A Tropical Fallout

A man stood upon a shore, his head darting in every which way, scanning the landscape of a desolate shore with his hands firmly pressed to the side of his stomach, grasping his stomach, and arms jutting out to the side. He had shaggy blond hair atop his head that cascaded into a scruffy jaw. He wore a clothing of various sorts stitched together by some rather think leather straps. The top was decorated by predominately red pieces of clothing with some thinker, brown padding of leather on the shoulder and elbows. The bottom was composed of the same stitching patterns, random linings about the article. It was decorated by bash and brown clothing with the entire front covered by the same thick leather as on the elbows and shoulders. He was tanned by the ever beating sun upon his tiresome face, lines sprouting from the corner of his golden-flecked green eyes, each reflecting the image of the sorrowful sun as he stared upward with a scowl. "You can't just fucking throw the guns, our only goddamn salvation, to the whatever fucking side pleases you," exclaimed the man. "They were going to attack us, Aries; I wasn't worrying about the damn guns at the moment!" shouted another man towards Aries. This man donned shoulder-length black hair with a surprisingly clean-shaven face in the face of this environment. His top was composed of a darkly stained white undershirt as giant black overalls wrapped itself across his upper and lower torso. Aside from the ashy shading that had been attributed to the overalls, a giant cut ran down the upper left top part of the overalls to within a couple inches down the side of the left legging of the overall. He wore a brown, leather fedora with dark brown patches dotting its visor and top. It cast a long shallow shadows across his already black eyes, as though making the black even blacker, as if there had still been a shade of light to it.  Aries was enraged. "Goddammit, do you realize they just stole our guns, our fucking protection?! Dammit, Aquilo!" "They were armed and they were ten people. If it hadn't been for that first shot, we would both have been that poor-ass fool. I was just reacting because frankly, the only thing I could think about was getting to shelter. Do you value the guns more than your own friggin' life?" "Fuck you, Aquilo. Fuck you," yelled Aries as he abruptly thrust a middle finger into the air in the direction of Aquilino.

Greenish waves seamlessly cascaded over the the browned sand with their subtle foams, racing forward, and then racing back. The sea itself had a sickening green color as an equally sickening light was given from the sun, filled with the remains of an era long past. Discarded and deteriorating bottles, a century or so old, dotted the coastline with letters now indecipherable from time, cans covered in wet, glistening rust with hardened creatures inside, and a man, several bullet holes inside his chest, lie still, his measly torn attire of worn pants and a hoodie, coated in red; its dirty white hue was now indistinguishable. A desolate beach of artifacts new and old surrounded two loners. 

The Cubone Enigma

I have a Pokemon conundrum, thanks to Pico Riley.

It is theorized that Cubone is a young Kangaskhan that lost its mother, adapting the skull and bones of it. Cubone evolves into Marowak, a more advanced version of...a motherless animal(strange). However, something peculiar happens in Red and Blue. In Lavender Town, the restless ghost haunting the tower was a Marowak who died protecting her Cubone... Did you catch that? Cubone is made from a motherless KANGASKHAN, yet the undead Marowak at the tower was a mother of a Cubone. It is as though a child of a Marowak can adapt the same skull of a Kangaskahn from Marowak or it was born a Cubone.

(seeing as Marowak does not have the same shape of head and itself lost its mother as well as it was a Cubone before, implying Cubones who take a skull from Marowak to become Cubone is not the norm and/or would be in different shapes. Not to mention there would have to be an original Marowak set to have died, if this was the typical succession process, but how did they become Cubones? Unless there was another species that it took its skull from at first.)

You may say it turned into a Cubone afterwards, but there are two things: Marowak does not evolve into a Kangaskhan, so a Cubone could not form as it never had a KANGASKAHN mother. However, it may be born as a baby Kangaskhan what with genetic similarity and all and then it lost its mother, becoming Cubone, or possibly just a Pokemon that adapt the skull of its mother, whomever its mother is. However, "it died protecting her Cubone child."-Bulbapedia. It was a Cubone before it even lost its mother. Even if the claim that Cubone=motherless Kangaskhan are false, Cubones still are, by the Pokemon definition, formed because they are motherless. It may have been adopted, and that could tie loose-ends relative to Red/Blue (not the whole breeding issue, though), but, why not adopt the skull of Marowak, seeing as Marowak was its mother?

