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...
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Sunday, October 18, 2015
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.
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.
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