Friday Night Fights: Cannon Spike!

In this week's contribution to Bahlactus's never-ending battle, Cammy White, the Shadaloo assassin turned MI6 operative, demonstrates to a couple of thugs that wanting something and getting something are entirely different things.

(from the Super Street Fighter II: Cammy graphic novel by Masahiko Nakahira)
Of the diverse roster of characters in the Street Fighter franchise, Cammy is one of my favorites (tied for first place with Final Fight alum Cody Travers from Street Fighter Alpha 3). Maura attributes my fondness for the character as another example of this supposed "thing" she's convinced I have for petite blondes, but I would like to go on record as stating that Cammy's speed and Cannon Spike move make her ideally suited for carrying out the cheap corner traps and hit-and-run attacks that are the lynchpins of my winning SF strategies.

Then there's the whole Kylie-as-Cammy thing from Street Fighter: The Movie, which is the only reason I could ever bring myself to sit through that steaming cinematic turd...


Okay, so maybe there is some truth to the wife's "petite blonde" theory...

Kylie Minogue - On a Night Like This (from Light Years, 2000) - I make no excuses nor offer any apologies.

Kylie is, and that's that.

the little bunny wanted to kill everyone

Easter is a big event here at Armagideon Time HQ, not because of the religious aspects (I’m an atheist and the wife is an “accomplished” – meaning she doesn’t feel the need to practice anymore – Catholic), but because of the opportunity to celebrate all things lagomorphic. I knew going in to this relationship that rabbits would always play a big part of my wife’s life. Currently we have nine of the little critters: a clan of rex rabbits that live and play together in two big cages, and an elderly rabbit handed off to us by a co-worker’s family. Rabbit-themed nick-knacks and toys can be found in every corner of our house and garden, from statues to weathervanes to stuffed animals to netsuke.

The bunnies figured large into our home-buying decision. When we toured the wrecked shell of our future home, we saw the small half-bedroom at the top of the second floor landing and simultaneously said “This would be a perfect place for the rabbits.” I don’t have a computer room, but our rabbits have their own bedroom.

My wife just reminded me that early on in our relationship, when we were “friends with potential,” she named one of her pet rabbits “Otto,” which was my punk rock name and a subtle hint about her feelings towards me. When I ended up asking another girl in our social circle out instead, she says she used to look at the rabbit and mutter “What a stupid name.” It all worked out in the end, though. Such is the power of bunny magic.

(The shared name also led to some odd situations, like the time she was explaining to friends about she got a cut on her lip: “Otto was jumping around on the bed like a wild man, and kicked me in the face.” The looks those people gave me…)

In the name of General Holly, Oswald, and Hoppy the Marvel Bunny, I have pulled from my musical top hat this small sampler of bun-iferous tracks.

King Missile – The Bunny Song (from They, 1988) – There is a real darkness beneath the fuzzy, cuddly surface that the rabbit race does not wish mankind to know about. Until it’s too late…

The Damned – White Rabbit (from Machine Gun Ettiquette, 1979) – Brilliantly wrong.

Los Gatos Negros – Hey Hey Bunny (from the Le Beat Bespoke compilation, 2004) – This compilation of “Swinging London” 1960’s dance tracks has quickly become one of my favorite albums of all time.

PINE*am – Pull the Rabbit Ears (from Pull the Rabbit Ears, 2005) – Cute song, terrible advice. Rabbit teeth aren’t that sharp, but they can bite with the force of an industrial stapler.

(A pre-emptive “Yes, I’m aware of it” to UNKLE’s “Rabbit in Your Headlights” and the Throwing Muses’ “Rabbits Dying”.)

the ache is in my bones

The head cold I mentioned a few posts back took advantage of yesterday’s round of snow shoveling to insinuate itself into my bronchial passages. As a consequence, I’m feeling a bit lousy today and not up to my customary levels of inspired posting. In fact, I think I’ll just hand things over to Kylie today, with a topically relevant song and its accompanying music video.



Kylie Minogue – Breathe (from Impossible Princess, 1997) – I got a lot of shit from a Diamanda Galás-loving friend of mine for saying I loved this song. Hey, misery and angst are fine, but I wouldn’t want to live in a world where they’ve completely supplanted dreamy dance pop.

One of my wiser drama professors, commenting on the works of Ibsen, Strindberg, and the like, once said “While it’s important to understand the significance of these plays and playwrights, it’s also important to understand that most people do not want to watch three hours of Scandinavian misery when they visit the theater.”

My wife taped the video for “Breathe” (and the one for “Did It Again”) ten or so years ago off of a pan-Asian music show that used to run on the International Channel without first realizing who the singer actually was. Reassessment of our opinions regarding Kylie and some import CD purchases soon followed.

(The show was also responsible for my love of Thai pop, but that’s a matter for a future post. Maybe.)