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Aarrow Reviews (Master List)

A pinned list of my reviews covering a variety of topics:

Dungeon Meshi + text posts

I'm well aware America doesn't come close to fulfilling it's promises (I've long stopped saying "this is not who we are" and instead shifted to "this is not who we should be."), but it makes me extra angry to think, as we approach the 250th anniversary of a it as a country, we currently have a president of the type that the founding fathers specifically set out to prevent and many of whom would beat with a stick.

Like, demagogues were one of the things they specifically feared and were trying to set up enough checks and balances to prevent.

#us politics

What perhaps is a sentence never before spoken until earlier today: "Fucking Taylor Swift is contaminating my random anime vibe."

This is, of course, a reference to the annoying tendency for the like one album I've ripped to have tracks pop up while on full shuffle. Now for context, please understand my full shuffle is something like 24 THOUSAND songs with a slow and steady growth as I rip and standardize the metadata for the CDs my parents own.

(As a further explanatory aside, I've finally convinced them to put music on their devices for use in their cars. However, their technical skills for such things like ripping a CD are sorely lacking and it falls to me to be the millennial IT department. Furthermore, while I've already ripped many albums of theirs, I've only gotten truly set on standardized metadata since I've rounded up all the music onto my NAS and so many are lost in the "Unsorted" folder. So I've been taking trays from their CD cabinet and ripping or confirming files (if I can find them) to have them for their use (and my own, there's little I don't listen to).

(Meanwhile, I've also been getting anime OSTs from a friend who's been propping up the trade deficit with Japan to fuel her new otaku-ness.)

#music

writing-prompt-s

You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.

captain-acab

You decide it’s best to find out what you can about this person. Cautiously, you approach his desk. He’s a handsome man, tall, but with a disarming smile. How could such a friendly guy with such cute, dorky glasses be dangerous?

You extend your hand. “I noticed you’re new here. What’s your name?”

He shakes your hand warmly. His gaze is piercing, as if he’s looking right through you. “The name’s Clark,” he says. “So, how long have you worked for the Daily Planet?”

misscrazyfangirl321

This one wins.

janothar

It’s been a few weeks, and one of Clark’s friends shows up. She’s pretty and all, enough muscle that she must work out. First thought would be that she should be maybe a 6.

Clark’s introducing her around. “This is my good friend, Diana, she’s in from out of town.”

You blink, and take a step back in fear. You’ve never seen an 11 before.

aniseandspearmint

The day Bruce Wayne shows up for his long promised interview with Lois Lane, you can’t help it, the mug your holding drops from your fingers and sends a shock of hot coffee and ceramic shards across the floor.

Clark stops a few feet away and squints at you worriedly from behind those ridiculous glasses you’re 99% sure he doesn’t actually need, and asks tentatively, “Everything all right?”

You ignore him in favor of staring at the inky dark numerals hovering over the beaming fool gesticulating some fantastic yacht story for a gaggle of secretaries and minor columnists.

That’s it. Your gift has officially gone haywire. There is no other explanation. Because there is absolutely no way that Brucie Wayne is a 10.

petitstar

At this point, you’ve seen it all. Miled manner reporters and billionaires at a 10 and a model-like woman at 11. You were really starting to doubt your power. The day you really stopped believeing in it was when Bruce Wayne came for another visit, and this time with a kid. The kid couldn’t be more than 10 years old, a bit on the short side.

He was an 8.

lainathewitch

The day you started believing in it again was when you saw on tv the formation of something called the justice league.

There were those same numbers over superman, batman, wonder woman and robin. That’s when you put two and two together. You wonder how nobody at the daily planet noticed that Clarke was Superman with glasses. You wonder why you didn’t notice. You wonder why nobody put two and two together that Diana Prince and Wonder Woman looked exactly the same. You look in the mirror as the realization hit you and you see your own number change from a 3 to a 9.

ribbonsflyingoutthewindow

I don’t think I’ve ever actually reblogged this magnificent post and that’s shame.

lucian-v-ghost

They were going to find out eventually, what with metahumans becoming more commonplace, but you hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

What you had expected was Batman crashing through the window of your appartament, or Superman lasering your building in half.

But in hindsight, you hadn’t been doing a very good job of hiding your newfound knowledge, flinching every time Clark walked into the room, or switching the channel evertime you saw Bruce Wayne on TV with another of his adopted children, all of which seemed to range from 7 to 9.

