“Weren’t you saying just last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”
“That’s settled. We’ll leave you to deal with the monster, Gilderoy. Your skills, after all, are legend.”
They know Lockhart is a fraud. But they’re perfectly willing to play along in bad faith just to humiliate him. At the cost of Ginny’s life.
So what’s their end goal here? They’ve given Lockhart an impossible task that he will ultimately fail. That much is certain. So they’re either forcing him to confess to his numerous wrongdoings, or run away in a cowardly manner. In either scenario, it throws his previous feats into question and cements his status as a fraud.
Okay, fine. Great. Now what about Ginny?
Thing is, they also know that there is most definitely a monster roaming the halls and preying on students. And it is clear from the blood soaked graffiti that Ginny is in grave danger. So why is there first priority to embarrass a colleague?
Snape and McGonagall both know that Lockhart won’t find the entrance. They know such a mission would only end in failure or disgrace. And they are perfectly content to let Ginny Weasley to die so they can enjoy the brief satisfaction of sticking it to a coworker.
Seems like the most asshole way to say “told ya so.”
Every Episode of Modern Family in a Nutshell
Person 1: Oh no, look! A bad thing just happened!
Person 2: Oh no!
Person 1: Did you cause this bad thing to happen?
Person 2: No, I had nothing to do with this bad thing.
Person 1: Okay. It’s just that when bad things like this have happened in the past, you were directly involved.
Person 2: I insist that I did not cause this bad thing to happen. Furthermore, I will get defensive, and claim to resent being blamed for this bad thing. Then I will go on the offensive and accuse you of being unfair. But I’m really just saying that to hide my guilt and insecurity.
Person 1: Okay, I will apologize and claim I believe you. But really I don’t. And I will spend the rest of the day looking for evidence that you were responsible for the bad thing because I am vengeful and petty.
Person 2: I will accept your apology. And I will spend the rest of my day going to greater and greater lengths to hide my involvement with the bad thing.
Person 1: Okay, see you then!
Person 2: Bye!
A few hours later…
Person 1: Hello again. I just wanted to apologize for blaming you—wait, what is that?
Person 2: What is what?
Person 1: It’s the bad thing again!
Person 2: No it isn’t.
Person 1: And look…there is evidence of the bad thing in your hand!
Person 2: I don’t know what you’re talking about. Also, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to play dumb but I will drag this out even longer.
Person 1: I knew it! You did the bad thing!
Person 2: Alright, you caught me. I did the bad thing.
Person 1: So then why did you lie about it?
Person 2: Because when I do bad things, I feel bad.
Person 1: We should just be open and talk about stuff from now on!
Person 2: You’re right.
…..
Person 1: Oh look, a sight gag!
HEY! HEY!
*BUM BUM BA-DUM BUM*
HEY! HEY!
*BUM BUM BA-DUM BUM*
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Picked this up as a guilty pleasure, why-the-hell-not kinda read. Plus my local used bookstore opened back up recently (shoutout to BMV Toronto!) and I wanted to send some cash their way.
Anyhow, I thought I was getting a vulgar, senseless mess that might entertain me for a couple hours. Turns out this one is making me think a great deal more than I thought it would.
Bomb Queen exists in a comic book universe that is very similar to open world video games like the Saints Row series (and GTA to a lesser extent). She is the villainous ruler of New Port City, a New York analog with the debauchery settings cranked up to 10. Heroes have come and gone, and the federal government has given up trying to restore order. Instead they give Bomb Queen free rule, as long as she keeps the mayhem within city limits. Like the aforementioned titles, New Port City exists in it’s own little sandbox. It’s excessively violent, riddled with crime, and it’s a gamer’s dream come true.
We are introduced to Bomb Queen at the height of her villainous career. The big bosses of New Port City have been defeated. She has out-leveled everything else on the map, so her power goes unchecked and her reign of terror goes unimpeded. Bomb Queen is like a Player Character who has completed the main quest line and is looking for any bit of excitement to stay entertained. She is basically an uninhibited and sadistic gamer immersed in a world of her own making. She is us.
