mizaeruu:

ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME I THOUGHT BLACK LUSTER SOLIDER WAS A GUY BUT IT’S A FUCKING BADASS WOMAN IN ARMOUR IT’S BEEN LIKE TEN YEARS MY LIFE IS A LIE LAYS DOWN

Well damn. TIL Black Luster Soldier is a woman.

Props to you, Kazuki Takahashi. /me thumbs up

(via stephodell)

I believe I speak for everyone that in this day and age, one of the most least relevant sources for information in politics and social commentary is the wide world of political cartoonists. They’re a staple of the way things have been since the olden days; an unsightly heritage that seems to drag on like the undying, rotting, pus-filled, festering, shit-covered corpse of an immortal fucking douchebag (which I highly believe might be one and the same).

Editorial and political cartoonists are employed for one reason, and one reason only: to combine their artistic skills—or lack thereof—with clever satire—or lack thereof—and gratuitous amounts of USDA Grade A 100% FDA-Certified Hyperbole, also known in layman’s terms as “Utter Fucking Bullshit”, to create a hellspawn of wit and glamour for their aligned political party that derides, for-shames, embarrasses, and completely defeats their opponents, leaving them so mind-boggleingly speechless that they are absolutely bereft of any coherent response whatsoever.

The fact that these cartoons, more often than not, leave the reader dumbstruck at how the composer could even be that much of a brain-dead manatee’s vegetable corpse floating in a literal sea of Black Angus cow patties, is lost on said composer, leaving them incapable of believing anything but the (untruthful) answer that their opponent is so mind-boggleingly speechless that they are absolutely bereft of any coherent response whatsoever. It’s a common mistake to make, I assure you.

Disassembling these works to make some sense of them, then, should be taken as a necessary step to figure out the meaning behind their statements, lest you be caught in a wildfire of dumbstruck gibberish flowing from your mouth like Niagara Falls.

Finally, seeing that there is no hope for understanding the message of the cartoonist, most give up and go about their daily business, trying to replace and renourish the lost brain cells they spent on understanding this bullshit. Some, like me, alternatively decide to make the editorial cartoon… better:

There. The message has been improved considerably, and humor can now be derived from this odd occasion of a T-rex rising like Godzilla to destroy New York. (Hopefully it’ll be a better film than American Godzilla was, and will have a scene where Chuck Asay’s house is trampled as Godzillarex goes on a cross-country rampage with a giant monkey and a giant wolfman. That’d sell millions; I think there’s a game about it already.)

Now if you’ll excuse me, I hear the mating call of the Greater Mesopotamian Douchebag outside my window. King of Heroes, do you have enough blades in stock?