Okay okay we all know Johnny cash did his cover of Hurt and we were all like “ok he owns that now” but I watched the music video he made and I’m like “oh he OWNS it owns it”
It’s totally wild to me because most people agree that Trent Reznor is a master of his craft and Hurt is considered one of NIN’s best songs. Imagine having this great hit and 8 years later a musical legend who hasn’t done anything great in a long time and is ostensibly dying takes your song and fucking. Just fucking obliterates you
Taken from the Wikipedia page. Even Trent Reznor said it’s not his song anymore.
in case you hadn’t seen
Holy hell that’s video is…painful and stunning. If you grew up listening to Johnny Cash I think it’ll hit even harder. And June Carter Cash is in the video, which takes hard and doubles it.
I’m glad people who didn’t know who are discovering it’s a cover, not just because Trent Reznor deserves that much, but because I think the fact that Cash did not write it is crucial to the power of his version. This is a young man’s song about suffering, about addiction and self-destruction in youth. And Cash is, in the most majestic possible way, taking that and going “oh kid, you have no idea”, and changes the meaning without changing the lyrics (except for a single word). In his voice, on his face, in his aged hands on the guitar and piano, it becomes about the agonising brevity of life, the irretrievability of mistakes, and the inevitable loss of everything, including a recognisable self. But the creativity of repurposing only shows if you can still see what was originally there.
Jet Set Radio fan redesigns part 1 with Beat and Gum
Another one finished! Jet Set Radio’s Bis (Mew in English) I’m going by the Japanese names, but I liked the tech cat ears on her headphones so I ended up referencing both.
If you’re wondering why I’m sticking to Japanese names, mainly because it means the next character I’m doing is named Corn
CORN! (or Tab in the English version of the Jet Set Radio games)
I’m sure some localizer was like “we can’t call this guy corn” but yes, yes you can, and it’s great.
Who of the original JSR crew should I dew next?
My fan redesign of COMBO from Jet Set Radio
Wanted to give him a more fun silhouette.
Jet Set Radio Cube fan redesign!
Also I forgot the paint splash on Combo, so posting that update here too.
this is a shitpost but I think it’s not THAT wrong. Most kink is either one of (or a combination of):
You get to play at having power over someone else. This is your dominance sorts of things, your sadisms, etc.
You get to play safely. You can play with scary things while knowing there’s safewords and a dom/top who loves you.
Feet. By which I mean, there’s some normal part of the human experience that your brain has for some reason fixated on. Maybe you’re into red hair, or glasses, or fluffy tails.
“safety” can also present as “useful”. You have some intrinsic value that cannot be taken from you (because of some sex/kink thing). The safety is from abandonment, because you’re useful, despite everything. And “useful” is a bunch of kinks (none of which I’m comfortable mentioning here).
oh no, animal ears are feet
yeah. cat ears are feet!
can someone turn this into the calvin’s dad dialogue
oh god, this is so obviously calvin’s dad dialogue that now I’m worried that I plagiarized it without realizing it
the two types of tumblr post are calvin’s dad and rule 34. all posts fall into one of these two categories. despite being kink-related, this post is actually calvin’s dad.
an episode of voyager which explores how so many of seven of nine’s biological functions would’ve been deemed superfluous by the borg so of course she experiences her first ever menstrual cycle aboard voyager. she doesn’t think she’s dying or anything she’s just like “ah yes a self-cleansing cycle of my now functioning reproductive system. how….displeasing.” cue the doctor performing his weekly check up and then offering painkillers and (admittedly helpful) advice. tom is in sickbay so he overhears and tries to give (way worse) advice about using the replicators for chocolate and other unnecessary expendable items. and because tom’s a loudmouth b'elanna finds out what’s going on and she and seven have a curt but well-meaning exchange in engineering where she gives seven a heating pad and more time to spend in cargobay 2 (seven is confused as to why her work is somehow deemed unsatisfactory for this week but she goes to cargobay 2 and just holds the heating pad in her hands). neelix doesn’t know much about human biology but he makes a soup that he claims has restorative properties which seven intensely doubts and refuses to eat. neelix only stops pestering her about the soup because harry steps in and tells him to back off. seven thanks him and then harry ruins the moment by awkwardly talking about how he has cousins who are girls and a mother who is a girl of course until seven, confused as to why he thinks any of that is relevant, just walks away. chakotay finds seven and asks if anyone is bothering her, queen? because he’s in charge of staff and word’s got to him of all this. seven says everything is fine and he leaves, which she appreciates. naturally this all gets back to the captain through the grapevine (tom) and through legitimate channels (chakotay). janeway waxes somewhat lyrical about how this must be an interesting time for seven in reconnecting with previously unknown aspects of her humanity even if it is somewhat mundane and unpleasant. meanwhile tuvok tries to convince everyone to leave seven the fuck alone because it’s a private affair and none of their business and he’s a king who knows to stay in his lane.
in the end it’s revealed by the doctor that, while everyone has been tying themselves in knots about this topic for a whole week, seven’s entire cycle took a grand total of two days and was relatively painless thanks to the borg nanoprobes suppressing her normal functions. b'elanna is pissed (jealous). janeway is vaguely congratulatory (also kind of jealous). tom, harry, and chakotay are just pleased to return to topics that are anything except this. tuvok stands in the corner and sighs at everyone. seven has found this an interesting study on human cultural practices that relate to various secretions. and neelix still doesn’t know what a period is.
