11 Reasons Why Game of Thrones with Animaniacs Characters would be a good idea.

Reason number one: The zany wacky loony world of Animaniacs is a perfect juxtaposition against the brutal and harsh world of Game of Thrones. Both are fantastic in different ways and although ice cream and pizza might be an odd combination of two excellent things I’d say this is more a Nutella-PB&J…with a side of orange spice snaps and salmon crabs stuffed with nuggets of caramel and Pentos apple taffy kind of idea. It’s good trust me on this.Such stark opposites could only get along.

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Reason number two: Animaniacs ended  on the air in 1998 meaning that anyone who was alive when this show was running is now over 18 years old (if you didn’t feel old already), yeah only adults can remember watching Animaniacs on the WB, if there was ever a reason to make more adult humor* about the universe, this is it. Game of thrones is ripe for a parody with giant sledge hammers, bulging surprise eyes, and zig-zaggy tongues just as much as Animaniacs could be ready for horrid violence and medieval political intrigue if it was done right. Imagine the reactions can happen when the white walkers show up. Without a doubt mixing the two things would have to be done carefully so as not to make Animaniacs needlessly violent and still retain the cold steel of realism that GoT has.  .

Reason number Three:

goodideabadidea

Narrator: “It’s time once again for another good idea, bad idea”

Narrator: “Good idea…”

[We see the mannequin resembling Ned Stark/Sean Bean in the tower of the hand’s solarium pawning over the book of lineages]

Narrator: “…Discovering the dark secret behind Jon Arryn’s murder…”

[Fade to black and then show Bad Idea title]

Narrator: “…Bad Idea…”

[Open to Stark/Bean mannequin confronting Slappy Squirrel as Cerci Lannister. Cerci folds her arms.]

Narrator: “Telling the one who murdered John Arryn that you figured out their dark secret.”

[Fade to black with drum roll]

[Open to  the Great Sept of Baelor in King’s Landing, we see the stage from the  far crowd where Slappy/Cerci stands with the high members of the court, Skippy/ Joffery orders Illan Payne forth, Stark/Bean Mannequin kneels before being beheaded**.]

[Show end title]

Narrator: “The End”

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Reason number Four: I already have the lyrics for the opening theme, if you need to refresh your memory this is the original.  The one thing you have to force is the “game of” into one syllable for all but the first chorus, but I’m not claiming that I’m a perfect lyricist. This also assumes that you go with the Animaniacs opening theme as opposed to the Game of Thrones one.

“It’s Game of Animaniacs,
and it’s zany to the max,
so get your sword and your axe,
which house will die off last?
Game of Animaniacs.

 

Come join the stark children,
and their stark sibling Dot,
Just for fun they run around Westeros a lot.
They throw them out the moon door,
Whenever they get caught,
but your favorite ones will lose their heads and now you know the plot.

 

Game of Animaniacs,
Sansa’s cute and Robb’s got class,
Jon’s a bastard of his dad, Bran won’t ever walk again,
Game of Animaniacs.

 

Meet Tyrion and Bronn who want to learn and make a purse,
Ned and Robert stick together, Cerci sends them to the Herse***,
Jorah chases Danni,
While Arrie sings a verse,
The writing’s fucked I’ve given up on who’s bad and who is worse,

 

Game of Animaniacs,
Brutality and flay-ing flesh,
Atrocities begin to mesh,
It’s fake folklore at its best,
It’s Animany,
Totally Insaney,
(More than a little Derangey,)

Game of anamaney-acs

You can-not go back.

donk.

 Reason Number Five:…I don’t have too much time on my hands and am a rational human being like you.

 Reason Number six: Imagine The Brain as Tyrion Lannister. Yeah. The Brain as Orson Wells as Tyrion Lannister walking around Westeros with an armored and deadly mercenary Pinkey. Tell me that’d not be fantastic and you’re spittle will dry in your mouth because I’ve poisoned your wine with “The strangler” for your heresy.

Joffrey_envenenado_HBO

This is you. This is what you get.

