or Knee Socks are Cool
I love cosplay girls or, at least, I love the idea of cosplay girls. Who are they? Where do they come from? And, most important of all, why do they come from? As in why? Why do they do things that they do do (doo doo)? And in particular I love Whovian cosplay girls. I don’t understand them, but dammit I respect them. And, maybe, I wouldn’t say respect either, but I have good-humored bewilderment for them. It’s their unending ability to turn anything sexy, and it’s that ability that makes me believe there’s something primal about the Dr. Who girls. Dr. Who cosplay is an exercise in scifisexification (to turn things sexy which shall not be sexy).
Dr. Who certainly wasn’t the first example of this, it may not even be the best example, but it’s quintessential. The sharp increase in sexy female versions of the 11th Doctor alone is fascinating. But don’t take my word for it, enjoy:
Thumbs and Ammo might be one of the best things I've seen on internet.
It's even better than my site: Celebrities with Jewel's Teeth
Am I the only one to obsess over singer/songwriter, Jewel Kilcher's teeth? Her music was whatever but that tooth was transcendent, and ever since Jewel fixed her teeth the world has been completely bereft of glorious snaggle pusses. It's something that we just don't appreciate until we lose it, but the truth is not every celebrity can pull it off. Never forget: Jewel's tooth.
Elsewhiles on the Web
In most cartoons and TV shows, being a master of disguise is a somewhat misleading label. It should be a master of disguise except...? The exception can be anything; except something, except fill in the blank because every great disguise is really a terrible disguise in the making. Any disguise it seems has fatal flaw, and it’s most likely being looked at. Simple observation seems to be the Achilles’ heel of any skinwalker, changeling, shapeshifter, chameleon, counterfeiter, or sham artist.
Every master of disguise has a tell—some big, some small—but always enough for whichever hero, however dimwitted they may seem, to notice.
Zartan – G.I. Joe
Tell: Blue skin
Zartan is the classic master of disguise. He can disguise his voice and appearance as anyone he wants. These are perfect disguises that are indistinguishable from the original. Perfect in every way except (and here’s our first except) that Zartan's skin turns blue in the sunlight. He has a weird sort of photosensitive hereditary rosacea, but instead of hives or acne, you get a case of the blues (I’m calling it azuracea). Zartan's motto on his business card should read: I can masquerade as anyone on the planet as long as it’s not between the hours of 7 and 5.
In the G.I. Joe live-action movie, Zartan doesn’t turn blue, but whistles as his tell. So, in all the ridiculousness that is the G.I. Joe movie, the filmmakers drew the line at blue skin.
So, where has Wolf Gnards been, you ask? Just what has ol’ Wolfie been up to? It certainly hasn’t been writing articles. Well, I’ve watched every episode of Dr. Who, read through several D&D manuals, obsessed over Jeremy Lin stats (he’s like a taller, more athletic, more coordinator, smarter, more flattopped, more Asian version of me… which makes him almost entirely not like me), chugged through Game of Thrones (Favorite quote: These thrones have been gamed!), and dicked around YouTube. Namely the same as most of you, which is nothing much. But I’ve been doing a damn fine job of nothing.
I couldn’t even be roused to do my annual Groundhog Day post. So, here’s a picture of Bill Murray as a werewolf instead. Just because.
But before I go about making promises of regular updates (which I most likely will not be keeping… but keep clicking back everyday just in case!), let’s take a look at 2012 in our completely untimely 2012 year in review!
I was thinking recently about the Predator’s mouth (as I often do on cold, lonely nights), and I noticed a slight design flaw. Not its nightmare vagina appearance, well sort of, but not the fact that it looks like a succubus’s private parts but because it really doesn’t work as a mouth. The primary function of most mouths is to eat some sort of food, but the primary function of the predator’s mouth is to be pointed at while someone (most likely your friend Ricky) shouts, “Oh, damn!”
As mouths go it just doesn’t work. Scary and disturbing? Yes. Functional? Probably not. Here’s the problem—count them up—the Predator species has 10 teeth. 10 teeth! And four of those are on those little pincers around his mouth, so only six of them are really devoted to any chewing/biting power. That’s barely enough to eat applesauce! Meaning Predators either have the dietary habits of your average baby or that of a snake.
