EA48: Heavy Rotation

I plan on adding to this, but for now: Please prepare for a very idol future.
– ♥, Nabocchan

In the grim darkness of 2016, there is only idol.
The dictatorship of EA48 spans from the shifting western border of China to the easternmost islands of Japan, its tendrils stretching into the ruins of Russia and India.
The greatest minds in idol music criticism had gotten it fatally wrong. Talent agencies weren't serving the Japanese government's agenda. The government worked for the idol groups.
Did they even know? It's difficult to say now. Things changed very quickly.
December 31, 2015: In an unprecedented move, AKB48 unveils a surprise rerelease of Heavy Rotation. This new edition is televised nationwide and broadcast internationally via the internet. Within thirty hours of listening, all who are exposed have either expressed a desire to surrender themselves fully to idol rule and spread the song further or have died of some sort of mental trauma.
It would seem that someone in the States knew about this plan. Youtube Red was implemented in late October to block AKB48 videos, a last-ditch effort. Whoever designed it probably thought they had saved most of America. Maybe it was the last thing they thought. It would be a merciful oblivion.
But fansubbers proved tenacious, and within two weeks reuploaded videos were blaring from every street corner in every country. Populations moved blindly toward Japan in great exoduses, plunging into oceans and dying of starvation in the billions.
Only one demographic has proven resistant to the broadcasts: other idols. Could their marketability coaching or opposing collective identities have accidentally functioned to build defenses? Could it anyone have planned such a thing?
Regardless of reason, these idol units have roamed the East Asian territory seeking recruits, forming factional alliances, and above all trying to survive. Most have already been eliminated or absorbed back into the EA48 machine.
In a world of idols ruling over idols, Team Shachihoko's Capital Relocation Plan may be the last hope at toppling EA48. Even now the Nagoya-based operation nears its final stages...

Con Advice

Please enjoy this anonymously submitted convention advice.

Here. Look, I'm posting it. Please stop sending this in.
– ♥, Nabocchan

So I'm three buffalo wings away from midnight and I see some sort of poppin corn man selling corns loaded with Japanese peels and far-off salts. Well naturally I'm jonesin' for a bag so I toss him three fifty and three hours later I'm retching through my hands into a mug with my face on it. Turns out I thought I'm allergic to chilis. Turns out I'm a hypochondriac.

All I'm saying is you gotta be careful when you Persephone around the Naruto counter because you're never going home, you get what I mean, you're never going home. And when you end up at the reception with pockets full of vinyl asking where everyone went you're not going home, right.

Listen. Some things in life are important. Drink your waters. Pack folded clothes. Don't step around front of cars en route, right. But you have to know when there's a line and when you have to draw it and how to draw it. You have to stand up and say why is my phone full of little buzzing demons and where are the digits.

Stuff like that. Wine-dark sea, right.

Yeah, I've tasted a number 'n odd of pages in my lifetime. But let me tell you, that don't mean much when you're doin' the opposite of eating in a Marriott parking lot and the lil' soccer sportsmen won't stop starin'. Don't mean a lot in that real world, right.

You've gotta have a plan, right. A mode d' attack. Don't you be caught lollygaggin' up that hill all twainsy-turvsey. And stay away from the Halloweeners and Narutoids. They're never coming home.

2 stong character become a friend

COLLABORATION BY NABOKOV-CHAN AND BOTCHAN-CHAN


Htis is how kirby become a friend with master chief and how master chief get into super smash brothers

Mister chef is walking on the halo planet and he see light in sky.

I see light in sky", master chief. His face is frown but no one can see because his helmet.

"I must go and see what has caused me to see the light in the sky. I must go and see Investigate."
He take gun because he is Dangerous.

Light is Kirby on his pop star entering the atmosphere of the master chief planet. Kirby wave.

"Hi" Kirby wave.

"Hi Kirby" master chief nod.

But then aliens attack. Covenants come in big soaceships.

"Oh no" master chief shoot covenants but he run out of bullets.

"I am out of bullet". Master Chief.


"We need Gun" say kirby and then he eat the gun and become hte Gun.

"Bang bang" say kirby and He Shoot. He shoot many bullet and never run out and never give up and shoot all the covenants with the bullet he shoot.

"Wow say master chef good job. Good job shooting all the covenants."

"I come from game super smash brothers" answer Kirby with smile.

Come join he ask.

Ok say mister chief.

And he John.

Ad Nauseam

Did you know that you can name an anime series by producing basically any combination of sounds or words? Like, here:  Sword of Smärgnrl. Kokoro no Béchamel. Susume! Ghaghspgnh.
It's true, and it's awful.
– ♥, Nabocchan

It seems I've woken up on the floor again. The sun is just a little too bright this morning too, stabbing into the back of my skull. I try to roll over and the motion compresses my stomach, forcing vomit over the front of my shirt and onto the carpet.

