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calleo-bricriu · 5 years

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All right, all right, I’m less annoyed with the book now to properly explain why I was so annoyed with it earlier.

This one. This book.

I kept skimming and had to pick up again when they stopped rambling about how Mizpra's behaviour isn't her fault and Bald and Bell both had this, "You tell him, no, YOU tell him!" exchange of looks.

Leigh's response is, "Oh, out with it Bald; nothing would disturb me now."

Now, this is either going to be as disappointing as the rest of this allegedly shocking book or the author is finally going to drum up something that's at least a little unsettling. Either way, it’s been the only use of actual foreshadowing the author has used so far.

This time, it's about Leigh's sister Marcia. The one who kept disrobing and yelling about Catholics and ran off with a "big Swede" a few chapters back.

Bald's first order of business was to find Marcia as part of the "wreck Leigh's life" plot.

...and we learn very little new about her; she's still a morphine addict and still an alcoholic and is going to be sent to a private asylum.

While the author is describing them going through the more questionable areas of New York City, the phrase "irresponsible pervert" came up and that is honestly one of the funniest things I've read in this entire book; I'd like to know what the responsible ones are like now.

Anyway, it took 21 chapters of boredom and very little plot to finally get to the one part that's allegedly shocking; my bar has been low for this entire book because, at best, it's been annoying and incorrect between the boring parts where the author--sorry, Leigh--goes on and on and on about how brilliant he is at everything.

So! What's the big, shocking, twisted, horrifying reveal?

Marcia "raised H----- yesterday at the funeral of a girl's kid". I like how Hell was censored, and with a number of unnecessary dashes to censor it; it's four letters, it doesn't need six dashes. Anyway, let's see what, exactly, Leigh's sister Marcia did at a kid's funeral to finally go from, "Whatever, she's just an addict" to "Okay, to the asylum you go."

Jimmy, "the weak-faced young man who was reading the paper", has been called over to explain what happened.

Great, the author is writing Jimmy's accent. So, Marcia got 'kid crazy' a few days ago and brought a "poisoned-eyed, hump-back thing" to her room and made the kid sit on a...throne...and wouldn't let anyone do anything until they bowed before the kid. Even Leigh has no idea what the hell Jimmy is talking about, so that makes two of us.

Thankfully, Leigh is in the story and can ask for some clarification.

Okay so, Marcia is known as the "Queen" which basically means she's the prostitute that makes the most money so she gets to boss everyone around as she pays them as well. And she has a throne in her room. Weird, but okay.

Whatever she did made the morning paper and Jimmy is amazed they hadn't read it, so he went and got a copy.

All right, here we go.

((Nothing I find shocking in here but, for others, there’s a child death and some pretty inappropriate but not illegal behavior at the funeral for said child.))

"One of the most disgraceful affairs that ever occurred in this city was the funeral yesterday of little James Webb, the supposed son of the notorious Marcia Newcomber, or Andersen, as she calls herself. The services were held at a resort conducted by Fanny Bennett, No. 427 ---- Street.

The alleged mother was found by her acquaintances carrying on pornographic orgies over the little boy's deceased body."

Um.

"The body was taken to the ---- Street house Monday night, and a wake was held. It was a drunken debauch of the lowest order, and the presence of the dead had not the slightest effect.

It is said that beer was even poured on the face of the corpse in an effort to get it between the thin, drawn lips, and other shocking revelries were indulged in."

Uh huh.

Two things come to mind here:

1) This was the most shocking thing the author could come up with, otherwise we'd have had more description of the other "shocking revelries".

2) What did anyone think trying to pour alcohol into a corpse's mouth--any corpse, really--would accomplish? This is the sort of thing you write when you're nearly to the end of a book you've titled The Perverts and you realise you haven't really come up with a single shocking or perverted thing and you just sort of go with the first combination of things that might be one of those two options and hope it gets more than an eye roll.

But, okay, I'll be fair, the article isn't over yet.

The rest of it was just people being drunk and swearing at a funeral. That's the most normal part of it.