It’s fitting that the city’s initials are NPC. In Bomb Queen’s eyes, the citizens of New Port City are just NPCs (non-player characters in video game speak). They are disposable and interchangeable background characters who can be killed without consequence. Let’s be honest, if you’ve played any RPG or action-adventure game, at some point you’ve gone on an indiscriminate killing spree just for fun. And Bomb Queen is no different. Not only do her violent actions rarely come with repercussions, but her trademark rampages have vaulted her to celebrity status. She has been playing by her own rules for so long that the game has changed and the world has been corrupted. The NPCs have not only adapted to their precarious existence, but they’ve learned to thrive in this world of mayhem and criminal indulgence. I’m not sure if Jimmie Robinson meant to draw that particular parallel to video games, but in my mind it works perfectly.
Anyhow, this collection won’t resonate with everyone I’m sure. Maybe you’ll see it as a heaping pile of trash, and I wouldn’t convince you otherwise. Robinson pushes the limits of good taste whenever he can, and the book can be pretty gross at times. But maybe you’ll find something fascinating about this book. Something strange yet familiar. Satisfying, yet uncomfortable. And then you’ll have a nice long think about a book you thought was just going to be boobies and explosions.
View all my reviews
All these people are thinking the Game of Thrones team messed up by leaving a Starbucks cup in the shot. They don’t realize Starkbucks is an established part of the story’s lore! Here are a few of the beverages available at the Winterfell-based café.
I guess you could liken a Horcrux to a sex hookup. It’s a very intimate experience, giving something a piece of your soul. But free? Sorry Tumblr porn account, that’s the part I can’t agree with. I mean, it doesn’t cost you any money to procure a vessel, sure. But you have to murder someone. And that is a terrible price to pay to create a Horcrux.
Well, this is certainly one of the looser interpretations of the Dursley Horcrux theory. I mean, I’m not saying there isn’t a correlation between Horcruxes and hard nipples. But I need to be sold on the idea.
When your Instagram error message ends up giving you practical life advice.
“You have a past? How dare you.”
Fan Theory: The Magic School Bus & Harry Potter Exist in the Same Universe
The Magic School Bus and Harry Potter are beloved stories that chronicle the adventures of school children being put in harm’s way by irresponsible adults. But with magic! The similarities go far beyond that, though. There is a good deal of evidence to suggest that both schools – Walkerville Elementary and Hogwarts – exist in the same universe.
Walkerville desperately fills a need for wizarding elementary school
Growing up magical isn’t easy. Kids have to learn a shit ton of spells before they can function in the wizarding world. If you enter the workforce and the only spell you’ve remembered is Alohomora, you’ll be stuck working the door at a hotel lobby the rest of your life. You’ll be a senior citizen’s dream, but practically useless when the Dark Lord shows up.
Hogwarts has no choice but to build a curriculum that focuses exclusively on magic. Because the wizarding world is averaging a civil war every 14 years and your life may very well depend on the degree to which you can perform a defensive spell or spot a potentially disastrous potion. And yes, that leaves little room for math and science in the curriculum, as so many people like to point out. But who gives a shit? Everything you need to know about math and science is pretty much covered by grade five anyway.
That is precisely why magical elementary school exists. That is how we ended up with schools like Walkerville Elementary. Here, prospective Ilvermorny students are given practical knowledge about the muggle world. They learn basic math, science, biology, astronomy, natural history, and for some reason, what the inside of Arnold’s asshole looks like. All of the things their wizarding school won’t have time for. Best of all, they’ll have a janitor nearby in case one of the students accidentally blows up a teacher or releases a python.
The idea behind elementary wizarding school to give students a basic understanding of how things work, before teaching them how things change.
