I Think My Favorite Thing About Kris And Susie Both Individually And As A Duo Is That They're Fucking

I think my favorite thing about Kris and Susie both individually and as a duo is that they're fucking TERRIFYING in like different archetypal ways while also being your average idiot teens

Like where else are you going to get a quiet kid with knife iconography who tears out their own soul and whose canon expressions are either deadpan or unhinged with glowing red eyes

Paired with an enormous fucking monster with fangs that can probably be measured in inches and burning eyes and a snout wrinkled in animal rage who can and will destroy anything in her path and at one point threatens to rip our face off with her massive bestial jaws

Both of whom canonically eat moss. And attempt to eat the clothes off a mannequin. And try to fit their entire heads into those dumbass talky tubes. And are just a couple of idiot teenagers who dick around town and accidentally run into your divorced parents in a Walmart and have to just hide in the corner together and try not to hear the absolute trainwreck that's happening like three aisles over

Like. I don't know if I can call it juxtaposition per se, but the fact that they could both easily be villains with their aesthetics and abilities but are also both just head-empty morons.. it's good.

dream is literally never coming to tumblr

The Boston Dynamics dog and the blood squeegee art installation robot both illustrate ways in which humanity imbues its automatons with life and spirit but in separate moral directions.

The Dog took the shortcut, copying a well loved animal that already has a soul and mimicking its movements and mannerisms. Add an expensive marketing campaign with music and good lighting and choreography and its easy to believe this sleek and beautiful piece of machinery is practically alive.

Then take the other, a faceless mechanical arm. Beautiful perhaps in an abstract and brutalist sense, but with no friendly mannerisms or colorful chassis. It is in fact frightening and shocking to behold, scooping what appears to be blood across the floor.

But then we have the mask slip on the friendly dog, and the thing that tried so hard to be cute and funny and beautiful is revealed to be just another toy for the military to use in its quest for human destruction, hiding its purpose behind its ability to dance and play.

All the while sympathy mounts for the mechanical arm, its movements become sluggish, its resolve grows weak, its ability to keep pulling its blood back into itself begins to wane, much like in our own human selves, and this terrifying appendage eventually dies, much like ourselves, having done no harm despite its terrible appearance.

How much easier then is it to bestow the idea of humanity on the arm than the dog. Where the dog becomes better and more capable over time yet more prone to inevitable violence; yet the arm becomes tired in its age and uninterested in harming anything, it merely struggles to keep moving until entropy claims it and it cannot do even that any more.

It becomes an almost hamfisted example of how evil lurks beneath the veneer of advertising, a perfect illustration of how beauty doesn't equal goodness.

Dream understands the nuances of queerness better than literally every single person who's ever accused him of queerbaiting

next year it will be ours

oh yeah have i ever told yall of the academic war i have been an unwilling soilder in for the past two years