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That’s an absolutely awful video. Loud, obnoxious, disingenuous and not even remotely as funny, informative, comprehensive, or clever as the idiot who made it thinks it is. It’s valueless content made to be ingested and served up by an algorithm.
That’s an absolutely awful video. Loud, obnoxious, disingenuous and not even remotely as funny, informative, comprehensive, or clever as the idiot who made it thinks it is. It’s valueless content made to be ingested and served up by an algorithm.
“I said NO PICTURES, Frodo!”
I was actually going to respond with the Discworld series in general, but Death’s dialogue there puts it in a nutshell. We’re not creatures of reason, but of narrative, fiction. I might not have come to that view if not for reading Terry Pratchett.
You hate it precisely because of how you described it. It’s a game where you often end up paying a price, where the reveal is more often a punishment, not a reward. You’ve sensibly learned to dread it.
His half of the game is that always gets is to see your reaction in the moment. If it’s something bad, he gets a big reaction out of you. It’s always a payout for him. Not for you.
Love this idea.
If the zombie’s body still has some link to the soul such that it could see and react to the ghost, they could make an extremely awkward yet dangerous team.
“Come over this way, buddy! Brains over here!”
“Brainsh?” Shuffle, shuffle.
“Yup, see?” The ghost points triumphantly at a hamster cage. “Lots of juicy little brains to eat!”
“Awww… Tired of mowsh brainsh! WANT HOOMAN BRAINSH!”
Zombie takes another vicious swipe at the ghost but finds only air.
“Why can no eat you brainsh again?”
“As I’ve explained all evening, I’m ethereal, not really here, sorry, friend. It’s mouse or nothing.”
The zombie’s shoulders slump in disappointment, but he turns to the hamster cage. The hamsters peer back, vaguely uneasy.
“C’mere cute liddle mowshes…”
Clang, squeak, munch, munch, munch.