Ms. Frizzle’s class is small because it reflects the magical population
Figuring out the population of a fictional universe is a difficult undertaking. Fortunately, the Harry Potter fandom is full of people who laugh in the face of adversity. Here is one such hero’s essay about the population of the wizarding world that delves into greater detail:
http://www.fictionalley.org/authors/commendatore/HMHATAEOTPOWB01.html
Pretty impressive, right? By her own admission, J.K. Rowling isn’t great at math. Nevertheless, when she claims that 1000 students are attending Hogwarts at any one time, we have to take that as the gospel truth. Based on that statement, and after some crafty math by user commendatore over at www.fictionalley.org, we can postulate that approximately 0.0194% of Great Britain’s population is magical. Applying the same ratio to North America, we can put the wizarding population at around 100,000.
Thus, we end up with schools like Walkerville Elementary, where there aren’t enough students to fill out a classroom but enough to warrant one. That’s why Ms. Frizzle’s entire 3rd grade class contains just 8 students and the parking lot usually looks like a ghost town. And not the fun kind where Headless Hunts take place.
Students are introduced to magic via practical lessons
At Walkerville Elementary, magic is used primarily as a teaching aid. Students aren’t thrown into the world of spell mastery just yet. Accidental magic, as we know, is common among underage wizards. So Ms. Frizzle surrounds her class with magic and slowly immerses them into this world that, at the age of 8, is still relatively new to them.
Ilvermorny students don’t receive a wand until their first day of school, which is why Walkerville students are introduced to various forms of wandless magic. This is a common occurrence in America, where Native American witches and wizards have been practicing wandless magic for centuries: http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Native_Americans
We do see a few examples of students accidentally using magic to bewitch various items. In one episode, the students attempt to build a robot, despite having no knowledge of engineering whatsoever. Nevertheless, after stacking together some discarded items, Ralphie issues a verbal command (incantation is perhaps a better word for it) and the unplugged trash golem magically springs to life.
We see similar forms of magic in both worlds
In the wizarding world, time travel can be attained by using a Time Turner. You know, that handy bit of magical technology that allows students to learn two subjects at once while genocidal wizards roam free. Over at Walkerville Elementary, they’ve got a Time Turner too: The Bus. So what does Ms. Frizzle’s class do when they have the ability to go back in time? They go way the fuck back in time! Because obviously!
The students are Transfigured on a regular basis, taking the form of bats, salmon, and bees, just to name a few. In the wizarding world, we see that wizards can transfigure themselves into horrifying human/animal hybrids in a similar manner.
And speaking of transforming into animals, let’s not forget those Animagi. Hey Liz, those are very human gestures for something that is supposed to be just an average chameleon. No, that’s a woman who took the form of a chameleon then decided life was better when people just fed you all day and you didn’t have to speak with them. Or hey, maybe she’s a criminal who’s hiding out in a grade 3 classroom until things cool down a bit. Either way, great job on blowing your cover, Liz!
Another notable similarity between the two worlds is moving paintings of deceased witches and wizards. The ones in Walkerville don’t seem too keen to talk to kids. I don’t blame them.
We also see magically transforming fabrics. I’m not sure what spell this is, but Ms. Frizzle and Dumbledore use it purely to screw around with school children.
There is even a living skeleton in the classroom. I guess kids have to learn about necromancy at some point. You know, if the Inferi had top hats and polka dot bow ties, I don’t think they would’ve looked nearly as terrifying.
Enchanted vehicles are common in the wizarding world
The mechanical and the magical are often deeply intertwined in the wizarding world. The Hogwarts Express is able to traverse vast landscapes without being seen. Arthur Weasley’s invisible flying car and Sirius Black’s flying motorcycle serve to show, if nothing else, that wizards love enchanting the crap out of vehicles.
We even see the Potterverse’s version of the Magic School Bus: The Knight Bus. I could base my theory on this fact alone, and still feel pretty confident. It’s just a bigger, purpler version of the Friz’s ride that transports vagrants instead of students. The Knight Bus changes its appearance and dimensions in a way so similar to the Magic School Bus that it’s practically copyright infringement.
