apologise unreservedly for any upset I have caused, particularly to the families of the victims of the events on that terrible day."
He was born in Columbus, OH, and now lives, with his wife and two sons, outside Washington, DC by way of Pittsburgh, PA, Phoenix, AZ, London, UK, Brooklyn, NY, and Seattle, WA. He swears he is staying put for awhile."
Okay, nine fingers... well... that's something I didn't know until now, ha, ha. The highly prized blood can certainly come in handy if he's luring in vampire-wannabes in his new novel, but let's hope that he isn't. The Twilight craze has gone so far that people are now writing vampire novels to catch the attention of hordes of teenage girls (Some my age. This just upsets me).
Being the reader that I am, yes, I have read Twilight and all its sequels, though I would like to point out that I read the dreaded romance novel in 2006, and its sequels soon after, my last purchase being Breaking Dawn when it was released in (was it) 2008. I've only watched the movies to compare it to the books, but honestly, the craze is just too much. So I'm no screaming 'Twihard'. I'm just a fan of the books, though I haven't purchased anything by Stephenie Meyer since my purchase of Breaking Dawn.
Back to Struts & Frets! Lost track for a moment there...
So in this novel, Sammy, who is seventeen as I remember, is having trouble with his band, Tragedy of Wisdom (He wanted it as Tragedy of Reason, but the band's singer, Joe, is not someone to mess with. What he says goes.), and he's thinking about whether to enter them in a Battle of the Bands competition that a local radio station is hosting. The winner will get a song recorded and played on the radio station it seems, which would make it great for the publicity of Tragedy of Wisdom. Joe forces Sammy into it when he's still skeptical, and his other band-mates Rick (crappy bass player) and TJ (brilliant drummer) have nothing to do except to follow Joe.
Sammy (guitarist and lyricist) is upset over this, and also for other conflicts, which include his best friend Jen5 having a crush on him, and his grandfather, who seems to be getting mentally ill.
Sammy and Jen5 (getting her name because there were five other Jennifer's in her class and they all chose names like 'Jenny', 'Jen', etc., that the last possible nickname would've been something like 'Niffer', so the last Jennifer chose Jen5) are also being pushed around by their parents about what they'll do when they grow older-- Jen5's mother isn't supportive of her decision to be an artist, and Sammy's mother doesn't want him to become a musician.
This book is funny, often sexual in language, and adventurous. It's a great coming-of-age book, and for people who love music, well, this is for you.
The music backdrop for this book is mostly Indie rock, and a song list is even at the end of the book, noting such bands as Modest Mouse, The Pixies, The Jesus and Mary Chain, and Death Cab for Cutie. The book is stated as "art based", and that is how the cover and chapter pages look, making it look like it was made just for teens.
Read the book, see how you like it, and argue with me if you must. I thought it was quite awesome.
You can find Jon Skovron here.