The pallbearers were drunk and just about dropped the casket more than once which is supposed to be shocking but only sort of made me laugh a bit.

And that part was the last straw for the Minister, not--everything before it. Drunken orgies on top of a dead kid's casket, trying to pour alcohol down the corpse's throat, joking and carrying on and being drunken idiots at the actual service, swearing, showing up high AND drunk, that's all fine, but drunk pallbearers who nearly drop the casket?

Well, that's just unacceptable! That was the Minister’s last straw, not all the other stuff. Minister’s got a high threshold for putting up with nonsense.

The funeral party stopped at several pubs along the way to drink more and at this point it's just sounding like a New York rendition of The Night Paddy Murphy Died, only a slightly stranger.

They get to the cemetery, all completely trashed, Marcia falls over and just sort of lays on the ground screaming, tried repeatedly to jump into the open grave until she was threatened with arrest at which point someone thought it might be a good idea to get her out of there and--the author felt the need to also note in the article that "the women lost their bonnets and cloaks".

Oh no. Not their bonnets and cloaks. What a tragedy.

Then they all started drinking again and the police were called and Leigh finally stopped reading.

OH! OH!!! At the end of the article though, there's an author's note: "This affair was witnessed by the author; and the account is taken verbatim et literatim from the newspaper description. Only names are changed in this account. -- W. H. L."

I feel like he just made that up but, hey, reality can be weird on occasion. Bet if it did happen there's an archive of it somewhere--but, spoiler, I checked. I checked every single paper printed in New York City between roughly the time the author was born and the end of 1901 and there is no record of any even remotely similar event; so, he essentially went with, “This totally happened, you can believe me,” and didn’t bank on anyone doing a fact check on a work of fiction but--if you’re going to interrupt your own terrible fiction story to say, “Okay but THIS part is true! I saw it myself and this is the literal newspaper story, I just changed the names,” I’m going to fact check it and I don’t actually care that it’s been 90 years.

Anyway, back to the chapter, Leigh is understandably a bit shocked and upset by this but that's a pretty fair reaction considering it’s his sister that went off the rails there.

For once he doesn’t have ten pages of pretending he’s a grand philosopher for us, he just kind of sits there stunned like a normal person would be.

So, uh, that was chapter 21.

#if that's the most shocking thing I'm going to read in this book I'm going to be very annoyed #because there are fewer than 100 pages left now #books #fiction #hp rp #child death cw #death cw #funeral guests behaving badly

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lordraveondagooseofdolallytap · 4 years

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State of Emergency

authorship of this work

David Kitchen 27th March 2010

State of Emergency

Saturday 14th June 1986.

The suburb of Rosebank in Johannesburg, South Africa.

It was on Radio 702 News, the second item after the declaration of a State of Emergency. Ryan heard it whilst making dinner for the kids.

He was at the kitchen stove in the small brick and corrugated-iron bungalow that came with his nursing job at the hospital. The radio as always his company. The newsreader told how a young mother had been backing the families Combi out the driveway of her home in Rosebank. Her three-year-old was in the back. The men had stepped out from behind a hedge and fired twice into the woman head through the open driver’s window. They pulled her body out and dumped it on the concrete. They must have then seen the child. Ryan supposed there was a moment when the girl’s life hung in the balance, but they must have judged her too young to be of use to the police. A neighbour said they just shoed her away. In their rush to get away, the men drove over the woman’s body. Ryan guessed they did not understand the VW gears. Maybe they did and just didn’t care.

Little of this callousness was especially shocking. It was the child being there that made it so.

If this violence was reaching the prosperous white suburbs like Rosebank in the northern suburbs, well that marked the crossing of more than one boundary. The bus drivers and maintenance men at the hospital said it was ‘black on black’ violence, mainly Zulu’s and Xosa. A leftover from old tribal wars. The men would get angry and pronounce that the Americans and the Brits and all the other critics of this country did not understand that it was our armed forces and police who were actually risking their lives to save Bantu’s lives and keep order in the townships. The boss driver said “You can’t mix the races, and recently there had been a damn sight too much of that going on, especially in the city”. Hennie had killed a carjacker when they had tried for his bus at the traffic robots in Rosebank. Just took his gun from the glove compartment and shop the man in the face.

