Posts Tagged ‘Sad Sack’

Pokemon: The Movie

June 27, 2013

Sad Yukio is shunned by his peers. Why? His regulation rucksack sits like an obedient cuboid upon his unbending plank of a spine. The other children like their satchels saggy and their spines curvilinear. Therefore Sad Yukio must be banished from their boyish communion like the tight perpendicular pansy he, alas, on first inspection, appears to be.

Is there a society, club or federation that will welcome Sad Yukio into its fold? Must he stand a perennial outsider, hovering like a beggar – albeit one sporting clean bright underpants – on the fringes of the infantine feast? Who will claim Sad Yukio as their own?

The Fraternity of Pokemon Breeders, Trainers and Affiliated Representatives (PBTAAR), that’s who. For who needs friends when you can be a member of one of the most exclusive, exciting and imaginary organisations in the world?

No-one.

Here are some fun Pokemon facts that Sad Yukio learned via his Pokemon Fun Fact FiloFax:

– A Pokemon is bonded to its master by a blood oath and by an unspecified, ritualised act of intimacy.

– The plural form of Pokemon is Pokemen.

– The most famous Pokemon in the world is Linford Christie

– Pokemen come in all shapes and sizes. Some are globular and viscous like frogspawn, others look like nan-nans, but with nasty skin conditions.

– Walt Whitman once wrote a poem about a Pokemon. Here is an extract:

                I’ve felt its tongue and tooth

                I’ve felt its velvet pelt

                And I SING the POKEMON, right?

– Here is a picture of Sad Yukio’s Pokemon, which is called ‘Cranking Pob’:

Cranking Pob: a Pokemon

Cranking Pob: a Pokemon

– Here is a picture of another Pokemon, called ‘Sonic the Hedgehog’:

Sonic the Hedgehog: another Pokemon

Sonic the Hedgehog: another Pokemon

D.A.R.Y.L.

March 9, 2010

Somewhere in the Freudian soup of my infancy I remember being exposed to the 1985 film, D.A.R.Y.L., about a robotic boy who lives with a regular human family until he is recaptured by his military creators (or something). There was something faintly traumatic about being exposed to that film, but I can’t really remember what. In a bid to regain a quantum of sanity I have penned the following poem about it.

Haply am I a teenage robot

Little blest with the gift of Man’s soft speech

But every telephone north of Mexico rings out

A plaintive Lawnmower Man-lilt

And the Apple Macs weep heavy pixels

And the routers crash with ennui.

For all the inorganic world

Cannot for the life of it work out

Why I,

D.A.R.Y.L., the acronymic adolescent android,

Cannot get laid.

_______

My human cousin, Duke, lent me a pornographic magazine.

And by the Cylon God I beat myself blind

And gave it back to Duke with a Man’s pride.

Am I not a man like you?

If you cut me do I not bleed?

If you consent to mate with me do I not ejaculate?

(Why do you not consent to mate with me?)

________

No, Mother.

I shan’t relent in my quest

For human pussy.

__________

Why can I not say these words Mother?

Cousin Duke says words like ‘pussy’ and ‘ejaculate’ and ‘ramrod’.

He is a teenage boy

And so am I

(Albeit with a cold android’s heart)

So why can I not?

_________

What is ‘inappropriate’?

How can I understand this word?

Why do you cry Mother?

_________

Sometimes I peep on Glenda the fallen housewife

As she heaves her ponderous mammaries

Across the formica table-tops

Of the kitchen next door.

How I long to grasp at

Those pendulous sweepers.

How I long to destroy humanity.

__________

But every telephone north of Mexico rings out

A plaintive Lawnmower Man-lilt

And the Apple Macs weep heavy pixels

And the routers crash with ennui

For all the inorganic world

Cannot for the life of it work out

Why I,

D.A.R.Y.L., the acronymic adolescent android,

Cannot get laid.