However, it is completely possible Cubone is just naturally bone-headed and evolves into Marowhak due to the ability to breed it, as is likely the case now in subsequent generations. There is something to remember though, aside from Pokedex entries,http://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Cubone_(Pok%C3%A9mon)#Pok.C3.A9dex_entries . Breeding was not available in RBY. It is possible they changed the story completely with Cubone, but did not clean out everything from the story and Santi's link seem to address that.

http://bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Cubone_(Pok%C3%A9mon)#Physiology

http://funky-facts.blogspot.com/2009/09/pokemon-baby-kangaskhan-theory.html

http://pokemon.wikia.com/wiki/Kangaskhan#Trivia

So...does this mean Cubone and Marowhak are Kangaroo Pokemon? 

Then, it was brought to my attention, Arix, that it is possible Cubone was adopted by Marowak and that Marowak's form by an already motherless Cubone losing its mother again and this then impacts its development into Marowak form and taking the skull of the dead Marowak mother. You may say that there would need to be an original Marowak and if there is, where did it get its skull from. Well, unless, the original Marowak was formed by another, unidentified pokemon. Maybe the Cubone had been adopted by another type of pokemon prior and if it lost that mother, it took its skull. This type of pokemon may have receeded and from a psychological evolution, these "new" Cubones (aka Marowaks) began to adopt other Cubones, a learned behavior passed down like how those Japanese monkeys learned to dip food in salt water for flavor and to go into the hot springs when it is cold. There is an extinct pokemon we do not know about if this description is correct... I would like to cite the similarity between Marowak's skull and Nidoqueen's skull Arix brought to my attention. Is Nidoqueen intertwined with Marowak as well?

Pokemon: A Horrifying Truth

In honor of Pokemon month and my recent antagonism towards Pokemon since my Pokemon Black copy stopped working (like they do in reality), I have taken it upon myself to "uncover" Pokemon. Having already pointed out (amongst peers: Arix and Pico) the fact Cubone has some serious inconsistencies and Oedipal problems to work out, I shall now reveal what sort of Hell we would live in if Pokemon were real. There are some factors we will view as actual occurrences:

*Pokemon are as intelligent as they are shown.

*They have a cry that is similar to their name

* They are able to communicate with another. (it's fucking magical, or something)

*They can suddenly mature after reaching a certain age and psychological state. AKA evolving

*They can perform the same attacks as they do in every medium they're presented in.

*THEY AREN'T INVINCIBLE!

*Legendaries exist, and only one of them for each legendary.

* Cubone will not be touched upon. I'm tired of them.

* "Super effective" and "not very effective", both nonexistent. Nearly every attack is effective.

*TMs can be taught to them (magically)

* Once they reach a certain stage of development, they learn new attacks

Health & Safety

Imagine a world in which animals run around, much like this one. Playing, running, eating, survival stuff. Now imagine these animals invoking the power of nature to summon an eruption to fend off a rival thereby successfully igniting brush fire across the whole state of California. That's Pokemon. Pokemon would be INCREDIBLY dangerous. The ability of relatively intelligent animals to call upon destructive forces could decimate cities, or more likely, be responsible for much of the damage in cities. Let's assume much like now, the building of cities pushes Pokemon away due to negative human interaction. However, Pokemon could still potentially live in cities, within the context of Pokemon that would likely live there (rattata, pidgey, starling, meowth, skitty, etc). An oversized pidgeon could be a common sight (and is a common sight), but this sight could form a miniature tornado to tear through the city, creating damage and killing a variety of people. Let's play Devil's advocate and say only small Pokemon live in cities. Fair enough. Take a look at moves they can naturally learn. A pidgey well trained enough by itself is not some little shit, but like the rabbit from Monty Python's Holy Grail. I would also like to site Grimer, a Pokemon made of poisonous sludge. Imagine that thing invading your water supply? Yeah, a lot of disease and illness may prompt more stringent requirements in analyzing water content.

Besides murderous pidgeons to be seen daily, we aren't taking into account the rare possibility a truly destructive Pokemon enters the cities vicinity, angry or moody, say a legendary. If Ho-Oh has been awakened and takes flight, in the chance he decides to unleash a Hydrogen bomb type destruction upon the city, they would have to evacuate the city almost every time he flew over, lest, you know, massive death. On a lesser scale, imagine an angry Rhydon stomping around. This can cause numerous miniature tremors. Ignoring the horrid impact it may have on plate tectonics, there would likely be drills to deal with these "lesser" destructive Pokemon. Now, going back to legendary destruction, the threat they pose is so severe, do you really think they'd allow EPA to protect them? Hell no. They would probably assign a task force to kill them, or if you're cynical, kidnap them and use them for personal gain (like every pokemon villain except the villain this time is a government with access to military and their own destructive pokemon). There would probably not be that much of an environment backlash since they are the only one of their species, though killing Celebi may be kinda bad.