Well, it wasn’t just black on black any more.

Most car hijackings targeted Mercs and BMW’s. They were taken out of the country, cleaned up and reimported into Europe, but stolen minibus Combi’s stayed local. That one would be heading for a workshop in Soweto now for a makeover, and be back on the road in a week as a minibus taxi. The blood would be a problem.

And the kid. Would she remember? Awful thoughts came piling in. This violence was spreading out of the black districts into the white ones. That much was now clear. Few talked about it, it was for everyone to make their own assessment. Ryan supposed many were looking for a bolt hole and checking their passports.

He would get into Rosebank tomorrow on the hospital transport. Get off shift and head straight out for a Wimpy. If he didn’t change out of his uniform he could get the 3.30 bus. Best staying out of central Johannesburg for now but he needed to get out and see what was going on. Rosebank would do. The hospital was like a little island in the affluent suburbs. It was very easy not to lose touch with what was happening out in real world. “Bloody hell, a State of Emergency across the whole country, not just the black areas. “Things must be really kicking off”. He said these last words out loud.

So next day still dressed in his white polyester Safari Suit uniform with the light blue shoulder epilates, Ryan climbed into the hospital bus along with the morning shift cleaners and kitchen staff heading into the city to catch their trains. He could get the 5.30 pm transport back after his Saturday treat: burger and fries, root beer and a good long read of the Johannesburg Star.

He didn’t know why they called it a Wimpy bar. It was more like a small restaurant but with most of the tables out on the pavement. Rosebank liked to think itself ‘continental’, Here that meant elegant European. Nothing at all to do with Africa. Bookish but with good clothes shops. Africa was getting nearer though. Not all the blacks were returning home to the townships at night. The Group Areas Act was leaking aplenty.

A fifty-metre line of black day-workers was at the roadside, waiting for their rides out to Alexandria Township. The racists called these stock vehicles of mass transit for the blacks, Kaffir Taxis. As an English immigrant, Ryan had naïvely copied the phrase until a doctor at work had shamed and corrected him.

June is the Southern hemisphere winter. The sun would be down by 5 pm. It was the season of no rains and dust and brilliant sunsets. Soon the temperature would drop sharply and Ryan would have to get up for a walk or go inside and get another coffee, but he loved this time of day and lingered. The blacks came to the city early morning and they largely decamped and went back to their townships around dusk. The street traders like the old women squatting on tarpaulins with little pyramids of fruit set out in from of them, would pack up and hop on a minibus. The armies of maids and gardeners flowed out of the suburbs, but their numbers were less each month as many now stayed behind in lonely little shed-like homes at the back of their employers’ houses. In the half-hour, before dusk, the dust suspended in the air would produce a spectacular show in the western sky. No place has sunsets like Johannesburg, when the light softened and slanted, the place took on a sepia glow.

Ryan sat at his table, newspaper folded to the section he was reading. They had been in the country three years. The meal and the view was his favourite part of the week.

Narrow white stripes ran down the front page of the newspaper His first thought: that there was some failure in the printing was ridiculous of course. There was a complete article on yesterday’s declaration of a State of Emergency, another on the young mother’s murder and a third on a battle in the Falklands, but the rest of the front page were gaps where there should have been stories. The paper had been censored. Ryan’s eyes looked across the spaces and guessed they represented fighting out in the townships but maybe now also now in the white areas.

A lemon-coloured SAPS van coming from the direction of Johannesburg did a U-turn just in front of him and parked alongside the curb facing oncoming traffic. Two officers in blue fatigues and stab vests got out. The elder of the two positioned himself thirty metres ahead of the bonnet of the van and monitored oncoming traffic. He livened as he spotted a fully laden minibus taxi and gestured for it to pull over in front of the police vehicle. The younger officer stood ready at the kerb. He looked about eighteen and was probably a conscript. The older guy, with close-cropped blonde hair and moustache, was about twenty and almost certainly a regular.