Come on, Ms. Frizzle is obviously a witch
Ms. Frizzle’s primary talents involve commanding an enchanted bus and changing her clothing at will. If that was the extent of her magical ability, then the case could still be made that she is a decent witch. While the Bus is responsible for the majority of the show’s magic, Ms. Fizzle is seen on numerous occasions performing obvious spellwork even when the Bus is absent.
For example, here is Ms. Frizzle appearing out of nowhere in a way that looks very similar to the wizarding world’s Apparating ability.
Here she is, gliding to safety after jumping out of a third-storey window to rescue a fallen student. She might not know what qualifies as child endangerment, but it looks like she knows how to conjure an Arresto Momentum spell.
Here’s The Frizz riding a tidal wave that she conjured out of nowhere using a powerful Aguamenti charm, because impressing a group of 8-year-olds is important to her. That water, in case you were wondering, disappeared immediately after her dramatic entrance was made.
You don’t have to look too hard to find connections between both magical worlds. I personally looked into it way too hard, but that’s so the rest of you can just sort of skim through and spot the similarities. Now that you’ve seen them it’s a pretty easy theory to subscribe to.
Overused Phrases That Should Just Fucking Die Already Power Rankings
The world is full of canned phrases, perfect for those times when you don’t feel like carrying on a meaningful conversation. Just toss out some commonly accepted idioms, wait for the other dead-eyed person to return a couple of their own, and move on. Some bullshit phrases every now and again are absolutely necessary, but these ones have lost all meaning and just deserve to die. Let’s count ‘em down.
5. “Fancy seeing you here!”
Why It Needs To Die
This is the pre-packaged response for when you randomly bump in to someone you know in public. If you’re anything like me, you are in most cases woefully underprepared for these encounters. So your brain pulls some dialogue from your internal stock library and out comes “fancy seeing you here.” This process uses up fewer mental resources and prevents you from blurting out things like, “oh fuck, now I’ve got to make small talk!”
There’s nothing fancy about it; You happened upon another human you’ve met before. If anything, it is a cruel twist of fate that has jarred you out of your natural rhythm and into a strained conversation with a person who you didn’t like enough to make plans with, despite the fact that you’re going to the same goddamn place at the exact same time. Let’s stop bigging it up.
Suitable Replacements
“Oh fuck, now I’ve got to make small talk!” Why not? Toss in a cheeky grin and the person might appreciate your candor and/or unusual sense of humour. Heck, if you say it with a straight face they might even take the hint.
“Hello person I know! Let us exchange brief pleasantries and part ways!”
4. “I need [something] yesterday!”
Why It Needs To Die
I’ll admit I’m being a little nitpicky here. On a Venn Diagram, this one would appear in the overlap between “stupid office expressions” and “things that people in their 50′s say.″ As it so happens, I spend my workday surrounded by Boomers and that’s as specific as I’d like to be.
While I don’t hear this clunker very often, I’m thrown into an irrational fury when I do. Irrational in that I try to explain the general concept of time travel to the person, accuse them of sounding ridiculous, then become furious when they fail to grasp my logic. And once they’re out of earshot I grumble to myself about how humanity would probably just waste time travel on menial office work anyway.
I think I effectively summed it up a few years back with some crude imagery and a little Doctor Who copyright infringement.
Suitable Replacements
Fuck that. We don’t need any more office buzz words.
3. “Breakfast of Champions”
Why It Needs To Die
Back in the 1930′s, Wheaties cereal was branded as the “breakfast of champions.” Since then, the term has been broadened to refer to any kind of meal, of any size, eaten by anyone, at any point in the morning, regardless of – or in direct reference to – the meal’s suitability as an actual breakfast. In other words, it doesn’t matter what you’re eating anymore.
Now there was a time when this line was used as be an ironic jab at someone eating an inadequate breakfast. For example:
Me: Hey there, what are you eating?
