Super Rainbow Motherfucker
It's an absolutely ordinary rainbow, a surprise from Konami, and both Amen and Hallelujah.
If you aren’t familiar with, nor can you decrypt the exact parameters that might define a Fuggler or delineate it from a Labubu, then I cannot help you. It is simultaneously true that you are safe and I am in fact the one that requires saving. The former of these lifeforms are breeding like quintuply cursed rabbids ‘round our house at present and the situation feels increasingly untethered from any kind of controlled descent into The Chaotic Realms. I can’t even blame it on a usual suspect either because I am entirely to blame and I was totally blindsided by the insane dental factor, specifically where it intersects with the fluff factor. If they weren’t such…unique beauties, they might even be cute and the reverse is a balanced hypothesis.
People talk a lot (and for good reason) about the big changes that sobriety can bring to a person’s life and they’re not wrong. It can change your life and life can be pretty damn good on the daily. Understand me: I’m not saying that sobriety itself is easy. Not in a hundred-thousand years. Sobriety can be hard, really hard and it requires being ready or becoming ready for a change but as an old friend of mine is wont to say, we find our own level and we choose our own hard. What can be easy, is making the decision that this is something one might want for themselves but I don’t think it’s necessarily for the big reasons that you might do it or see apparent in your life, particularly in the all-important immediate reality of a person who may or may not be an addict or have an addictive personality.
It’s in the little things, those little luxuries that suddenly aren’t affordable when you have a monkey on your back
It’s in the small spaces that are created by a clearer mind (and yes, a far less abused, more available bank balance) where you begin to find space to be present and really live, rather than just piling through each day in survival mode. I have found this to be the truth. It’s in the little things, those little luxuries that suddenly aren’t affordable when you have a monkey on your back: Candles, fresh bars of soap, extra treats for the cat, an impulse toy for the child, a range of rainy day canned soups in the kitchen cupboard, one new coffee mug, a pair of vests, shoe polish, good ground coffee, and a packet of madeleines. Any one of these alone could be a great reason to get out of bed without a hangover. In concert with the big stuff? It’s an absolutely ordinary rainbow.
It’s also in the stupid stuff, like not sweating about dropping a cold, hard twenty on Konami’s incredible birthday present to everyone who’s birthday it both is and is not. I have supernaturally vivid memories of playing Wario Blast on the original grey Gameboy and yes, I’m that far decayed but no, that game is not on here. While this is a shame, we are still showered in an embarrasment of shadow-dropped riches with this incredibly nostalgic offering. That’s not to imply in any way that ‘Super Bomberman Collection’ is merely Member Berries, without substance or chops and I would go to lengths to have you and/or anyone else but especially Mr. Rigot have that fixed firmly in your Emersonian mind.
There are…a lot of Bombermens on here and the gameplay is tight enough to stand up to a battering with one through three friends in tow, despite there being an own goal’s omission of online multiplayer? I can’t really bring myself to complain and burned…a portion of time yesterday evening when I definitely should have been abed. That second game has teeth and the Makers hath thrown in a bunch of courtesy quality of life options too, including both an extremely welcome yet entirely period incorrect save utility? I do feel like something is lost in the absence of keeping notes/continue codes and having to type them in, although I believe you can absolutely do that if you’re a total sicko and require the congruity of inconvenience.
I could feel the dust shedding from my skin like so many grains of parched, ancient sand in the process
There is also a totally unnecessary albeit utterly essential option for scan lines. She asked me why the screen was funny and I had to explain about life in another dimension that occurred a whole lifetime before the one that we inhabit now and I could feel the dust shedding from my skin like so many grains of parched, ancient sand in the process. I’m not sure if she is yet capable of understanding why I insisted the lines were left on but she did appreciate that it looked different and might even have been cool? Maybe. Well, I thought it was cool and at this stage, she is unlikely to disagree with me and I’m gonna ride that wave while it lasts, for sure, preferably in a house boat with snacks.
The rad little manuals the developers have included alongside the 3D renderings of their respective carts was another story entirely and they were all fully dissected and assimilated, in curious and ravenous fashion. In a parallel universe, this may have counted as a passable weekend stand-in for a bedtime story. Hmm. That the funny lines are also an artefact in the same way that this distinct literature is an artefact from a different time might be something that seeps into awareness over time, akin to osmosis or something else that seeps. Either way, we had a blast with the thing and I suspect that this ends up in current rotation with Kart and Party, at least until Wonder hits next month…
I was on the hunt for something new the other night or at least new for me and boy, did I find it. ‘Motherfucker, I am Both: “Amen” and “Hallelujah”...’ from Shearling is…not what you think it’s going to be based on the first full four minutes of what could be either a very long song or an album with few discernible breaks. The term avant-garde gets thrown around a tonne with stuff like this but I feel like if ever there was a time to be apt, it’s now and it’s with this. To be reductive, I get weird (in the best kind of way) Jesus Lizard but what if that band was a one man show and what if it was actually the opera vibes?
it wouldn’t normally be my bag except for the fact that I am honour bound to respect this degree of passion
He’s been pretty open about the harrowing inspiration behind this and you can go out there and find interviews if you’re interested but if you want to go in cold and buckle in for a performance, brace your good self. It’s one-hundred percent not easy listening in any sense of the word and it wouldn’t normally be my bag except for the fact that I am honour bound to respect this degree of passion and level of dedication to the form and to the evident self in such a piece of work. It’s the kind of meaningfully credible art that speaks to an inherently cult quality, the kind of which might be spoken of in dank basements years hence.
JD out.