Ryan decoded what was about to happen. The policemen’s plan was to do roadside interrogations of minibus-taxi drivers, the cowboys of their world, men plugged into the whisper networks that doubtless operated along the routes. The SAPS men wanted that information. Ryan craned his neck around. Such information getting would need some rough handling and this was not the place to do it. There was maybe a hundred blacks along the pavement and around them.

The younger officer (barely half a year out of matric, Ryan guessed) was eying the crowds, his right hand nervously touching his sidearm. He wanted to get out and away, but his partner, Blondie was intent on his task. His blood was up and he was out to prove himself. Ryan intuited this operation was about the mother and kid. Matric boy hung forward on the balls of his feet and watched his partner.

Blondie Cop pulled the track suited driver bodily from his cab, grabbed him by his neck and waistband and marched him to the bonnet of the police van. He slammed him against the short bonnet of the vehicle so that the black man’s face hit against the guttering of the windscreen. Ryan rested down his knife and fork. Forward and to the left, two lanes of traffic were slowing and merging to get around the police vehicle. Behind his right shoulder was Matric Boy, now with his back wholly to the pressing crowd, his mouth agape. Entirely absorbed in the drama and insufficiently sensitive to the mood of the crowd.

Blondie pulled the taller man to his feet, spun him around like a toy and then slammed him down again, this time face up and a little closer. His left hand went to the man’s neck and made a fork around the driver’s throat. His right hand went to the baggy crotch of the man’s tracksuit trousers and grabbed his balls. He screamed into the drivers face a sentence in Afrikaans. The man, frozen by this sudden terror was clearly not hearing. Angered further, Blondie turned the hand holding the driver's sac forty-five degrees like he was twisting a wheel. The driver’s eyes expanded. With his left hand, Blondie clutched the man’s now prominent windpipe and squeezed. This allowed for no possibility of speech but talking was clearly not the point now. The crowd moved forward half a metre to the curb edge, but still cautious as they knew the officers had guns. Blondie kept at the man. Now screaming in English “You must know the animals”.

The body moves and the mind follows. Afterwards when he was home and dosing himself with whisky, Ryan interrogated himself. What made it happen?

He was a tall man. Near on two metres. That might partly explain. He did not feel angry or vengeful. He only wanted to do one thing. Get Blondie and Matric back in their van and away before they were torn limb from limb. Ryan spoke slowly and with plain purpose but also like a bank manager instructing a junior teller. “Take your hands off that man”. The police officer responded and the driver collapsed to the floor and flipped about like a floundering fish.

Blondie’s hands fell to his sides. Puce faced and panting he looked up at the sky like he had won a race. Ryan sensed the other officer at his side and grabbed him. His tone now changed, he barked, “Both of you fuck off right off!” That’s all it took. The two policemen climbed into their van like they were going to be eaten by bears. Backed up two metres and drove forward into oncoming traffic, then mounted the pavement at the corner and took a right. They were out of sight in seconds.

The driver rolled to his left side and vomited, his hands placed over his groin, resisting movement. A woman stepped off the minibus like she was going to help him. Ryan judged that to be for the best…for the driver to be helped by one of his own. He walked slowly, avoiding eye contact and sat back down at the table. He knew somehow if he didn’t eat he would be killed. His hands shook wildly and he struggled to spear and gather the food. It became dry in his mouth and he could not swallow. People moved around him. They looking down as they passed. He felt the hostility, held his breath and felt like a target. Five metres away the woman knelt by the driver and spoke quietly in their own language.

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#Short Story #creative writing #rosebank south africa #south africa 1980s

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 5 years

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Stars Align 2

The first episode I saw at the anime club, so I’ve skipped straight to ep 2 for the coverage.

Hmm? I thought this would cut to the OP…it didn’t.

Oh, poor Maki! He has a slap mark on his face!

Why is it uniforms are so gendered anyway? Not just sports ones. (It might be because I’m so used to wearing other people’s hand me downs, regardless of their gender, but…yeah.)

