I have been trying to rationalize a way for me to associate the Brak Show with what I am currently supposed to be studying: Asian philosophy. There is really very little connection.
Of course, where there is suffering there is philosophy. And where there is Zorak there is suffering. Maybe Dad’s quotes on the show aren’t just the tooterings of some pothead writer for [adult swim]. Perhaps that writer has too been physically abused by a giant blu-ish mantis, and is using the show as a way to vent the frustrations of a childhood, lost forever.
Or maybe I’m just procrastinating writing notes that are only for my benefit. I have an A in the class, and not just any A; I have earned myself, by midterms, a SUPER MECHA A. The Momma A. The 100% A.
I had started this to write about relevant topics. Now I’m just spewing out pretty much whatever’s in my brain.
For example, I watched Breakfast At Tiffany’s when I got home today. There is a line that I will always cherish: “I’m gonna march you over to the zoo and feed you to the yak.” The next time that someone makes me angry, I am going to say that to them. Many people underestimate the dangerous nature of the yak; they crave human blood.
This photo accompanied a story about a yak attack.
Ethel. 