Disorder Reviews: My friendship with Zinji

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Martintox

Mister Disorder
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Apr 3, 2020
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Martintox Presents: Disorder Reviews


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The following story is one of corruption and betrayal. It is an account of the tragic fate that would incur a man that I once considered one of my closest friends. Furthermore, it is a cautionary tale that sheds light on the profound effect that media can have on the minds of the most impressionable. It is for no less than the fact that this person is in such an irreparable state that I am forced to grieve in the only way that I know -- by reviewing as a coping mechanism. For the sake of protecting the innocent and the melanin deficient, I will refer to this individual under the name of Zinji Coomari: having already suffered as much as he has, there is no justifiable reason to make him worry about libel on top of that. Indeed, the subject of my lamentations is not the man himself, but rather the bond that we've had together and which has only eroded in recent times.

The two of us met more than a decade ago, united through the spellbinding allure of writing as a creative outlet. We each had our share of unfortunate eccentricities (I had a penchant to make surface-level references to movies or video games that I hadn't actually watched or played, he liked Doctor Who) which only brought us further together as men apart, as days turned into weeks, months, and so on. Before we knew it, we had formed a partnership as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar. With the help of a few others, we were underway to form a veritable literary tapestry of immense depth and scale, with dozens of characters of very similar origin (so similar, in fact, that most of them were alternate versions of the same six or seven people) embroiled in intrigue and conflicts so complex that we were unable to keep track of them every time we had written a dozen pages' worth of material. Even with these minor issues, we pressed onward and worked together with no less than stunning regularity. For a time, it seemed that we were outright unstoppable. Yes... it seemed.

In reality, long before I had even realized it, there were clear signs that Zinji held a dark secret -- darker than I could have ever anticipated, for that matter. There was actually a brief span of time, during what may have been the peak of our work together, in which we were eager to jump at each other's throats. All the more troubling is the primary cause of this turmoil: Puella Magi Madoka Magica. In short, we had often fought over it because I would express my dislike of it without having seen it. For one reason or another, Zinji took special offense to that. Things reached such a level of animosity that we would not talk to each other for almost an entire year. Still, the adage goes that time heals all wounds, and it certainly applied here -- we spoke again, and suddenly all was right once more. For many years, we would continue to collaborate, and I would remain blissfully ignorant of Zinji's secret until it became so overwhelmingly clear that it would have been an Olympian feat to deny it any further.

This secret works akin to the most insidious of diseases, as its earliest symptoms are either imperceptible or sufficiently innocuous so as to be mistaken as signs of much lesser troubles. First, it was the references to well known shows such as Dragon Ball Z. Next, it was the use of Nobuo Uematsu's orchestral compositions as backing music for his writing. Before I knew it, Zinji began to use images of highly stylized individuals of the female sex as profile pictures or avatars on a plethora of websites and online programs. Yet, having known and trusted him for so long, I thought little of any of it. Imagine that! How foolish a man can be for the sake of a friend! Alas, this denial was but a band-aid on top of a gangrenous infection, and every additional second spent with it on would only make the inevitable removal all the more painful. Trust me, my readers, it has brought me great sorrow to come to terms with this reality so late, as I have faced an experience so horrifying, so foul that the Devil himself would not dread to deliver it upon Judas, Brutus, and Cassius in a million years. At a loss for subjects to cover in Disorder Reviews, I turned to Zinji for inspiration. He suggested Monster Musume.

The jig was up. Anime had corrupted this poor man to the very marrow. His horizons had narrowed from the shimmering skies and sprawling prairies of literary adventure into the cavernous grimace of 2-dimensional animation. His brain, once the home of characters with the vibrance of a short-lived early 2000s Cartoon Network series, became the container of a poisonous fascination with esoteric aspects of the female ideal. His interests lie no longer in the intricacies of the arts, but in a desperate bid to understand works of media where nearly every single significant historical figure is a woman with disproportionately large breasts. Instead of using his time in a productive manner, he plays gacha. To be fair, I did feel that something was off about his strange interest in tomboys, not to mention his vocal desire to have women "slap him", but can you truly blame me for dismissing this as mere satirical tomfoolery? Despite my most heartfelt wishes, it is impossible for me to turn back time -- neither to our finest era, nor to my days of blissful ignorance. The eldritch beast of Japanese animation has irreparably tainted Zinji's soul, and he has no choice but to join the ranks of the endless victims before him. I know not when he has fallen prey to this twisted ruse, but there is no question as to its perpetrator. In short, we had a lot of good times but I wish that he'd stop sharing mediocre anime and unsolicited erotic fiction with me.

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PERSONAL RATING: **
RECOMMENDATION RATING: *½
LETTERED RATING: D+


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Neuromancer

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It is a heartbreaking tale indeed. I have lost many a friend to the anime scourge myself. Monster Musume deserves to burn for crimes against humanity
 

PsychicTaco115

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I feel that all friendships could benefit from reviews like this
 
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SupahEwok

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The following story is one of corruption and betrayal.
Indeed, this whole account rings true, for one might say that corruption and betrayal is the essence of human storytelling. A fine review, one of this critic's best, and on such a bold subject. 8 waifus in a harem / 2 nukes.
 

Neuromancer

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Indeed, this whole account rings true, for one might say that corruption and betrayal is the essence of human storytelling. A fine review, one of this critic's best, and on such a bold subject. 8 waifus in a harem / 2 nukes.
I don't feel that 2 nukes are adequate.
 

Martintox

Mister Disorder
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Apr 3, 2020
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It is a heartbreaking tale indeed. I have lost many a friend to the anime scourge myself. Monster Musume deserves to burn for crimes against humanity
Thank you; it means no less than the world for me to know that someone else understands how painful such a situation can be.