The real tennis-playing dude is Kei Nishikori…LOL.

That’s the 3rd Ishigami for this season, methinks. (The others hail from Dr Stone.)

Come to think of it, the most I’ve ever done in one shot is 10 laps of a court (and that was with lots of practice). 20 would be torture…

The animation…where it goes black and white…that’s awesomeeeeeeeeeeeee, y’know???

I like how Maki’s just splat on the ground without his hands to support him.

Windows tablet with stand. I’ve seen those in stores and catalogues before…they should run Windows 7 at the bare minimum, 8 or 10 if they’re newer.

Maki’s top says “continue” on it. It’s a good shirt for a boy that really does continue, despite his hardships.

I-Is Maki’s mother having an affair…? With Shou? Or is Shou a good friend of hers who happens to be male?

The way Toma wears his jacket…it reminds me of Chuuya (BSD). Pretty badass for a middle school kid, don’tcha think?

Kenkou = health, so a squishy ball is a health ball…makes sense. It’s good for the circulation and all that.

When Toma started explaining the grips…I realised I’d fallen into what I just called the Tsuritama trap…that is, when I watch a show for entertainment and end up learning about skills I’ll never need in the process.

Both boys are righthanded, I noticed.

Didn’t notice at first, but Toma put the ball in his pocket.

Is it just me or is there CGI in this show…? (That’s a feeling I’ve had since ep 1, but haven’t been able to confirm since it’s so well integrated.)

Hmm…I heard there was plagiarism going around with this show’s choreography…I didn’t see the Chika dance in context, so I wouldn’t know if it was copied from there. Still, it’s interesting how the guy on the left (if there is one) generally does better than the one on the right. Some of them just give up in the end, LOL.

Hmm…Hoshiai no Sora means “The Sky where Stars Line Up” or something of the sort…hence, “Stars Align”.

“Even in an ever-changing world, the starlit sky will not change.” – That’s the words that sometimes accompany the title.

BnHA 65

Yeah, how are the League any different to the yakuza anyway?

The interesting thing is that Deku also has “power he can’t control”, but we see more of that narrative.

I love how Mic’s words were put into the visuals too, culminating in the “HA!”.

Okay, so Togata’s pun is that he’ll ittemirio, a pun on his name (obviously) and ittemiro (let’s go see). The English says I Togata see, which keeps his name in there and keeps the level of cheesiness to boot! Good job subbers! (By the way, that pun’s not in the manga.)

I already know what happens in this arc (thank you, free Viz chapters!), so now I have this sinking feeling when it comes to talking about Nighteye…

Apparently Bubble Girl was a winning design from a competition. Sorta like how Horikoshi appeared in One Piece one time and that, you could say, was the start of his career in print (so it’s a legacy in a sense).

Iruma-kun 3

Oh hey, I just realised Asmodeus’s nails are bright red…that’s kinda cute, actually. (In that “boys are hot” kinda “cute” sense, people.)

I have no idea what the lyrics to Clara’s song are meant to be in Japanese…not that I could track down whatever the heck she’s singing anyway.

Okay, so “play house” appears to be mamagoto (literally “mother’s thing[s]” (in a metaphorical sense, playing house is replicating mothers’ chores, so…yeah, mothers’ things), but it’s got the character for “demon” twice instead of what it should have. Hence “murder house”.

Hey, couldn’t you at least make Azz-Azz (as you call him) your husband?(!) (small LOL)

Demonathon = marathon, but with the character for “demon”. That’s actually straightforward in both languages…for once.

The alarm clock is a cute bird with horns!!! So cute!!!

I feel sorry for Opera. Which reminds me, why would Sullivan need a butler if he was living alone?

Whoa! Iruma actually refused before Clara said “please”! He’s growing a spine! So early…(whispers “My boy is growing up so fast…” as a joke)

Clara’s nails are a bright pink…a few shades off from Asmodeus’s red, but still really bright.

*vending machine appears* - Now that’s what I call “getting Yocchan some cold drinks”!