Reason Number Seven: Mindy as Dennarys Targaryan and Buttons as Jorah Mormont

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Of all the Animaniacs shorts the Mindy/Buttons ones were my least favorite, it was a pretty drawn out ten minutes of the blissfully unaware innocent who narrowly avoids certain demise while an equally innocent takes all the hits cleshe of slapstick comedy (I ended up just feeling bad for Buttons). However, make Jorah Mormont a cartoon dog dedicated to pledging his life to an Idealistic Mindy who has the power of three Dragons and an army of freed slaves? I don’t care what happens that is pure gold.
Also this can happen at Astopor:

Dovaogēdys! Āeksia ossēnātās, menti ossēnātās, qilōni pilos lue vale tolvie ossēnātās, yn riñe dōre ōdrikātās. Urnet luo buzdaro tolvio belma pryjātās! Okay I love you Buhbye!”

[slave master is emulated by dragon fire]

Reason Number Eight: Rita as the murderous Arya Stark and Runt as the even more murderous Sandor Clegane. It’s a musical romp from the Riverlands to the twins and then back south to the Eyrie surrounded by the deaths of many villagers, bandits, and coincidental relatives. You will see such hits as
I put needle in your throat and now you can gurgle while I gloat.
and
Merrin Fucking Trent!” <<this conversation as a song, between these characters:

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Reason number nine: Dot would be a good Arya too…maybe once she gets out of westeros and handles that…face temple.

Ten: Wakko as Bran, maybe his warg powers turns the animals into a kind of Elvis impersonation. Who wouldn’t want to see Hodor sing blue suede shoes? I’m sure he knows all the lyrics.

Eleven: umm… Yakko using his cartoon invincibility and willy tricks to turn the red wedding into a kind of Scooby doo chase scene….

Anyway I’m losing steam with this*****, what with the wine, and the tiredness. It’s like 3 AM.

Comment if you have any ideas, if you are an animator steal mine ….I just want it to exist.

Footnotes:
* I realize that Animaniacs has a lot of adult humor already, but maybe just pushing the line a bit farther could be warranted. Or we could just leave it unspoiled.

**oh yeah SPOILERS!! That was season one/ book one stuff that was probably already ruined for you between now and 5 or 20 years ago. Also my theory is Jon is a Warg and is now living as his dyrewolf Ghost which is a cool prospect.

***Ohhh more stuff that had more than two decades of common knowledge****

****I’m pretty sure the majority of people don’t care about GoT/SOIAF spoilers anymore…I just wanted to be edgy… L

*****There are too many characters in GoT for it to match up perfectly but It would be good as just short snippits.

Okay I love you Buhbye!

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Good & Evil Rush tomorrow

So for a while I’ve been working on this comic, It involves two foxes who may or may not be representing Yin and Yang as they try to deal with themselves and the world around them in parallel adventures.

The vast majority is not online but I do have a website where I plan to rectify that: http://goodevilcomic.com/

Tomorrow from 4:00pm to some time later (eastern US time) I’m going to be uploading a new page every half hour. If you would like to see it from the beginning here’s the link: http://goodevilcomic.com/comic/good-evil-chapter-1-title/

If you enjoy my writing, this comic is little more than a visual story, and I mean that because you need to have an open mind when looking at my drawings 😛

If you like Consider Subtlety please also follow Good and Evil. You wont be disappointed.

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Activity Update

I salute you. Thanks to all my followers and readers, you are great!

poster

So, For those of you who have been waiting for more Sci Fi fox or Good & Evil, I should not, but I must make the same unfortunate excuse as anyone who makes comics, that it takes a while. Since I’m not much in the way of drawing, It’s not that I’m working on one page for all this time, but I hope to put up many pages at once at once rather than keep the story so segmented for both. Issue 2 of G & E will be done soon. It’s a couple pages longer, But I will reboot the past issue with it.

Anyway, if you like my writing at all, please don’t hesitate to let me know. If you don’t like my writing, well, no one asked you. If you don’t have the attention span to read, then I guess I can only blame you for being uncultured swine. Since the majority of people rarely read past the first sentence, this is kind of an inside joke right now between you and me (hehe).
I made this poster, more comics will be soon, for now I leave you with space police:

 

 

The company of cats.

