Cobrateen

~ ~ ~ Many Spoilers for Charlotte ~ ~ ~
I just finished watching Charlotte recently and (drum roll please) I liked it. But the ending left me conflicted; I expected some problems, having coincidentally heard a very negative one-sentence review for the show in the middle of watching it, but after the final episode I wasn't sure what to think. Was it good? I enjoyed many parts of it. Did it have problems? A few, but I could generally see why they existed. Did it suck? I don't think so and so the negative review I had heard, from someone I trust to have good opinions about anime, confused me. Why so negative? So of course I went looking for Charlotte reviews on YouTube … and the overall opinion there seems to range from mediocre to downright terrible.
That was where I realized something: the reviewers of Charlotte had a number of complaints that came from them perhaps misunderstanding certain moments in the story. Much of the criticism focused on perceived plot holes or the reviewer

Clickety-clack went the loom, clickety-clack. Amy passed the shuttle through and stepped on the pedal. Clickety-clack, clickety-clack. The fabric would be a rich yellow like sunlight blazing in the morning. Sleeves of golden pleather hung nearby, along with strips of deep reds and purples for the trim. Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.
A sound almost indistinguishable from thunder broke the air. She stopped and yelled, “Did something break?”
The thunderous slamming continued. Standing, Amy strode across the nursery studio, glancing down at a baby sleeping in a crib and sidestepping a toddler bouncing in a swing. She continued down a hall littered with laundry and toys, passing rooms with children playing video games and hitting each other. In the living room two girls sat in front of a TV quiz show as the sound of pounding continued from the front door.
Amy growled and opened a hallway closet, spun the dial of a safe clickety-clack clickety-clack clickety-clack and pulled out

I stood in a hollow place. The world around me was in continuous flux. Moments of stasis would occur, until they were ruptured by chaos. Walls would surround me and then dissipate. I could see through them to the yards, cities, and oceans beyond.
Only one object remained static in this visage. A table in the center of a room would fluctuate in and out of existence. Atop it was the object. Solid and immobile. It drew my focus; begged for it.
Demanded it.
I took one step and the Earth beneath my feet shattered. But I stayed afloat. I took another. The emptiness of the aether surrounded me on all sides. Walls, cities, and oceans disappeared entirely. All that remained was me, the void, and...
- the object.
“Then what?”
I looked up at Doctor Smyth. She eyed me over a blue plastic clipboard, her moon-colored eyes distant and ominous. She repeated the question. I turned back to my paper on the table in front of me.
My black marker filled the last white triangles along the paper

I recently quit playing the free Microsoft Store game Iron Blade. I uninstalled the game one morning before I could change my mind. And seeing as most people reading this probably haven't heard of IB, I'd like to explain why I quit … because there’s a chance you might want to give the game a try. I quit IB because I think I see now everything the game was trying to teach and those lessons reminded me that I have better things to be doing with my time.
IB is not a bad game. The spam bots in the forum say otherwise but they are one of the few small exceptions; their deluge of spam slows the main menus to a crawl. And I don't have a problem with the game's semi-addictive nature; you don't have to play every day, you'll just want to so you can get good gear and level up.
The story of IB is about a medieval knight who goes around killing the many forces of evil in a world of big cities, secluded castles and ancient temples. The art and backgrounds are much better than you might

“There are three rules for the writing of a novel. Unfortunately no one knows what they are.”
- Somerset Maugham
Challenge accepted.
Rule 1 : Before you start, create an outline. Stories can impart important messages and themes through the actions of their characters and the events surrounding them. Without an outline, a novel will by the nature of its length fall off the tracks of this message. The easiest way to write something with a strong, consistent message is to write a short story; when trying to do so with a novel, it helps to have a well-planned outline. Some writers find an outline essential, allowing them to keep a consistent message, continue when stuck and write from anywhere in the novel.
Rule 1b : Or don't create an outline. Planning out a novel can naturally make the novel feel planned when read by others, ruining their sense of realism. Anyone can write a novel where doing X causes the hero to succeed, but that won't convince readers to do X in their own l

The trees cruising by on our left had pale, twisted limbs and bare branches. They cast long, jagged shadows toward the road from a low, orange sun. Wisps of grass grew from a dark ground that occasionally rose in small, misshapen mounds. On the other side of the road everything was green and leafy.
“These woods go on forever.” I stared out at them, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. We drove down the old highway in Val’s teal Prius, no other cars in sight. The gas gauge was on the final bar. “How long until the next station?”
“How much is in the tank?” Val leaned over the cup holders, pushing her head against mine. “There’s a whole bar left.” She sat back in her seat and stared down at her phone. “When it starts blinking, we’ve got about forty miles.”
“Are we going to make it?”
“We could have filled up at that last gas station.”
She didn’t have to make it sound like my faul

We truly are now at war with terror.
Someone once said we would go to war with terror. We would find where terror was, wage war against terror, and at last defeat terror. To be honest, some of us laughed at that person. After all, who can fight an idea? How can anyone fight a label, an emotion, an intangible?
But whether that person was right – or we simply found the war we went looking for – we are now at war with terror. Every day it seems we hear of this new tragedy, that new affront, those new foes. They scream into the television cameras. Strikes occur to us and our allies, at home and abroad. People really do hate us. And why shouldn’t they? We went to war with terror, and (not entirely by accident) we instead ended up attacking our fellow human beings.
Someone once said he who is without sin may throw the first stone. We who won our country by fighting off an oppressive overseas regime must always remember: One person's terrorist is another person's rebe