It is also this sheer danger that would render small, rural towns like Pallettown a pretty damn stupid choice to live. If just one pissed off Pokemon enters, it would bring the town to ashes and there is not too much concern in regards to protection to motivate government to send forces to stop the pissy Pokemon when there is an entire city at risk of these encounters. The town may have a "close connection with nature" thing going on, but I restate, it only takes ONE pissy Pokemon. There are far too many wild Pokemon that would likely run about such a town and the structures/government agencies dedicated to protecting the town are nonexistent. This is why a single Pokemon wiping a city off the map can be probable, not to mention that directly outside the town and passing through the town would be rather sizable Pokemon, like a fucking Scyther.

Now, what about those cute little trainers? Could they not defend the city with their own Pokemon that they trained battling with one another in friendly competition? No. If I have not established the danger level of using Pokemon, let me put in a lawful perspective. Pokemon would be WEAPONS. W. E. A. P. O. N. S. Giving a kid an animal that shoots fireballs with the goal of fighting other kids who have animals that shoot fireballs is like giving kids flamethrowers with the aim of blowing up the other kids flamethrower. You can make anything cute. You can make children smacking each other with steel rod-swords, so their soul is not stolen, alongside Disney characters cute (See: Kingdom Hearts)(heh...Disney and souls). Anyways, Pokemon=1st class weapons. No man, woman, or child would be able to own them due to being both highly dangerous weapons and an exotic animal. (Like a lion that emits nuclear radiation from its robotic mane). To deal with the occasional disruptive pokemon, the options would be: (A) Kill it, (B) Sedate and remove, (C) Fight and remove, (D) Ignore it/Leave city. In (D), the city would be ridded of or sustain massive damage before it finally ends, which is never a good thing (people, homes, property, jobs, etc.). While (C) seems appealing to anyone with the concept of Power Ranger type battles, this could be worse than even (D). Having two animals go at each other each with the potential to bring down civilizations will do more damage. If the pissy Pokemon is engaged, it may, you know, become even more pissy and utilize attacks with greater power behind them ( which frankly equals more destruction and risk to human life). This also does not take into account YOUR Pokemon becoming stimulated in the fight and putting power behind its attack. In this case, you're never a part of the solution, only the problem. However, if you have a specially trained Pokemon that exceeds the others power and it can use a simple Slash to rid of Mr. Happy, well, kudos to you, you actually were a part of solution, and may have prevented mire destruction by ending the rampage sooner than a dart or bullet to the face would have.

Following up upon the fact that Pokemon are WMDs and you chose to actually fight the problem rather than sedate or kill it, there would probably be a special task force under orders of military and government to utilize such dangerous creatures. "Trainers" would not be the happy-go-lucky children in the show, but highly trained, elite, CIA or military personnel able to obtain access to destructive devices. It is safe to say this division would be responsible for dealing with rampages, but it would likely be, since there are few of these men and not as readily available as the police, for rampages where sedation and a bullet to the head are ineffective and this Pokemon is annihilating city blocks every 2 seconds, like a vexed Tyranitar using fissure everywhere. A pissy Pidgeot would likely be handled by FBI or police as having such a group that demands a high degree of training and would likely be used for more important "matters" (*coughespionagecough*). If you may have figured out by now, TMs would be made by the government and be a black market item for the public since powering up an something that can easily bring about genocide is generally frowned upon in law...and society in general. I would also like to put in a little biology, if you are fighting each other with Pokemon, using slash, like in the example of what to do, would not render them unconscious. Using attacks will result in damage, massive damage. A slash would render a blood carcass while Flamethrower would turn Pokemon into a living model of witch hunting. Yes, they will be burned alive. Unless it is something like using ember on a Geodude to eventually render him unconscious by heat bombardment, most battles will end in suffering and death. Good ol' kids' games.

*This mainly focuses on wild Pokemon and Pokemon's natural power. Criminals and Pokemon will be next...maybe...if I feel like it. Don't expect anything soon... or at all.