All in all I’d say that I enjoy the company of animals over that of humanity. Specifically cats, and if the mood strikes me I rather enjoy birds for a time. Yet rarely do these two coincide, for one tries to be free of all things that tether it to the earth while the other takes pleasure in the killing it’s prey. It is odd, because in that regard, the birds, always are searching and neurotically pronouncing their freedom, are never as free as the cat. In fact I must say that at this moment I’ve made the decision that the company of cats is probably the best company to keep.

Dogs depend on one another, and depend on surviving in an order to which they are loyal and happily in a degree of subservience. I might add that there may not be anything wrong with being content in subservience, only as long as one has their dignity in accepting their place. I have never known or met a cat that would be so dependable. I would rely on a dog to fight with me, and only rely on a cat if in the best terms, and even then cats can hold such a state of aloof ambivalence that they are unpredictable in their true convictions. Dogs are never as free as cats because they are bound by an order. A lone feral dog does not usually do well for itself. Always they are looking for that but cannot find. They carry a chip on their shoulder and burn out like a star after their life of skulking and killing gets to them.

Cats exist in this world knowing that they are alone from the getgo. They exist to serve their desires and maintain a confidence in that their decisions are what keeps them alive. Yet this solidarity does not mean that they do not enjoy the pleasures of their own. Cats find the regular opportunities to make love in a way humans endlessly fail at grasping.

The only comparable creature who might be as free and with very interesting romantic inclinations is that of the Fox. The fox has a long courtship by comparison to the other two species where they chase each other around with their little games until a conclusion is reached, they both win, and they raise their children together. They do this every year or so with various partners or the same, which is a very civilized system. It is in the fox that one sees the energy and dumb love of the dog, and the aloof smirk of the cat. Alas, foxes are bandits and thrive on having their games to play. If they aren’t outsmarting someone, they are likely being hopelessly outsmarted. When that happens they die.

Instead of getting caught up in this game or that, the Cat will ignore the game and just take the reward. Once they do get caught up, they know they are useless.

You have to relate the existence of all creatures to that of their relativity to humanity, and in the case of the Fox, they are a pest and killed with little remorse. The Dog holds the exalted place of “Man’s best friend” and will  lie under the table, happy with scraps. Yet the cat, the cat can exist in both worlds. It is a place that mythology once gave the Fox because of their nature to be seen at dusk, the worlds of night and day. Yet more fitting in this dominated world, the true shape-shifter is the cat.

That is why I find myself so alike the cat.

 

The finest part of living with creatures overall is that there are no words. No ugly, in the way-tangle-in-your-mouth words. All words do is mangle how people feel, what is true, and what is not. For instance, if you asked a cat which religion has the true god, he would look at you only with confusion. If you asked a cat how to tell a woman you love her, he would have no earthly idea what you mean. Even if they did talk, the notion of feeling things while not feeling them at the moment, is absurd and an impossible craft to attempt. All there is, is feeling and action. You are given the tools to survive in your hands er…paws, and you take what you can from the world that put you here.

It’s much easier for a cat to do this, because they have no laws. It begs the question of how many cats actually get away with murder.
I woke up Thursday on the dashboard of a derelict van. The sun that beamed through the windscreen was extraordinarily hot and I abandoned sleeping longer. Peering out from my van I saw that it was a bright day with a clear blue sky  beyond the piles of smashed up cars. Over the distant skyline. I wandered for a while through the junkyard, and found nothing of interest. I decided that perhaps I should return to my apartment. I began feeling like I was losing touch again with society.

I made my way through the chain fence of the junkyard and down the alley to a clothing store. Inside I changed and left with a clean black suit. I did not pay for it, but I would return at some other time. The clerk had not even seen me enter or leave so it was as if I was never there. She was half asleep reading a catalog with a big bubble of chewing gum during both events.

I recalled the smell of cigarettes from the cafe across the street, and politely asked for one. The man was with his girlfriend of some kind and did not want to seem stingy or uncharitable. He gave me one to that effect and lit it for me. I thanked him on his charity and he said to think nothing of it. His girlfriend, politely waited for me to leave before talking. The man smiled proudly as I left, he really just wanted to look as frivolous as possible to compensate for the little money he had. I knew this shortly because the wallet I took from his breast pocket had barely enough to catch a train downtown.

