the gift of allegory

I asked my dad to drive me to a state beach roughly an hour and a half south of my town, and of course his extra ass booked two nights (?!) at the most gorgeous bay front resort with incredible amenities. rich white people everywhere…

the whole town is crazy lush and scenic with palm trees and fruit and desert plants and public parks. houses and apartment complexes the likes of which I’ve never seen before. I don’t even know how to feel. where am I

the tides were crazy today! we put down a waterproof tarp to sit on and within five minutes a wave came in and slurped it out of the ground. thankfully, it was anchored in, but we lost one of our stakes. big waves kept surprising us and other beach goers.

Today this woman called our information desk and said, “my son’s band is playing tonight. I want to come see him, but he never answers his phone…..I want to be there. Have you heard anything about his band?”

And I felt so bad for this lady but I’m not in the music scene around here so I had to tell her no, sorry.

Five hours later, I’m hiking and run into a group of guys setting up for some outdoor performance, and as I watch them unload the drums it hits me.

“Hey,” I said, “are y’all in a band?”

They said yeah and smiled and I told them “one of your moms called today. She wants to watch you play, but she can’t get a hold of you. Call your mom.”

And they all pulled out their phones and started discussing whose mom it probably was as they presumably dialed their own.

And now, unless we meet again and recognize each other, that’s who I’ll be forever to those guys–some mysterious courier for mom-messages who came out of the woods and told them their mom called.

I didn’t even tell them why their mom called me. Who am I to their mom?? Nobody even asked. They just took my word for it and called their mothers.

-Replacing his vitimens with poision

- getting her brother to invite him out onto his boat and then killing him and dumping him in the ocean and saying he got drunk and fell off.

- get tboned with him in the passenger seat and then once he was in the hospital theres all kinds of easy ways to kill him like not washing my hands after a poop and then touching his wound casually.

-replacing his drink of choice with moonshine!?

- take him on a hike thats locally notorious for a rapid otter attacking hikers and once he had rabies I could just kill him any ol way and say self defense.

i regret to inform you that this actually happens in the original show and you just missed it. Steven spends the entirety of Lion 4: Alternate Ending trying to find hints from Rose about what he’s supposed to do with his life, what he is supposed to be for. Eventually, when he finds the Nora tape he takes it to Greg who tells him that as far as he knew, Steven isn’t necessarily supposed to have a magical destiny, his entire purpose to be something that doesn’t have a purpose, to be something that is supposed to grow and change and be different one moment to the next —

"Because you're going to become something extraordinary. You're going to be a human being. *giggles* That's my favorite part. A human being. A human is an action. I wonder who, how you'll be, what you'll think, what you'll want. Oh, I'm so happy for everyone who's going to know you.

Steven even asks his dad the exact question that so many trans youth before him struggling with their identity asked: Would you have preferred me if I were a girl? Was I supposed to be a girl? These are questions that haunt kids working out that they’re trans, as if everything wrong with Steven’s life would be explained by how he was supposed to be a girl. I relate to this a lot. But the part that really sends it home to me is how Greg responds:

Steven, she just wanted you to be you. When you have a kid, you have no idea who they're gonna be. Even Garnet couldn't predict it. That's what was so exciting to your mom, that life is full of so many possibilities, and you would get to explore them for yourself. I mean, you could be Steven or Nora or anyone else. And you can always change your name. Hey, I did.

Hello! I am going to answer your question, and then I am going to talk a little bit about GENDER IN COMEDY, because this is my tumblr and I can talk about whatever I want!

The vast vast vast majority of the animal jokes on BoJack Horseman (specifically the visual gags) come from our brilliant supervising director Mike Hollingsworth (stufffedanimals on tumblr) and his team. Occasionally, we’ll write a joke like that into the script but I can promise you that your top ten favorite animal gags of the season came from the art and animation side of the show, not the writers room. Usually it happens more the second way you described— to take a couple examples from season 2, “Okay, we need to fill this hospital waiting room, what kind of animals would be in here?” or “Okay, we need some extras for this studio backlot, what would they be wearing?”

I don’t know for sure, but I would guess that the croc wearing crocs came from our head designer lisahanawalt. Lisa is in charge of all the character designs, so most of the clothing you see on the show comes straight from her brain. (One of the many things I love about working with Lisa is that T-Shirts With Dumb Things Written On Them sits squarely in the center of our Venn diagram of interests.)

NOW, it struck me that you referred to the craft services crocodile as a “he” in your question. The character, voiced by kulap Vilaysack, is a woman.

