8: Buns, hun

I mentioned that TheKittyMeister and I sit around and watch anime sometimes now that we’re all married ‘n’ shit. Here’s another one of those. I totally made her watch Sailor Moon Crystal. See, I watched Sailor Moon in the days of yore, back on Toonami. That’s what I did when I got home from school (when band practice didn’t keep me at school late). I basically assumed she had also done this, but in fact she’d never seen it.

Well, what was I going to do? I wasn’t going to watch the original show, that’s trash (I kid; seriously, though, it’s too damn long). I hear the consensus when Crystal came out was that it wasn’t very good? For the first six episodes I was totally on board; Chibi-Usa arc started to show some of the cracks in the edifice this redux was trying to build, but still I liked it.

More importantly, TheKittyMeister managed to make sense of everything with minimal input from me, so clearly it kept track of things well enough (she hated Chibi-Usa too! It’s nice to keep bonding in a relationship).

It was a fun experience to “rewatch” something while watching something new. That’s the appeal of this stuff, I imagine. But more importantly, at this precise moment, is the conversations Kitty and I had. She spent time speculating all sorts of weird things about the show. I can’t remember any, I hope she’ll reply with some. See, anime is, for some reason, one of the things I have trouble sharing with her. It’s super-weird; we bonded a little when we were doing the awkward “hanging out while mutually wanting to date” thing over anime. She recognized Tenchi Muyo dvds from images on the case (yes I own the latest Tenchi OVA series in the metal case, don’t judge me). If I were to psychoanalyze myself, it might be partly because I tried to watch some anime with her and our friend, who was sort of present during the entire first act of our relationship (and was a groomsman at our wedding). I, uh, failed to gauge their interests and tried to show Haruhi Suzumiya to them. The friend got up and walked out.

I was in an anime club — I even contacted the president of the anime club at my new school when I left to start my MFA (who never wrote back actually). It’s not as though anime is the shameful thing I do in my room alone because no one understands, man. My mom watched Hellsing with me and liked it (she likes vampire stories)! So I am still getting over this weird thing, and Sailor Moon Crystal helped some.

And ok, I’m way too proud of myself for my title here. “Buns, hun.” It’s from “Baby Got Back,” it’s a reference to Usagi’s hairstyle, and it’s a reference to the rabbit imagery of the show. You like puns? Have some damn puns! Triple-layer heart stopper puns!

Just this once I’m going to live with a blurry photo (”ha ha,”…

Just this once I’m going to live with a blurry photo (”ha ha,” long time readers respond, “the hell you say. You’re shit at photos.” Yes. Yes I am). It seems appropriate somehow for Burroughs.

I’m not going to link to it, but I just ran across a blog post decrying this novel, and in the end it’s the same old tedious arguments: “too hard to understand, not traditional enough, too much sex and drug use.” Look, this isn’t my Favorite Novel Evar, but it’s really not that weird. Indeed, I suspect said blogger didn’t even get to this section of the book, because it’s the thesis statement (and I know they read the same edition I have). Said blogger is clearly “taking his own pulse.” The point of the book is simply to get the reader out of his or her own head. Of course it’s about drugs – no one would write about drugs in the 50s. The book shows you how to “open the door at the end of the hall,” a phrase reminiscent of Blake’s “doors of perception.” Given this passage starts with a reference to Beowulf, I think it’s not unreasonable the book we already know is erudite is dropping some Blake on us. 

I didn’t actually start the calligraphy with the intention of yelling about this guy online. I hadn’t read the post yet. But this was the line I chose to write out, and it is perfect for the circumstances. 

Long story short: the book isn’t perfect. It’s almost not good in the traditional sense. It exists to do something to the reader, as all literature does, but in this case it’s almost the action that is the only content – most books want to “open your mind” to *something*. Naked Lunch just wants to jar the door open so you can see what gets in. 

(It certainly doesn’t lionize drug use. Read this book if you never, ever want to try heroin but think you might be tempted sometime.)

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