The Rabbit Burrows

Here's a tale. Beneath the delicate surface of the bellowing green grass of the country, upon the side of a stout, English hill, there had once been a nest home to a collective of rabbits. Such a close, caring commune where all were upon the vigil for all others, looking out for those who nursed, those who led, those who gathered, those who played, steadfastly youthful in this sole burrow away from foreign ground. These young rabbits had known this and only this burrow, this burrow where they were raised, fed, and nurtured amongst themselves. As time had passed, so did their immaturity; full fledged rabbits, but maturity demanded more than the physical. A horrid storm decimated the complex tunnels of the burrow and the rabbits were shoved into the forefront of adulthood. They had to find a new settlement where they may survive. They were individuals, each with their own personal ideologies, dreams, and goals, and like all good individuals, they each sought their own individual paths. In going their own ways, they each met their fates. One was a fighter, who would never wither from a conflict, as though he had something to prove. He died as he lived. Attempting to fend off a bird of prey, he was mortally wounded from a gash to his side, dying silently in the claws of the predator. Another was a leader. He took two others as they formed their party in search of a home. A leader never is proven as one until they reach that which defines a leader, the altruism for utilitarian, valuing the group as greater than the individual. Upon seeing a group member struggle to flee from a farmer, a broken impedded her, he sprinted toward the farmer, successfully distracting him. Though she had finally fled, he was now exhausted and the farmer easily ridded of him. Each met different fates, some encountered death, and others despair. Some encountered that curious room where all things that vanish seem to appear while others found the warmth of a mate in a new home they could join. Of all these individuals, only one saw his frontier, only one saw the home he vowed to make, only one was left to truly ponder. He created this new burrow, his own two paws. It was eventually populated as neighboring burrows united with his, soon developing into that complex he had been so used to, but it was just a burrow as in his youth. Everyday upon building his burrows, everyday upon uniting burrows, everyday upon living in his creation, he wondered what had become of those once so close to him. Those young rabbits he had been so attached to were nowhere near him. Where were they now? What were they now? How were they now? The goal was to make themselves a new home, but is it possible any of them achieved their own? Did any of them achieve their place of content and comfort? A little place called home. 


*There is a reason why I chose the title aside from the literal story (think of how burrows have tunnels, each leading down separate paths, but all are still a part of this home)

Chaplinism

Chaplinism is a philosophy on life and emotional perception. In chaplinism, it rests on the statements life is a joke or more generally, everything is a joke. It is inspired by Charlie Chaplin's statement, "In the end, everything is a gag". In this philosophy, it basically advocates everything has a funny side towards it and in regards to life, one should not take it seriously, like a joke, and find the humor in it to better deal with life's negativity. Regardless of how negative a situation seems, there is always an aspect of it that one will find humorous. It does not advocate utter indulgence into humor so as to rid of other emotions and possibly lead to a difficulty in compassion and empathy/sympathy because they may not perceive the depressive emotions of another going through difficulty. It advocates placing a funny side to situations to reduce its negativity and possibly better deal with it. It wants the individual to retain a realistic view of life where they may see the facts and pragmatically deal with them as well. Utter comedic indulgence will be called Jesterism.

Striking Striking Striking

A clock rested on the wretched Earth at an angle, with the edges of a steel number twelve pointing, still in as pristine a condition as it had been, towards the ill sky. The case surrounding the face of the lone clock was partially intact, with some of its pieces still clinging on as though they would fall to their demise, while less fortunate pieces lay about the awkward clock, burying their miserable selves into the dirt. The clock's case and exposed facial parts were covered with a layer of grime that served to shroud a great minority of the numbers, but left the majority revealed, or at a least a majority partially so. This mechanical wonder had fallen from its zenith atop a once magnificent skyscraper, some one-hundred years ago, to the bottom-feeding low life of the Earth, much like many other surrounding buildings. The clock read 12:00, but only momentarily. You see, its severed hour hand continued to inch forward along a circular path followed in this hollowed city once known as Johannesburg. 
An elderly man sauntered, sometime afterwards, out of his shack, composed of scraps of metal hammered out with a makeshift hammer, hides from various creatures that had stalked these wastes, and the stone rubble that had descended from greater buildings. He carried only a bar of metal, bent near the top. Upon his minor steps, he managed to strip over minuscule dune, causing him to tumble downward along with his bar. The desolate thump echoing throughout the city. He grabbed his bar, placed all his weight along its vertical threshold, pulled himself up to what was his former glory, and continued his venture. As he continued, the act of him falling brought to the forefront of his feeble mind thoughts of the longevity of life, and whether death was as much a procrastination. The lengthening shadow of the hour hand struck the withered three. 
He eventually reached his desired spot, some miles away from his abode, in the alleyway of two buildings sloped into one another at the top, forming a sharp, v-shaped arch pointing upwards, and he peered between the arch to see the wind-swept hills of Witwatersrand. His sight was failing him, and he could but only imagine the apex of the hills with the barely perceptible details beholden by him. He perceived a glowing white tip with minor sparks of green dotted about its surface. He then viewed a sight much greater clarity where from the white tip descended darker tones. At first, it was yellow, emanating with a brush of poison, but it ultimately descended down to the very crevice where he stood, a sickening brownish yellow that exclaimed the very source of the yellow poison. In the face of such illness, he held onto his belief in the hilltop and retraced his steps, all the while that lone clock's hour hand, now further lengthened by light, struck six. 
It was but a few hours until the elder heard chatter coming from a few yards away from his huddled shack. Peering out of a partially obstructed opening that served as his window, he saw a faint light flickering with the mutter of voices stalking it closely. Having a mind not as reflexive as it had been in the best, he chose to remain peering out of the opening at the approaching light rather than observe the phenomenon from a secluded distance. His face became marred with horror as he saw three figures appear from beyond the fluttering light, each holding objects of length in their hands. He was only able to see such figures as their scarred, grinning faces were already revealed by the light that still fluttered and even more rapidly now as though it was the last breaths of a dying pride before it gave its last wail. He saw them just as they saw him. In a fret of sheer panic, the man stumbled around the shack, looking for his metal bar that was curved on the end. This would be his key for the purpose of prying open a door resting on the floor of his shack. Upon finding his method of salvation, he heard scampering heightening in pacing and sound. He dashed to a corner of his shack and began to rip at the door placed there with immense grunting noises, still hearing the heavy pacing descending upon his shack. With a final wretch, the door snapped open, the man threw himself down its entrance, and the man stretched his body across the door to secure the handle of the door. The clock struck nine, with its lengthening hand. 

