Two Halloween Hams.

Hello friends! I’d like to direct all of you to the following link: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1367347179/dead-in-the-west-a-tabletop-rpg-set-in-the-mythic?ref=nav_search&result=project&term=dead%20in%20the%20west The past year and a half or so, I’ve been working hard on creating my very own pen-and-paper tabletop RPG (think Dungeons and Dragons if you’ve never played one before). The game is set in what I like to call a “Mythic Old West” setting - think old cowboy movies and pulpy novels - the kind of place made up of tall-tales and larger-than-life characters. Setting out on an adventure in Dead in the West should feel like your party is a group of modern-day scribes, stitching out the tapestry that is the first Great American Folklore! The Kickstarter is not asking for very much, and will go towards creating both a digital and physical edition of a beautiful rulebook, filled with gorgeous artwork by tumblr users like yourselves, all paid a fair commission.

Please do consider contributing to the Kickstarter! Dead in the West is an incredibly fun game, and I’d love to share it with as many people as I possible can.

Also you get the bonus of seeing my ugly mug in the dieo up there.

Thanks everybody <3

So I thought Nier: Automata was a really dumb game where you played as an anime and fought big robot worms, when suddenly I had put 60 hours into it and made this video talking about it’s Hegellian take on the origins of self-consciousness. Go figure! If you enjoy my content, please do give me a sub/comment/like/bell/what have you, as it means a lot!

It’s here! 

In this video, I discuss The Tempest and it’s storied, weird history, whilst takin a close look at Julie Taymor’s 2010 adaptation of the play. In the video, I talk about the problem with adapting Shakespeare in general, and how film is by definition a transformative medium.

If you enjoy the video, please do like/share/subscribe! I know thats corny, but it really helps this early on.

Let me know what you all think!

Like a breath

Raising her head skyward in frustration, her eyes glide over a choppy, crystalline sea. The only sky the Forager has ever known, as if the air itself ruptures into a tumultuous gray just above the mountains. With her limited understanding of the world, she used to assume the atmosphere a physical thing, that thinned out as it approached the ground. Up there, she figured, the air was like a mighty ocean.

Sighing, she digs her hands back into the muck below. A thick, shapeless assembly of dirt and clay – all that remains of whatever structure once stood here. However old this building was, and whatever import it held, to her it was merely something to be dredged. An unspecific mass incarnadine, to be hopefully panned for gold.

The cracks along the ground were filled with this rubbish; great splinters through the earth at the bottom of unimaginable gorges, into which all the works of civilization came tumbling down into. A single split like this had the potential to contain centuries of progress – countless artifacts and trinkets, buried within the rubble. Their individuality now faded, together they lie as a great amalgamation, and a monument to inevitability. If she were to grab hold of something – some old keepsake or remain – it may well be all the we would ever see of a certain snapshot in time. To the Forager, it meant an exchange and a meal.

Indeed, it is hard to say how many priceless heirlooms and invaluable relics she had herself broken in search of a more easily quantifiable trade.

One false step and she herself could be swallowed by antiquity.

To say the history of the objects she held in her hands had ever crossed her mind would be a half-truth – a lie to flatter the ghosts of whatever world she trudged through. Only the immediate past of a given object – how pristine it appeared – ever factored into her thought process. After all, “worth”, and especially human worth, is an invention. Despite lofty connotations, the scrap she neatly folded and tucked away now carried with it a newer, more objective value than what previous generations might deem it to have.

With an ache of pain, the forager arcs her neck skyward. Long before her time, vainglorious scholars waxed poetic about the idea of the convergence. In the now, the reality, the word had lost it's meaning. She had never known her celestial body as a singular identity – only as a part of the twisted amalgamation. Everything had been drawn inwards, you see. As the universe drew ever closer to its inevitable conclusion, it's satellites and travelers were dragged towards its center. It was like a great homecoming, in a sense. Every atom was called home, to be reunited in their single point of origin. In time, it would all be crushed together – every star and every world. There would be a great unification before the end. Out with creation, and in with destruction. Like no more than a breath, with another perhaps to follow.

But for now, and for another trillion years, this will be the shape of things. A tumorous mass, growing larger by the century, and then shrinking into nothingness.

And all sentience throughout all time would amount to - this final stage of evolution – is rats on a ship. Hungry and cold, rummaging through the trash of their forbears.

With her head held high, the foragers eyes glaze over the continent of another planet. Her peers, also raising their heads, might look at her own. It gave her solace, before she got back to work, imagining that she herself was to others a similar, tumultuous sky.

So the auction scene in Jurassic World 2 is p good, but how would it flow with some big band jazz and snappier editing? (pls forgive me my memes)

Howdy everyone. Please take a moment and watch this quick video I made about the best film of last year; Sorry to Bother You. If you enjoy it, feel free to give me a sub/like/share/the good stuff! If you don’t like it, pretend you didn’t see it!

friends, i have been quiet because i have been funnelling all my creative energy into music right now and idk how to move from poems to that on here. I do still make more visually inclined things but right now this is what’s taking over my life. I’m not really calling anything as formal as a hiatus - just that’s why I’m here a bit less right now, though I’ve no doubt I’ll be around again for poems and art.

if you would like to maybe keep up with this music stuff, you can, and I would love it if you did.

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I am also working on solo music stuff a fair amount. none of it is being released yet because recording is either difficult or expensive, but old things are on ishanijasmin.bandcamp.com and new things will be too.

Mario Odyssey does a lot of cool, strange things, but none as cool or strange as letting you dress the most iconic character in all of videogames as a topless cowboy. 

In this video I talk about character design and theory, as well as why Mario has stuck around as long as he has. Any likes, comments, shares or subscriptions will go a long way!

At the moment of conception, the story exists as a superposition of possibility, idly waiting for someone to crack it. Waiting for someone to skip to the last page.

Infra - sub, or below

Naut - to sail, though in recent years it has become intrinsically tied to space. See; astronaut, cosmonaut.