I supposed it could not be helped. He probably was going to feign something about not having his wallet with him anyway once the check came.

I puffed the cigarette as I walked. looking up at the street signs. the cars honking and flying down the road. People passed me as I walked. In such a hurry! It is amazing how such a species could dominate the world and only succeed in making life harder for themselves. To make time this special commodity when time is an impossible thing to save up for or create. To whoever is making a profit off of all this, I tip my hat.

I turned the corner at the first street I recognized as intersecting near the train station. Letting out a drag I was immediately distracted when I saw this creature strolling ahead of me. She wore a white dress with a black band around her waist. her collar was tinged with black, and she had a straw hat turned to the side. I must admit however, I could not take my eyes off that lythe form. The white dress outlined her figure so well in the sunshine. One aspect of her anatomy was extenuated by the black band around her waist.

I shook myself from my head, and was overcome with an irresistible urge. I ran after her and put my hand on her shoulder.

“Hello” I said coolly.

She stopped and looked at me, Her big green eyes in the center of a wonderful face. She looked down at my hand.

“h-hello?”

“You know I have an apartment we could go to.”

“GET OFF OF ME!” She said and swung her black gloved fist into my jaw. I fell to the ground, and she stormed off.

 

I took time before I pulled myself up, collected the cigarette that fell from my mouth and watched her confidently pump down the street. Onlookers giggled at me.

 

As I walked towards the train station, I realized that my fresh bruise, new suit, and brown leather wallet, were all proofs that I had indeed spent too much time in the company of cats.

Arrie the Kitsune

1
Twas back in time of woe-sung rhyme
That one of the fox-folk, Arrie so named,
Did from the high mountains so wooded in rime
Came down to the lands of men to play games

At forest’s edge she went in disguise
Where the trees and fields make their meet
A glint of mischief she held in her eyes
For a trick or love to toy she did seek

Through fields she set off like wind through rushes
Arrived at the road near fall of night’s cowl
Feared not she be looked on, such is,
Silver moonbeams never treat he so fowl

How eyes do trick in the night’s light
None could be wiser to the maiden’s sight
2
The waving grain made a windy part
Silent footfall upon dry crumbled husk
Gust of wind rustled the tarp of a cart
The driver admired the cooling dusk

Enjoying the sounds of his wagon’s creaks
Wound down the road this village merchant took
As the way ribboned its way to the east
Never a rearward glance he took to look

Saw the heaps of thatch rise from yonder hill
Little known to his passenger’s fine feast
The little demon took up her fill
Enjoyed his shipment of fine meats

So filled with prospects of his new venture
Heeded not the puzzling sound of laughter

3
To the warm light of street shops she crept
And snatched up a dress remaining unseen
Unwatched by the throng she needn’t repent
Placed it on neat by two buildings between
Yet then by eye a luminent gleam
With a gander across from alleyway nook
She lent on the corner to gather the scene
Orbs of orange marched like embered brook
Demons masked in festive preen, lanterns took
Like painted pagans the townsfolk danced free
Music weaved sateen through the crowds they shook
Arrie smiled at the mirth she did see
“What curious sight” thought the kitsune

4
Needn’t she fear the scrutning eyes of men
guise she dropped taking on her true form
danced among the music seen as a friend
Intoxicating dew, firelight warm

Around the great blazes they sung their sounds
Of all mischief Arrie seemed to forget
Mask among mask pounded foot against ground
One foxian face shown through bare, there yet

Food and stories the reveled folk shared
Returned with steps of tumultuous laugh
Though some thought her tales were quite rare
Not one had guessed from where she made her path

With jokes and wit told here and there, Arrie did not fail
And she smirked at the compliments on the craft of her tail
5
The festival reeved with a drunken muse
Lines hand in hand ran through the streets
Salty snapping meats running with juice
Smiling eyes to joyous tambourine beats

Arrie drank nearly the whole of a cask
Witnessed’ agape with curiosity
How easy for her to drink through her mask
And wipe her mouth with ferocity

In the midst of the mirth then caught surprise
The watchful eyes of a man clad in grace
To show under her mask he asked for comply
And wished he to set upon her true face