A bullet passed through his head. The clock continued on with an outstretched hand heading towards a zero.

A young man wandered out from behind a statue he had been sleeping behind; a statue that had withstood for hundreds of years. After a weary walk, he spotted a secluded little shack beneath humbled buildings built for kings. Upon reaching the shack, he came to find it was deserted, but in disarray. Miscellaneous objects, such as playing cards, cups, lights, wires, toy cars, and scorched articles of literature, were thrown with no pattern amongst the dirt floor. The young man investigated the shack more so to find a pile of flammable objects that had been burned over, makeshift shelves that contained rocks, sharpened pieces of metal, and sheets of metal, and a metal bar tucked away in the corner by a hole. Upon peering in the hole, he saw nothing but some blood surrounding its rims, and chose to close the door he assumed served as cover for the hole. He saw all the aspects and features of the house and began to analyze how he might adjust it to better the defenses it offered from where they had deteriorated prior, maybe even greater than their original degree. He looked out of the opening to observe an hour hand that seemed to be at a normal length as it struck the steeled twelve, still in as pristine a condition as it had been. 

A Paradox for Hobbes

Thomas Hobbes, a political philosopher (that is all you need to know of him for this entry), believed humans were naturally evil, but their nature of wickedness led them to establish the institution of the state (which itself has adopted as its nature what it hoped to protect, but that is a paradox for anarchistic position). If humans are, so called, naturally "evil", but establish the state as protection, does it not logically follow that it is in their nature to establish "good" (as it seems Hobbes implies government as a counter-balance to evil in posing a contrast to an evil nature) institution to protect from evil as if they were generally evil, why establish a protection that limits themselves? If they were evil, they would radiate such wickedness and not establish something that excludes their desires. Rather, humans naturally have good natures and establish government not so much as protection from what they desire and may present harm from others, but to uphold their virtues from the evil outliers. If state is established as a general aspect of human nature, I would see it appropriate to say that humans are at least just as good as they are evil, rather than one factor generally dominate them, or that a factor of good persists in the evil to a notable degree (but it still requires a limitation of the attainment of desires). One may very well contest the state more so a protection from other evils so that the evil man may better holdhis life. Limiting his own actions for the sake of livelihood. If we accept this outcome, one may suppose as a possibility as well that if the state's purpose is to protect a certain amount of wickedness (protecting a wicked man so he may still utlize some of his wicked desires as that is why he wishes to maintain his life [living to simply live is wanted due to experiences desired to be fulfilled] and nothing is absolute, whereby his evil desires are not completely nullified simply in self-preservation) is wicked in and of itself, thereby making the state, due to its very purpose, an evil entity, and rather than reject wickedness, it only maintains it in its own degree, and is empowered with wicked acts it deems too wicked to deal with wickedness (acquisition and dominance through force), becoming hypocritical, and facilitating wickedness. One may very well say individuals exchange desires to those of virtuous desires so that they may live under protection. This provides a fallacious view of nature whereby they exchange the foundations of their nature for another so they may live under protection, a very temporal definition of nature. Rather, if good desires were had under government that they naturally erect, it may be viewed as yet further support to humans being of natural good, but holding wicked outliers.