Coworker: A granola bar I found under my car seat.
Me: Oh, breakfast of champions!
Not terribly inventive and a little lazy but it serves a purpose. Maybe it’s even a little funny if you haven’t had a decent laugh in a while. Then again, if your coworker’s breakfast consists of found food, they shouldn’t be made to feel worse about their life choices than they already do. So yes, in that regard I’m kind of a dick for saying it.
But it’s those times when you could answer literally anything, and still be met with that same stupid response, that is truly infuriating.
Coworker: Hey there, what are you eating?
Me: Just some oatmeal and a banana.
Coworker: Oh, breakfast of champions!
Okay. What sort of statement is being made? Am I supposed to take that as a playful dig on my lack of originality or a compliment on a somewhat decent meal? But really, the only commentary being made here is, “I’m seeing you eating and I don’t know what else to say.” This expression has become devoid of meaning, so let’s just agree to let it die. It doesn’t yield a strong return on investment to justify keeping it around. At best, you’re a marginally clever dick. At worst, you’re willfully contributing to the downfall of the English language.
Suitable Replacements
“It looks like you’re eating, so I’m going to leave you alone.”
Mind your own goddamn business about what people put in their bodies, maybe?
2. “Opa!”
Why It Needs To Die
You’re out at a restaurant and enjoying a nice meal when you hear the sound of a glass breaking. You tense up, dreading what comes next. The volume of the room lowers ever so slightly, as people begin to clue in. For one brief, glorious moment, you think you’ll be spared. But then, cutting through the din of the room, comes the inevitable outburst of some attention-starved patron: Opa!
Fuck!
To those of you who jump at the chance to use this expression, I get it, really. For an instant you get to bask in the glory of being a standup comedian. You get to demonstrate your perfect comedic timing and elicit laughter from a group of strangers by using just one silly word. You feel awesome, probably (I wouldn’t know, I’ve never made anyone laugh). Except you’re less of a comedian and more like a Pavlovian dog that responds to shattering dinnerware. You said the thing that people usually say, and you’re about the millionth person to have done so since last Tuesday. So maybe just leave this one out of your repertoire. Or better still, leave the comedy to the professionals.
Suitable Replacement
This:
The second you hear glass shatter, before those Opa fuckers have a chance to pipe up, bust into a rendition of this. Mimicking the screeching electric guitar of Stone Cold Steve Austin’s entrance theme is still pretty obnoxious, but at least it doesn’t make you want to impale your eardrums with a butter knife.
1. “It is what it is.”
Why It Needs To Die
Sometimes you find yourself in the position where you have absolutely nothing to contribute to the conversation. And that’s okay. When a conversation moves towards cars or the housing market, I absently nod my head and begin mentally sorting Game of Thrones characters into their likeliest Hogwarts Houses (if you don’t have Ser Barristan Selmy in Hufflepuff then what I don’t know what the hell you have been watching). The point is, realizing your uselessness is key.
You see, when you respond with this godawful phrase, you’re really just saying, “I have nothing relevant to say, but I’d like you to think I’m making an observation.” This bullshit statement pretty much always gets a pass. People will just nod in response, letting you walk away without any consequences. Well, I’m not other people. I’m an irritable man with a Tumblr blog and I’m holding you accountable for your bullshit.
Hey you. Person who occasionally says “it is what it is.” You’re not shit, but sometimes your word choices are. DO BETTER.
As a statement of exasperation or futility, “fuck it” works a lot better. Cussing is funnier anyway. Also, don’t just mechanically recite it as a means of ending the conversation. Say or do anything else. Silently nod then disengage. Pretend to doff your cap and say “good day.” Shout “smoke bomb!” then bolt out of the room. Anything you can think of. Anything that doesn’t equate to “that thing is that thing, ho-hum.”
When you can swap out a phrase with absolutely nothing and have it convey the same meaning, that phrase is absolutely fucking worthless.
Suitable Replacements
Anything else.
Total fucking silence.