Pulled from her daze she turned her back to him
And re-turned with a kindly illusion
6
Visage of a stunning woman she passed
With hair of black and eyes of icy blue
Her form seen kindly subtle, now while masked
Eyes met Gazing, dizzy warmth flutter flew

His face was less than fair as fair may be
held something yet behind those auburn eyes
resisted strange gravity, held she to see
her mind had set work on him with apprise

Asked he then with an outstretched steady hand
To join him in the last festive dance
Arrie the demon could not understand
How this mortal could put her in a trance

With the flutes rising she took the offer
Swept in the masquerade to his proffer
7
Knowing no dance, his guide was her portal
Lively the veiled casted their costumes aside
In bacchius haze she danced with the mortal
Less known her the truth to be descried

To his arms she fell, and he did embrace
The music background seemed to fall fell
In soft current of their step, all erased
Warmth of touch driving unholy impel

With eyes that betrayed, she looked upon him
An earnest presence returned his graces
Desire takes aside all forethought whim
In the eternity of meeting faces

Replaced with a whim of desire sore missed
Did in the harvest, the lord and the demon kiss
8
Be what be and be what may be said
What kindled with the thicket fires
That in her tale when awoke so fed
And lived new where lived her desires

Sprang to realize what desires displaced
Fled she away in the morning hours
Gone she was, never more a trace
Far to where lived her old powers

And when awoke he to empty sight
Recalling what in night he had seen
Startled struck with a sudden fright
And pondered nothing more than a dream

When the night winds swift  to daylight’s break
Not one sees the fox’s flight as they wake

Years are Dishes

There was nothing more comforting then when I would return home from work and see her washing dishes. Sometimes I would have the day off or she would be the one to return home after me, but after we made dinner she would always go to that place by the sink after the meal. She wouldn’t say a word, she would just begin the task as if it were a meditation. The water flowing across the dishes and her hands busy in the suds across the smooth porcelain. I would help her dry, stand next to her and put things away, but I could never take my eyes off of her there, her eyes down on the task. Content with her apron on to keep her outfit from getting wet, tied in a nice bow on the small of her back.

I could have watched her for hours if we ever made enough dirty dishes. But the moments would usually never be too long. I could feel myself, as I wiped each dish,  gravitate closer. It was intoxicating to see her cool brown lips, her tan skin, her curves and her black hair. I wanted to be able to reach into her head and feel the thoughts she had, sense what she was thinking and lounge in whatever wanderings her brain took her.

I would move closer to the sink, dry with an impulsory motion and place dish on dish with a lightness that pervaded all other tasks of the day. Eventually, the hollow warmth that would fill my stomach, chest, and diaphragm would grow. When I felt the soft skin under her sleeve brush against mine, the curvature of her hip nestle with mine. I still could not look away, but she would be set unmoving on her task. Perhaps a smile would grace those sacred lips from some joke or story from another time and place.

I was there, she knew it, but she would perform the task as if I was not. It only streamlined my desire for her.

And as she handed me the last dish I could dry, I would do so and step behind her. Hold her in my arms, feel her form in sinc with mine, her hips, and curves, yet her mind just beyond my reach. She would always giggle and shiver with excitement and warmth. I would smile and coo before finding myself kissing her cheek from behind, her neck, her shoulder. And while I did that, I could tell she smiled, I could tell she waited for this, I could tell that this was her favorite part of the day, because it was mine, and we were one in that moment.

And yet she would keep washing. Her hands in the suds, the motion of her shoulders between mine.

She still would be silent, smile and even sigh at times. I would be unable to contain myself in those moments, the curse of my body in her presence. But a blessing for those moments together.

And when she turned around. Dear God.

Now after all this time…I can still close my eyes and feel…

I can feel the physical youth of it, but, sometimes I hear things, I feel the silent. “I love you”, “Stay with me”, “never leave” “where have you been?” “I’m scared” “hold me closer” “why has it been so long?” “Who am I?” “Why is life so short?” “Who are you?” “How did we find each other?”

All the words that could not be said or heard in those times come to me with clarity. Like mortar to fill the cracks between us it was not words that bound us, but…dishes.

It makes my breath draw like a cold spring.