I sit up straight in anticipation of more, and the idea hits me alongside the second wave of retching: Kiriko. There hasn't been one of those yet.

Brushing last night's cans off my desk, I begin the character sketch. It seems pigtail-types are on a resurgence this year, but I need something edgier. Definitely straight-bangs. And if I'm foregoing pigtails, I'd better have the breasts to back up the mature angle; maybe blonde hair to add some exoticism?

Kiriko will be a... solider. Who was recruited via video games. To fight aliens. With a special glowing M16 sword polearm thing. Maybe I can get some deal with the army, like a run of recruitment posters or something.

I'm out of cola but the whiskey bottle still contains a respectable amount. It would be a shame to waste it, so I drink my breakfast from a fast food cup.

Of course. She needs some distinguishing feature. Like an eyepatch. Except maybe that's too rough. An eyepatch... to conceal a differently colored eye. Which she's self-conscious about. Maybe because she has alien powers due to a tragic backstory? Heterochromia is a reliable flair, but it alone doesn't quite have the same marketability as other niche fetishes.

Maybe she lost an arm so she has a mechanical one, but out of habit she uses her feet to compensate. That hits a couple more demographics.

Her love interest and allies will be easy enough. Just take a few tried-and-true character traits, add a sexy body and some little idiosyncrasy and you can create anyone. For example: the sniper is a cute young-looking girl with pigtails and a verbal tick of ending sentences with ban. It doesn't have to mean anything, just exist. And we'll give her a knife strapped to her chest so pictures get passed around the internet like, “whoa, can you believe this cute girl has a knife?”.

I reach around and find some cold fries.

The thing about creating a niche market is, they like to think they're on some avant garde of consumerism. So you've gotta give them some stuff to know that others don't. Like the ban or that Kiriko's whole unit was wiped out. We'll show her being captured to give that whole pathetic appeal thing.

I stumble outdoors in search of lunch and end up dining al fresco in the park. KFC and a six pack: my standard fare. The shitty teenager at the counter was acting like I stank again—I guess I should have showered, but I have more important things to think about. The creation of art must take priority over everything else: I'm trying to make something timeless, and I think I'm onto something big.

Oh, right. I need a message. Uh, love and friendship conquer everything right? And as we long as we believe in ourselves and our friends like Kiriko we too can kill aliens. Our problems, that is. It's metaphorical.

HIDDEN ANIME SECRET MANGAKAS DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW!!

Welp, Nabocchan's been doing a great job maintaining this site while I've been doing nothing. I, Aleximander, Commander of the 32nd Squadron, the Vanguard of Heaven, the King of Angels, have returned to your mortal plane with a story to tell.

I heard this from a man who had no right left to live. You see he had read a tale my angelic hand had written.  Unable to cope with the fiction of an Ethereal Lord he promptly went mad. Curious at his ramblings I wrote down his words. The man later committed suicide by sawing at his neck with a broken CD, the words "MAKE ME IDEAL" scrawled upon it. Whatever the CD was originally made for, I'm glad it served a useful function in the end.

-Aleximander

In my meanderings through life I have discovered one essential truth. A Truth that shatters the chains that bind our society together. Chains that, once unbound, threaten the very plane of reality itself. 

All anime is connected.

I discovered this truth only by watching over seventy gigs of pirated anime (direct import from Japan, no less!).

My first inkling was midway through popular anime series Ore no Imoto ga Konnani Kawaii Wake ga Nai(OreImo). During season 2 of it's run,

I found an explicit reference to equally popular series Sword Art Online in the form of protagonist Kirito in figure form sitting on a shelf.

The truth was drawn before me then in all it's 2d glory. How could I have missed it before?

Kirito. Kirino.

I must have been blind!

There's more. You see, whilst scrolling through DeviantArt, premiere place to find real american mangakas of unparelleled art skill, I found even more proof of my theory.

I was photoshopping my waifu-Yoko from Gurren Lagann-with Rei Ayanami from Evangelion as a crossover pairing for my newest fanfic. But get this! If you make their pictures black and white and erase the hair, they look exactly the same!

I looked into it. Turns out a lot of heroines in today's anime world look nearly identical. These are characters we devote our lives to! How could I have been so blind!

Not to mention the personalities! After several hours into searching Urban Dictionary, I found that most characters in anime can be broken down into several archetypes. How could I have possibly known Kirino was a Tsundere! I thought her persona was entirely unique to herself!

This is true suffering. Have I finally ascended beyond the grasp of God? I have attained universal wisdom- these facts that no one else besides me could have possibly discovered. But what does one do with ultimate power? There is no doubt in my mind that I was the only one capable of harnessing this knowledge, but can I ever think of my beloved Yoko as a human being again? I even bought her body pillow recently to consummate our love!