The thing that had worried you most though was the fact that your own number hadn’t stopped going up. Somehow you had started seeing decimals and at 10.98, you were reaching your breaking point. You didn’t know if that meant hiding under a blanket for a good few weeks, or going rogue and turning into a supervillain.

And now you were here. Having coffee with Clark Kent, Diana Prince and Brucie “Party boy” Wayne.

Clark and Diana had cornered you at the Planet about half an hour beforehand. Well, cornered might be a strong word, but you had felt a bit trapped when Clark Kent had put his hand on your shoulder and nonchalantly asked if wanted to go out for coffee. Diana had looked over her shoulder as you walked through the offices and smiled at you. You couldn’t tell if it was to placate you or make you faint in fear.

They’d led you out into the streets of Metropolis, and for a moment you had thought about making a break for it, till you spied another 10 across the street, a one Victor Stone, posing for an autograph with a fan.

A block or two later and you arrive at a small, brightly lit coffee shop. It’s nice, floral arrangements across a large window box and the warm sound of laughter from inside. As you enter with Clark and Diana however, your blood chills. The room is filled with 9’s, 10’s, even one or two additional 11’s.

They’re posing like average customers, but you recognise a few big names. Zatarra, a stage show magician who hasn’t made a public appearance in quite some time. Oliver Queen, sitting at the same table as Brucie Wayne and, if you’re not mistaken from the snippets of the Gotham Gazzette you’ve managed to read in your off time, one Dr. Harleen Quinzel.

It’s all a little much as you slide into the seat Clark pulls out for you. You can feel your muscles shaking, like a fight or flight response that hasn’t decided what to do yet.

The cafe suddenly grows quite as Clark and Diana sit down. A 9 by the door flips the sign to closed. Brucie Wayne siddles on over wearing heart shaped pink sunglasses that are obviously Dr. Quinzels, and sits down. You can’t help the nervous laughter that bubbles out of your chest at the absurdity of the situation, before you clamp a hand over your mouth in horror.

You just laughed at Batman.

You’re so dead.

#comics #prose

peoplegettingreallymadatfurries

Stealing this concept

Would you rather be the only person in the world to turn into your fursona OR have everyone in the world turn into furries except you?

Make me the exclusive furry

Be the only non-fur

Remaining time: 11 hours 55 minutes

No see results option. You gotta choose by this time next week or else

aarrowom

Not the split I'd have expected, to be honest.

#poll

dyk-tv-theme-song

Visit Original Link

Do you recognize this TV theme song? #578

I know this and can name the series

I know this but can't name the series

I might know this

I've never heard this

Voting ended onMay 16

dyk-tv-theme-song

Series: .Hack//Sign (2002)

Artist: SEE-SAW

aarrowom

Dammit, missed another good one.

thememedaddy

aarrowom

OK yeah, I'll scroll back up to reblog that.

#pun #mythology

invinciblerodent

you guys are so right, I should have added the best part

askrobouteguilliman40k

This meme ages like a fine wine every year that passes.

bloodgulchblog

choose your fighter seat and explain your work

bloodgulchblog

excellent reasoning shonks 10/10.

alternate joke response: i think what happens is you sit next to sloan and you figure out that this is all a simulation and he congratulates you on making the correct choice and the next couple of pargraphs are in second person and contain the word "flenses"

#halo

fishing-princess

I Defeated the Demon Lord but it Turns Out the Demon Army was Largely Unaffected and I Fell Victim to a Flawed Belief in Great Man Theory

leftcosine

I Executed The Demon Lord With One Flawless Strike And After A Brief Power Struggle The New Demon Government Is Substantially More Committed To The War Because Of Some Reason I Don't Know

youremysunshine8

ART and SecUnit are like: time is but a number... With our multiple feeds, incomprehensible to humans, we have danced together for a hundred years (inside SecUnit's parts), seen galaxies rise and fall (in the entertainment feed), and had those deep conversations that really allow for understanding (threatening to delete each other's brains).

Arada: that's nice. So how long have you known each other...?

ART: Two, maybe three weeks.

SecUnit: I was unconscious for a couple of those days too.

Arada: that's quite a whirlwind

SecUnit: I mean I agreed to let it do surgery on me after 2 days.

ART: I don't hold it against you. With your slow processing power, you needed the extra time.

#the murderbot diaries #art #Murderbot #perihelion

dyk-tv-theme-song

Visit Original Link

Do you recognize this TV theme song? #570

I know this and can name the series

I know this but can't name the series

I might know this

I've never heard this

Voting ended onMay 13

dyk-tv-theme-song

Series: Dark Shadows (1966-1971)

Composer: Robert Cobert

aarrowom

Aww, missed another easy one for me.