(That would be 1,000,000,000,000,000, or 10^15, years from our time; or from the Big Bang, as there’s no difference on this scale.)
The Sun is long dead, and Earth is nothing but cosmic mist. In fact, the vast majority of stars are dead; and they can no longer form, as interstellar gas is long depleted. Only a few brown dwarfs and neutron stars remain, dimly glowing in infrared light. Black holes are everywhere, mostly formed by the collapse of large stars of the past, their gravity twisting spacetime on itself like a discarded napkin.
The Universe is a dark, cold place. Visible light, or of higher frequencies, only occurs in brief flashes when two dwarf stars collide by unfathomable chance, or when the smallest black holes evaporate into Hawking radiation. (The largest ones will last for a time immensely longer than has ever past.) What used to be a radiant galaxy has collapsed into a titan black hole with the mass of a trillion suns, surrounded by its smaller kin.
There are presumably many other galaxies yet, or their dark remains, but for all practical purposes there is only this one: cosmic expansion, ever accelerating, has brought all the others out of the observable Universe, rushing away faster than light can rush back (yes, that is possible, as cosmic expansion is not, strictly speaking, motion within space).
And yet.
And yet there is life: not the sort familiar to us, but vast schools of replicating Von Neumann probes, first created by a long-extinct civilization or by many, that have radiated across the dead Galaxy in a variety of forms that puts the Cambrian Explosion
to shame. They have hulls small as bacteria and large as moons, arrays of sensors that detect the feeblest scraps of energy. With their nanotechnological jaws they have consumed all stray matter, swallowed nebulae and consumed planets, stripmined entire solar systems, and often devoured their distant cousins.
They live in the vacuum a fraction of degree above 0, operating at extremely slow speed: it may take thousands of years for them to process a few bytes of information. Some feed on the infrared and microwaves exhalated by the last cooling stars, building immense solar arrays; others mine the rotational energy of black holes by driving scant mass just above the event horizon.
These are the nice ones: we may call them the Communities. They are the probes with forethought, which save some energy and set aside some matter for their future plans. They have intentions and manners, even personality: the last heirs of intelligent life in the Universe. They have each a place in a pattern of social interactions, favored and disfavored partners, pleasures and pains. They also live in constant isolation and terror, hiding deep into the gravitational folds of spacetime or cruising the void without rest, barely communicating with the neighbour Communities, whom they cannot quite ever trust.
The sources of such fear are the Swarms, which outnumber them a trillion to one. These are the probes that sacrificed everything for sheer replication, that never spend a single joule if not to build a copy of themselves. They have no awareness of themselves: it’s too expensive. Once they rampaged across the Galaxy like a wildfire, devouring all matter to the last picogram; but interstellar distances are long and empty. Now they’re almost all dormant, floating in the void like bacterial spores, awaiting for a few precious photons that could rouse them and direct them to the source. Until then, they wait.
The Communities are threatened from within as well as from without: it takes only a few errors of replication to abolish all functions not required for reproduction, creating a cancerous bubble that could consume a Community from within, and reshape its matter into a new mindless Swarm. Malwares stalk about as well, encrypting themselves in radio messages to jump from probe to probe, taking over their electronic brains for their own purposes; such as, say, broadcasting infected messages into all directions until the batteries run dry. Many are the countermeasures taken by the Communities against such dangers; unlike Swarms, they cannot overcome them by sheer number.
This state of affairs could continue, in theory, for a few trillion quadrillion years: after that, protons and neutrons will start to decay, and all tangible matter will simply dissipate into light particles and feeble heat. Even the black holes will eventually sublimate into waste energy, and the cosmos will return to that featureless void whence it came.
The probes know little of what came before; the stars were already dying in the heavens when they awoke at first. If their builders resided on planets, no trace of them can be left after the double devastation of the Swarms and gravity. If they could look back to the Age of Stars, they would see an incomprehensibly fast and bright burst of matter and radiant energy, a sort of aftershock of the Big Bang, the last moment of childhood before the true universe, that of black holes and Swarms, came to be.
How strange must it be to rest on solid ground, to look up at the sky, and to see it full of light.
sometimes i might post things? 38/m internet guy, commonly seen as [X-Rok], X_Rok, or just Rok for short. i play (and sometimes stream) video games, watch wrestling/MMA, and read webcomics, expect to see some of that here.