Azz isn’t dressed in white, he’s in pink! Dang colour palette, going against what Clara says!

I just realised Asmodeus wears two jackets…or is that a jacket and a long shirt?

There’s no pun in that segment title…it’s just “Akuma no Otomodachi”.

Poor Opera…it looks like he’s wearing two pairs of pants…or maybe that’s his shirt? Or his boxers? Who knows?...Actually, when I think about it, that might just be his shirt. Sorry, Opera.

Wait…so if most of the demons fly to school, why do Asmodeus, Clara and Iruma walk…? (Well, Iruma can’t fly, but the other two might be able to…) Update: We do kind of address this in the next ep, but that doesn’t answer why Clara hasn’t shown she can fly in that ep.

Oh, if it isn’t Sna-er, Kalego…(LOL) But seriously, Kalego’s hairdo is actually kinda nice for a guy. Then again, I’m the one who likes dudes with long hair, so…eh. I can take it or leave it.

Did Kalego never meet Clara…?

Eggie-sensei…no kidding, that’s what she says. It’s from the –ego in “Kalego”, of course. (But I have no idea if “Azz-Azz” is what Clara actually says for Asmodeus…) Similarly, the school store guy is called Kamukamu-san, so it’s literally “Comecome”...as in “come and buy from me”. Update: Yes, Azz-Azz is what she calls him.

There aren’t a lot of girls in that crowd, Eggie-sensei and Clara…

Eggie-sensei really is shaped like an egg! So fluffy! I wanna plushie of him in that form!

Wait, the sticker costs 333 bills? Iruma’s gonna have to pay for it later…Update: 2 stickers = 666 bills.

“Pay me.” – LOLLLLLLLLLLL! I’m so sorry, Fluffy Snape, but you were hilarious in that scene!!!

Demons don’t even have the concept of “friends”…? That’s…cute! Way too cute!

The mochi Clara refers to is because tomodachi is the word for friend (it has “mochi” in it, see?).

There’s Sullivan’s face on his stamp, LOL.

See? Asmodeus does have black wings like the demons you see in all those morning shots of this show!!!

Dr Stone 16

Byakuya (Senku’s dad)…his face keeps getting censored, even though it’s right there on the spinoff promo material…! *points to the spinoff page on Viz*

The piano music in this scene is nice…I heard the OST is on Spotify too, so I’ll chase it up later.

“Senku, the science guy” doesn’t have as much of a ring to it as Bill Nye does.

Taiju’s just got this proud face, like he didn’t really know what he was doing but he claimed the credit anyway…the big oaf. (LOL)

There’s a banana on Senku’s phone, LOL.

Hmm…where’s Senku’s mum? Did he ever have one?

Shamil’s face looks like Tsukasa’s so much, it almost unnerves me…

[TMS Football Stadium] - TMS is responsible for this anime adaption, I’m pretty sure…LOL.

A Byakuya reboot just started in manga form. I wonder if the Dr Stone anime will cover any of it…?

BnHA 66

Notably, “hero work studies” = hero internships. Those two translations seem to be interchangeable.

Normally, the end of the phrase would be “Boy Meets Girl”, right? There’s an important girl in this arc, y’know?

The contract is kind of hard to read, but I did make out the word “Nighteye” in katakana.

Technically, Midoriya should be in possession of a funny bone - the humerus, y’know??? (<- comically missing the point)

Mirio kinda reminds me of Araki (Area no Kishi), for some reason…it must be because they both like comedy. Then again, Midoriya at the moment is reminding me of Bakugo, because of all the mouth shapes being similar…

This is interesting. In the manga, the scene pointing out Ochako and Tsuyu weren’t going to be at their original internship places wasn’t at the dorms.

Ooh! They’re even foreshadowing Hawks, which wasn’t even in the manga at this stage!!

I do believe this “Hado and Amajiki talking to the students who’ll be relevant to this arc” is also anime-original. Todoroki’s joke was definitely AO (anime original).

Shinchou Yuusha 3

…can we not with the boob jokes??? Rista doesn’t have a flat board, people. Update: She also acknowledges this…we don’t know Aria’s size, but Rista is a D cup.