Like Robocop, the Predators subsist off a "rudimentary paste that sustains their organic systems." The fact that Robocop eats baby food is pretty good evidence that a big, strong killing machine can thrive off the stuff. Baby food is probably also convenient for space travel like astronaut ice cream or Tang, or like military MRE’s (which are a little more like dog food, but I think a Predator might enjoy that more though). I do have a hard time believing that the Predator race has the manufacturing infrastructure and know-how to market and mass produce Brand X Predator baby mush (with the meaty gravy that babies crave). However, this same sentiment could also be suggested for spaceships/space travel. I like to imagine that faster than light travel requires more book reading and less laser shooting. Most likely if they do eat some sort of gruel it is composed of the bones of their fallen prey; any meat grinder would do in that case.
Predators don’t have teeth because they don’t need teeth, they simply swallow their food whole. Chewing is so primitive, any futuristic society would most likely evolve beyond teeth. It’s like in The Jetsons, where everything’s in pill form. If science has told us anything it’s this: evolution goes amoeba ► fish ► fish-monkey ► monkey ► Brendan Fraser ► Me ► reptilian bounty hunter (rastified 10%) ► pure energy (just wait until I get my energy rays all up in this hood).
It also explains those little insectoid palps on the side of its face (Tooth 1, 4, 5, and 10 in the figure above). Like an insect or crustacean these appendages are there to help cram various foodstuffs down the ol’ throat hole. Not chewing also explains why Predators are so low energy. Swallowing food whole is hell on a digestive system, it’s like eating a big turkey dinner at every meal. When you look at it, Predators really don’t get done nearly as much predatorating as they could. They’re invisible and have laser guns, it should take no more than 5 minutes to kill Arnold and his entire squad. Instead the Predator spends most of his time napping in trees. The daily activity of the Predator probably goes something like kill, eat, nap, kill, eat, nap, wax dreadlocks, string shark tooth necklace, kill, eat, nap.
So, what’s in a Predator’s diet? Anything it can fit in their mouths, I guess. If it’s anything like a snake then any small mammals, birds, or eggs will do. Or any of these fine foods:
The Predators' mouths and jaws may not be effective, but, at least, it doesn’t have a second mouth inside its first mouth.
These are Moonrise Kingdom finger puppets given to me for my birthday by friend Abbey (Hint… go to her Etsy store, it’s etstacular!). Of course, the reason this was given to me is not because I’m a huge Wes Anderson fan (which I am) or because I particularly liked the movie (which I did), but because I vaguely look like the kid in the film. Ok… I look a lot like the kid, to the point to where anyone who saw Moonrise Kingdom and knew who I was became very distracted by my younger self’s presence in the film.
Point of Proof:
Here’s a picture of me (I’m the one who’s not Val Kilmer)
Here’s a picture of the Moonrise Kingdom kid, aka Jared Gilman
- Gilman is from New Jersey
- I am also from New Jersey
- Gilman was born in 1998
- I was in New Jersey in 1997
I’m not saying I’m his father, but… wait a second, I am saying I AM NOT HIS FATHER.
In other Moonrise Kingdom news, lots of indie couples wanted to express their indie love by dressing up Sam & Suzy for Halloween. So much so that what should have been a semi-obscure film reference became completely unoriginal. And even though I look so much like Sam (even though I am most definitely not his father – which I pronounce in a legally binding statement), I chose to dress up this year as Dr. Who and Mrs. Gnards was the TARDIS; equally unoriginal, but much more suitable.
In other nerd news:
Brian Posehn put out a Nerd Poker podcast. Which is basically just an hour of him and his friends playing D&D, I actually liken D&D more to Fantasy Football, but I get what he’s saying. It’s just a fun game that has equal or greater value than other game that society deems more worthy.
It’s a fun podcast (albeit a long podcast), but it really brought me back to my pre-teen years before sex got in the way of having fun. This doesn’t mean I stopped playing D&D because I was trying to be cool (in order to have sex). Me not playing D&D had zero bearings on my odds of having sex. What I mean is that hormones just got in the way of a good game of D&D. It all become about having X number of wenches, and my character has 10 wenches and your character only has 7 wenches, and then, of course, at some point our characters began to fight over fictional wenches. And when you’re fighting over fictional wenches, it’s time to count your chips up, and push away from the table.