#music #Dark Shadows

a-mel0n

reblog if you’ve had an online friendship that’s lasted more than 2 years

sharp-tender-shock-deactivated2

This is a comment someone appended to a photo of two men apparently having sex in a very fancy room, but it’s also kind of an amazing two-line poem? “His Wife has filled his house with chintz” is a really elegant and beautiful counterbalancing of h, f, and s sounds, and “chintz” is a perfect word choice here—sonically pleasing and good at evoking nouveau riche tackiness. And then “to keep it real I fuck him on the floor” collapses that whole mood with short percussive sounds—but it’s still a perfect iambic pentameter line, robust and a lovely obscene contrast with the chintz in the first line. Well done, tumblr user jjbang8

headspace-hotel

I hate that my aesthetic sense agrees with this but everything you just said was correct

headspace-hotel

I went back to dig up this post because I was thinking about poetry.

This is one of those non-poem things that are among my favorite poems.

As the OP stated, the use of alliterative consonants is aesthetically just great, especially the placement of the strongest use at the end: “fuck him on the floor.” The use of “chintz” is indeed great word choice.

Because I’m insane, decided to scan the poem:

Not only is the second sentence, indeed, perfect iambic pentameter, the entire poem is perfectly metered, though the first sentence has four iambs rather than five.

There are further things I love about this poem, though: I like the casual connotations of “keep it real” juxtaposed with “chintz.” It causes me to interpret the “chintz” more strongly as meaning something fake, a facade. There is also of course the coarseness of “fuck,” which is a contrast with “chintz” but a different kind of contrast, gutsy and carnal where “chintz” is flimsy and inanimate.

And then there is the storytelling: there is SO MUCH storytelling in just these two lines. To break it down: The speaker is having sex with a married man, in the house he shares with his wife, which is “filled with chintz”—something that here connotes fakeness, in contrast with “keep it real.”

The illicit encounter in the poem takes place within a house filled with facade, the flimsy construction of the wife’s marriage and domestic sphere, but the encounter itself is a taste of something “real.” That’s a story, and it’s just two lines.

This is EIGHTEEN SYLLABLES, y’all. The amount of meaning condensed into these eighteen syllables is stunning, and it is so elegantly done.

From a technical standpoint (and ive taken 300- and 400-level poetry classes so I can say this) this is damn near flawless as a poem.

agent-octopus

Kept thinking about this ever since I saw it and had to do something

headspace-hotel

there's art now

jetlaggingbehind

questions-within-questions

Ah dang to go further; the floor is framed as a refuge. As if there is literally no other space in this house that hasn't been populated by his wife with flimsy inanimate fakery. There is no space for this man in this house save for the floor. There is no space for him on the sofa, oon the counter tops, and most notably, no space for him in the marital bed.

normal-horoscopes

I’d also like to point out the use of the word “has.” The wife has filled the house with chintz. She isn’t filling the house with chintz. She doesn’t fill the house with chintz. She has filled the house with chintz. Use of the past-tense makes the wife a subtly removed element in the story, someone whose presence we see in the environment, but who is blissfully distant during the actors throes of passion. There is an element of physical as well as emotional separation from the wife that is catalyzed by being fucked on the floor. Use of the past tense is an end to the wife presence in the actors life, a carnal catharsis amid cold fragility and emotional distance.

stargazing-enby

This is my new favourite post in the world

astronomical-bagel

everyone cheer for the one (1) time tumblr had reading comprehension

trekkiesagainstchastity

And, predictably, it's because it was about gay sex

#poetry

the-goddamn-robot

Damn, Rome really looks great in all four seasons

Winter

Spring

Summer

Fall

ba7raltawil

oh my GOD

yomikoreadsbooks

As long as I’ve been on this site, I honestly should have seen this coming a mile away and yet…

#Rome

femme-foucault

Gentiles/non-Jews of Tumblr, how well did you do in the quiz on Judaism 101 linked below?

0

1-4

5-9

10-14

15-20

21-25

26-31

32 :)

I’m Jewish/show results

Voting ended onMay 20

This is the quiz and I did not come up with it, credit goes to @iswearbyalltheflowers on this post.

Absolutely no judgment, I’m genuinely really curious and I figured more people would answer anonymously here than on the original post.

aarrowom

Jewish and 23/32 for me. But! considering I never went to Hebrew school and all I know I've picked up over the years at Hillel services or religious discussions, I think I did pretty well.

#Judaism

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