But there is hope. This years new anime releases all look so good! Everyone is so moe I could almost die, and every show seems so invigorating and inspired! I just have to forget this nagging inside me and be proud to wear the name Otaku!!!! I wish I wasn't so alone though, but 3d women are such sluts! Thankfully I only need my Yoko to be happy.

Why is Japan the only place producing quality content? I can't wait until I move overseas to pursue my own career as mangaka. All the kawaii japanese ladies will flock to me, and my favorite mangakas like the guy who produced Naruto will come to me and say something like "damn this guy has talent" but in japanese.

To you who reads this: Do not pursue my line of thinking further. What will our world be without the loving, embracing arm of anime? More culturally inspired? More artistically diverse? Don't be such a baka! Anime is the future! One day when all the cynics just shut up and die and all the 3d sluts wither away I will be at the top of the pantheon! Anime will be real and the chosen ones like myself who have followed the Rules of Waifuism to a tee will be drinking our canned coffees in Tokyo!

That is all.

                Creation demands sacrifice. At the very least, the time necessary to produce something can be represented as an opportunity cost. I pay a price for each awful offering I set before you, burning myself at the pyre of meme.

                Inevitably, as my life slips away under the weight of accumulated loss, I will sink into the gentle oblivion of gathered memes. Subsumed by my sins, all differences between myself and the characters I write will evanesce until there is only the incarnation of Meme, the realization of an ideal through its searing inscription upon my mortal form.
               Heroes have been immortalized for as much. Souls have been damned for much less.
– ♥, Nabocchan


Survival of the Shittest: Why Every Animal is Terrible
By: Me, a PhD (Pretty hard Dude)

“Natural Selection almost inevitably causes much Extinction of all the cool forms of life and induces what I have called a Proliferation of Dumb Bullshit.”

—Charlie D

Okay so you know natural selection right? Where everything that can’t live dies and then the stuff that lives or whatever makes a lot more of itself?

I’m here to tell you why it’s the worst.

So say you have two animals. A lizard and a dragon. The dragon is, objectively speaking, way cooler. It fulfill the Fundamental Criteria of Radness, which I will set forth as follows:

-Big
-Flies
-Nearly invincible
-Breathes fire
-Not dumb

As such, it should follow that the dragon would be favored to reproduce and make little dragons everywhere and the lizard would go straight to hell for being essentially a worse dragon.

But as it so happens, being rad is not a determinant of survival. The dragon uses up too much energy on cool shit so it dies and the asshole lizards just spread everywhere and lay in the sun like little idiots. We can see this time and time again: the Megalodon is replaced by the (still cool, but less so) normal-sized sharks, dinosaurs become chickens, insects become smaller insects. The essential mechanism governing propagation is on an unalterable trajectory toward Darwin’s “Dumb Bullshit”. Everything is just becoming less cool all the time.

If you think I’m going to stop and make an exception for humans think again buddy, because humans prove the rule. An ape can, like, tear off your arm and beat you to death with it. Can you do that? Didn’t think so. All we get are dumb things like being able to talk so we can complain about how much we want to be apes instead.

You know what would be way better than that? Swinging around in a tree and being super strong.

So if everything is terrible what should we do about it? Just use our stupid human vocal tracts to whine?

No, I propose we do something. We can’t reverse-engineer everything exactly because Jurassic Park proved that we aren’t able to handle animals that intense anymore. But what if we mixed animals instead? We could create new cool shit like man-sharks and lion-birds.

I’ll admit I’m no geneticist, but I know we can make all kind of things that are like, what? So I’m sure someone can figure out how to make something awesome. In the meantime, I implore you: compile a list of which hybrids would be coolest. We’ll need them someday soon.

MAKE ME IDEAL: It's an album. You can listen to it. With your ears.

Hey, remember when I spent thirty minutes on a video intro and said I regretted everything?

I spent around a hundred hours on the eponymous track of our new album MAKE ME IDEAL, with which we sought to innovate the genre of shitcore, and I can honestly say that I regret everything a full 200x more.

Meme is a cruel taskmaster, but now you can pump Frickle Frackle Xpress's signature brand of bullshit into your abhorrent excuse for a human body in an all-new form. Aleximander and I have collaborated since 2014 under the name Red Honey to bring you what will probably be the worst album you stop halfway through. Generations of people have lived and died to preserve this world and more specifically their musical traditions for us, and here we are, and here you are, and basically there is no fate so horrible that any of us could fail to deserve it.

The album art Aleximander drew is fuckin' rad though, so there's that.

Click here for the sonic disappointment of a lifetime.

And click here to download it in ~high quality~.

– ♥, Nabocchan(-P)



Oh right I put this in the track notes but just because this is important:

Special thanks to Oyamano Mayo for providing the Kasane Teto voicebank, Delta@kimigatame for recording the English voicebank, and Asakura Funyoshi for developing the TTEnglishInputHelper.