It’s possible that that was just a typo on your part, but I’m going to assume that it wasn’t because it helps me pivot into something I’ve been thinking about a lot over the last year, which is the tendency for comedy writers, and audiences, and writers, and audiences (because it’s a cycle) to view comedy characters as inherently male, unless there is something specifically female about them. (I would guess this is mostly a problem for male comedy writers and audiences, but not exclusively.)

Here’s an example from my own life: In one of the episodes from the first season (I think it’s 109), our storyboard artists drew a gag where a big droopy dog is standing on a street corner next to a businessman and the wind from a passing car blows the dog’s tongue and slobber onto the man’s face. When Lisa designed the characters she made both the dog and the businessperson women.

My first gut reaction to the designs was, “This feels weird.” I said to Lisa, “I feel like these characters should be guys.” She said, “Why?” I thought about it for a little bit, realized I didn’t have a good reason, and went back to her and said, “You’re right, let’s make them ladies.”

I am embarrassed to admit this conversation has happened between Lisa and me multiple times, about multiple characters.

The thinking comes from a place that the cleanest version of a joke has as few pieces as possible. For the dog joke, you have the thing where the tongue slobbers all over the businessperson, but if you also have a thing where both of them ladies, then that’s an additional thing and it muddies up the joke. The audience will think, “Why are those characters female? Is that part of the joke?” The underlying assumption there is that the default mode for any character is male, so to make the characters female is an additional detail on top of that. In case I’m not being a hundred percent clear, this thinking is stupid and wrong and self-perpetuating unless you actively work against it, and I’m proud to say I mostly don’t think this way anymore. Sometimes I still do, because this kind of stuff is baked into us by years of consuming media, but usually I’m able (with some help) to take a step back and not think this way, and one of the things I love about working with Lisa is she challenges these instincts in me.

I feel like I can confidently say that this isn’t just a me problem though— this kind of thing is everywhere. The LEGO Movie was my favorite movie of 2014, but it strikes me that the main character was male, because I feel like in our current culture, he HAD to be. The whole point of Emmett is that he’s the most boring average person in the world. It’s impossible to imagine a female character playing that role, because according to our pop culture, if she’s female she’s already SOMEthing, because she’s not male. The baseline is male. The average person is male.

You can see this all over but it’s weirdly prevalent in children’s entertainment. Why are almost all of the muppets dudes, except for Miss Piggy, who’s a parody of femininity? Why do all of the Despicable Me minions, genderless blobs, have boy names? I love the story (which I read on Wikipedia) that when the director of The Brave Little Toaster cast a woman to play the toaster, one of the guys on the crew was so mad he stormed out of the room. Because he thought the toaster was a man. A TOASTER. The character is a toaster.

I try to think about that when writing new characters— is there anything inherently gendered about what this character is doing? Or is it a toaster?

"No." Says the tuna, "Do you?"

"I have never seen it." Says the whale, "but deep in my body, I remember it."

"Why do you care," says the tuna, "if you will never see it."

"There are bones in my body built to walk through the forests and the mountains." Says the whale.

"They will disappear." Says the tuna, "one day, your body will forget the forests and the mountains."

"Maybe I don't want to forget," Says the whale, "The forests were once my home."

"I have seen the forests." Whispers the salmon, almost to itself.

"Tell me what you have seen," says the whale.

"The forests spawned me." Says the salmon. "They sent me to the ocean to grow. When I am fat with the bounty of the ocean, I will bring it home."

"Why would the forests seek the bounty of the oceans?" Asks the whale. "They have bounty of their own."

Last year I finally had an excuse to illustrate this simple little Tumblr story I've had bookmarked forever for class.

Of course, what was supposed to be a short term service industry job before he lived for his art has bloomed into just being his life, and life as a poor artist is never as romantic as one imagines. While the cost of living of Bikini Bottom is low enough that even a frycook can be a homeowner, it's not quite so low that he can afford the luxuries he was used to growing up.

His view of the Working Class as the downtrodden masses were rather tattered by years of living between SpongeBob and Patrick, who were not so much temporarily oppressed intellectuals as they were, well, SpongeBob and Patrick.

Still, through thick and thin he's never gone back on his decision to leave the money behind. The great irony is that he is ignorant of his greatest achievement—his superiority to Squilliam isn't turning a bunch of randos into a functioning Marching Band or turning a burger joint into a fine dining establishment, it's having the strength of character to look at all the advantages Squilliam had and choose to leave it behind.