Oooh, oooooooooooh! I spy a ponytail boy in the back there and me likey! (I guess I’m still feeling a bit bummed out because I attended a wedding yesterday and ended up crushing on a cousin’s younger brother-in-law – precisely because he had long hair, but then he put it up into a man bun and I went, “Nope, I can’t have him,” not to mention he’s married already. Plus the Area no Kishi episode I found today – ep. 30 – had a kinda chubby Araki, so I noped out of it and as a result, I need me some bishonen to appease the eyes. Good thing Seiya does the trick.)

Marth, eh? *thinks about the blogger* Then again, there’s my reaction when it comes to Ariadoa…

Oh, this is like a PreCure dance ED. I see…then it turns out to be Rista’s figure alarm. The logic checks out.

Iruma-kun 4

Seriously, Azz doesn’t sound like he should be Iruma’s age…but that’s part of the joke, I guess. *gets pelted with tomatoes for revealing said joke*

So “The Misfit Class” is technically the “Problem Child Class” (Mondaiji Kurasu), but the alternative reading given to mondaiji says “Abnormal”.

It seems “devi” is an alternative way to say “very” in this show, hence the ED being “Debikyu” (Devi Cute).

I…think these demon ranks may actually be Phonecian letters (which I learnt about from Star Driver)…

That “thinking reed” business I knew from somewhere, but…turns out it’s just a person called Blaise Pascal.

A “heugh”? Wassat? (It just sounds like some noise you’d make when you barf…) Okay, I’m joking, here’s the real meaning: “a steep crag or cliff” or “a ravine or glen with overhanging sides.”

Clara, stop fiddling with Sabrock’s tail…!

Oh, demon birds are cute! Like regular sparrows, only with a different colour scheme! The demonitors are cute too!

So many cute birds~. I’m so spoilt~!

Hmm…if humans cause demons to heal…no wonder they’re delicacies.

Hmm…I suspected this episode would end with a cliffhanger. The plotline was running far too long for just 23 mins.

Stars Align 3

Geesh, Toma’s got a huge bag…Update: (They all have huge bags, what are you saying???)

Lemme guess – I know nothing about tennis, but the best tennis doubles need good communication. I learnt that sort of thing from the Amazing Race, to be real with you.

Come to think of it…it’s always the mother with her unconditional love, huh? Any single fathers in anime? (No, I don’t mean like Father Fujimoto in Blue Exorcist – he’s an adoptive father.)

Judging from the cacti and fossils, Toma likes paleontology and biology. Or maybe that was from Ryoma…who knows?

Toma appears to have green frames for his glasses and then standard black frames.

Dang, it cut in the middle of that revelation! If this were a manga, I would’ve been chomping at the bit for the next chapter! However, it does get finished at the very end, so keep watching.

Update: There’s not a lot of music to this show…not that that’s a bad thing. It’s good for tense moments, in fact.

No Guns Life 3

This OP rocks, man!

Ayatsuri Ningyo = Manipulated Puppet. Or Puppet for Manipulation.

That thing on the door says “best luck” (daikichi). It’s a very Chinese thing to do.

His apron says “meat”. He’s probably a butcher or something.

How does a guy with a gun for a head drink coffee? (small LOL)

I remember someone called Juzo with Basket “a Nezuko cosplay”.

Does Tetsuro’s voice change for the Extended he affects with Harmony?

I noticed in the ED Juzo has an arm missing…must be important later.

I believe Mary’s shirt in the ED says “skill” or “technique” (read as “gi” or “waza”).

#simulcast commentary #Boku no Hero Academia #shinchou yuusha #kono yuusha ga ore tueee kuse ni shinchou sugiru #No Guns Life #Mairimashita! Iruma-kun #Dr Stone #hoshiai no sora #stars align #Chesarka watches Dr Stone #Chesarka watches BnHA #Chesarka watches NGL #Chesarka watches M-Ik #Chesarka watches Stars Align #Chesarka watches Shinchou Yuusha

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