Also uh I think Aleximander used DEsUNE KAWAiiLoid (ft. on cover) so thx Yunikōn-P.

The Once and Future Weeb

"Perhaps most striking about Nabocchan's work is a clear inability to write more than two characters" –Wikipedia, probably

– ♥, Nabocchan

                In the olden days we were called to glory in droves, streaming out of dusty hovels and into legend. Today we’ve moved into modular suburban homes and modular urban offices, the swift dispatch of a sword replaced with the cold steel of hospital cadaver carriers.

                The beacon of justice has been obscured by humankind’s manic efforts to construct a gleaming cage, but it still shines for the devout. It was in service of that exalted ideal that I found myself in an overgrown driveway at three in the morning in full battle attire.

                My greaves creaked as I crept up to the window. No lights were on inside; my nemesis must have foreseen my arrival and prepared a trap—nary a villain would trust himself to slumber after insulting a hand of righteousness.

                But, nay. He had committed a far more despicable sin, one whose insolence shall forever stain my memory. He had insulted a fair maiden, the one I was sworn to protect. O recollection, cruel harpy! His foul speech haunts me even now: “shit waifu”. This irredeemable cockalorum, this ambulatory excrement, dared to turn unkind speech on my peerless Asuka. And for that, the cur must pay.

                F4D3D247, prepare yourself for appropriate retribution. The skies shall split open and from the heavens shall pour my blistering wrath, and your only harvest will be flame. And then your quotidian ritual will pale in comparison to my searing rage, and you shall know what it truly means to blaze.

                I squeezed the charm I had secured to the pommel of my blade for support. Comfort streamed from the tiny statuette of Asuka: my aim was true and my skill unmatched. With a new resolve, I pulled the broadsword from its sheath and held it up, over all the world. It glinted in the moonlight, a shimmering ladder to the celestial plane. The time had come.

                With a grunt of satisfaction I replaced the blade in its sheath—it would be of use later, but the first phase of any plan must be to foil the enemy’s preparations. To this end, I took up a piece of gravel and threw it at the window.

                I had thrown the first pebble, but F4D3D247 had thrown the first stone. War had come to his own abode now, and he had nowhere to run.

                The devious rogue offered no response. I searched around for more imposing ammunition and found it in a brick garden path. I grabbed one paver and hoisted it at the same space, but my gauntlet proved ill-suited to the task and the volley instead slammed into the home’s siding. This time my siege roused the fiend to action; a light came on in a window to my left.

                With an effective course of action determined, I smacked another brick into the wall. Someone called out from inside, and I could see lights flash on as my query made his way to the front door, a moth drawn to flame.

                Soon enough, I heard the door open with a click and a lone figure emerged, cloaked by night and casting a cone of light on the darkened lawn. At this moment a terrible thought struck me: this brigand may be willing to ensnare even law enforcement in his malevolent schemes. I would have to move quickly.

                As the light moved closer, I was forced into quick action. I unsheathed my sword a second time and charged the near window. It shattered before my ardent blow, and I leapt inside with my aggressor running after. My plates of armor clashed as I rolled onto the floor, and I felt a dent through my treasured cuirass. No matter, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

                Looking up, I found myself in an utterly disappointing bedroom. There were no icons of this scoundrel’s lesser objects of devotion, no infernal mechanisms in sight. Merely a few videogames, a computer and a Playstation. Clearly I was fighting a boy, and not a man.

                Still, mercy would be a sin of self-indulgence when charged with the task of purging such an abominable rival. I held my sword high and shouted into the night.

                “Faded Two Four Seven, your numericode has failed to perplex me. I have delved the depths of your Facebook profile—under the same Uniform Resource Identifier, no less!—for your location and I have come for revenge! Take responsibility for your remarks, and face me!”

                But no answer came. The night was deaf to my call for honorable settlement.

                I sat on the floor, unsure of exactly what to do next. For lack of a better option, I unbuckled my gauntlets and began to play one of his games. A distant siren wailed in pursuit of some ill-starred soul.

                I never saw the police arrive, but I heard them. They shut off my game, seized my broadsword and hauled me out to the yard. And then I saw him, peering past the corner of his house, a coward to the last—a gangly college student, looking more scared than intoxicated. But nonetheless, unmistakably F4D3D247. Our eyes met, and I knew that I still could achieve—had to achieve—the goal of my mission.

                With valorous strength I threw off an officer and ran. Their warnings deflected off me as uselessly as their bullets would; few dream they would face an opponent in full steel. The vile F4D3D247 stood, paralyzed, as he came face-to-face with the visage of reprisal. The voices of the police escalated, but I could no longer hear their words. Only one thing mattered.
I looked F4D3D247 in the eye and delivered my devastating counterattack:
                “No, you.”