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eightbithoof

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Blog Entries posted by eightbithoof

  1. eightbithoof
    Brewing up Rhymes
     
    From time to time, I’m given to ponder,
    An alchemist zebra who’s given to wander,
    The Everfree forest, despite all the danger.
    Gathering herbs with which she’s no stranger.
     
    From potion to poison each she has mastered,
    Brewing her cures to solve each disaster.
    With leaf and seed, with stem and root,
    She crafts oils, elixirs and salves to boot.
     

     
    Long have I wondered in my meditations,
    Why Zecora would converse - without provocation -
    With measured meter and couplets paired,
    Into rhyming verse wherever she fairs.
     
    It’s has been in my mind that far in the past,
    Under a curse Zecora fell, that was cast,
    By creatures whose nature was whimsy and malice,
    To discomfit the zebra and disrupt her ballast.
     

     
    Others have said that it’s a game that she plays,
    A tradition to sharpen her mind through each day.
    But perhaps the truth is simply that she,
    Finds joy in language, by waft and by weave.
     
    Whatever the case, it brings me a smile,
    To follow along each loquacious mile,
    And if I had my way, I tell you true,
    I would count this zebra as my friend, too.
     

  2. eightbithoof
    Wind to stone and fire to dust and each pattern uncoupled.
    And what, by unfettered certainty, is gained from this hectic jumble?
    The tyrant's bliss: in the cast of his gaze, all is rendered anew.
    Torn not by abatement's pleas he unmakes all that is true.
     
    Earth seized by misshapen claws dismantled and broken.
    Cry now 'til tears are spent for Chaos has spoken.
    Out, hie thee hence, from the master all must flee.
    Discord reigns forever in manic chortling hilarity.
  3. eightbithoof

    Self Loathing

    By eightbithoof,

    Preface:
    As I think through how to begin on this topic, I am repeatedly struck by the thought: "well, duh!" (In Pinkie Pie's voice, as a matter of fact.) I find it so strange that lessons I've learned as a child are becoming relevant again at this stage of my life. The simplest of teachings has come back to me and, to my surprise and eventual chagrin, become my salvation.
     
    Self Loathing:
    In my continuing quest to grow beyond my faults - to become the pony I think I should be, the pony I need to be - I've found in necessary to revisit many of the most basic assumptions that make up my self. During the transition from child to adult - the dread teenage years - strange notions were imprinted upon me. Many of which I am discovering are bunk. This learning as a teenager, for me, was largely conducted as an exercise between peers and my contemporaries, it seems, were idiots; but then, so was I - and the past tense of that statement is debatable.
     
    The colts of my generation were taught to be takers. It was never right to give. It was never right to share. It was never right to be courteous or respectful or kind. It was never right to love. Everything - so I was taught - must be approached as a contest. There are only the victorious and the defeated.
     
    Never was I and never will I be a taker. Never. But I thought... I believed that that was what I must be. And so I festered. Trying to be one thing but made of the opposite. I've spent half my life fighting against my own better nature with no real understanding of why. Trying in some twisted way to be strong by giving nothing back - by keeping it all within... This is not the substance of my strength. Mine is a strength born of love.
     
    Dear Princess Celestia, today I learned:
    The truth of self. A lesson that I had heard many times as a child. One that I wish I had understood much sooner. That one, simple, wonderful thought can make all the difference: be true to who you are.
  4. eightbithoof
    A while back, when I joined the forums, someone Brohoof’d a post I made. I was in a punchy mood and thought, “why can’t I Brohoof their Brohoof?”
     
    Well, that Idea festered and eventually became this comic. Not sure how funny anyone will find it, but it forced me to work through some new (for me) ideas in drawing; so it was worth it for that, if nothing else.
     
    Enjoy.
     







  5. eightbithoof
    Lately I've been experiencing an odd phenomenon: drawing is more fun then I expect.
     
    To explain, let me set the stage.
     
    First of all, I have a brain full of Equestria. I listen to PMVs and Brony songs all day long. I hop on the Pony side of the internet almost as soon as I get home. I very much want to contribute something cool to the veritable forest of awesome Brony arts'n'stuff out there. The desire to create is there.
     
    On the other hoof, my job is mentally exhausting. I'm a programmer. My work runs the gamut from theory to creation. I spend all day thinking in systems of abstractions and then building machines from those systems. Every. Day.
     
    When I get home I eventually reach a point where I decide that I should draw for a bit. Every time I have the same thought: "Eh, I'm a bit tired this evening. Maybe I'll just skip drawing today."
     
    Now the strange: when I force my way past this initial burst of lazy and actually begin to work, it is awesome. I feel invigorated. Even though I'm a far cry from the artist I want to be, it feels so good to work on this stuff. It actually takes a force of will for me to stop and get some sleep.
     
    I love it.
  6. eightbithoof
    Preface:
    I have not fully come to terms with the nature or scope of the change that has gripped me. I do know that it coincided with becoming a Brony and that it has grown since I became openly Brony with my friends and family. I cannot tell if the change was triggered by the act of becoming a Brony or if it simply allowed me to be more receptive to the idea of Bronyhood.
     
    In any case...
     
    Cynicism:
    I am weary unto death of cynicism masquerading as enlightenment. I find no value in casting everyone I meet in the light of the villain. If everyone was this devoid of virtue, I would be surrounded by abject anarchy; by desolation. Yet I live in a land of great bounty - and that includes the human factor. There are people all around me that want nothing more than to fill their lives with happiness. Who am I to judge them so harshly? Who am I to strain their actions though the sieve of the cynic?
     
    One obvious rejoinder at this point would be to underscore that some people prey upon one another and that cynicism is a defense against such acts. This is bunk. To reject cynicism is not to welcome, with open arms, every stranger into your home or every strange idea into your thoughts; straw man me not in this. I will not leave myself defenseless, I simply refuse to assume treachery. I refuse to expect villainy.
     
    Dear Princess Celestia, today I learned:
    The value of peace. I cannot speak for anyone outside of myself but, for me, being a cynic stole my peace. As a cynic, I saw each person as an obstacle or an adversary. In retrospect, I wonder how many friends I've lost by never beginning the friendship in the first place. I wonder how many chances at love have slipped past. I wonder how many opportunities for joy I have left behind, never explored. All because I insisted that I knew that the person beside me was heinous and empty.
     
    I was once a cynic and it seems I was once a hypocrite too.
  7. eightbithoof
    Since I became a Brony, I've fiddled with the notion of telling my friends and family. I always assumed that I'd be met with scorn and mockery. But, I don't like to hide things. I enjoy being open and comfortable with my friends and family. So the idea persisted...
     
    Then I began drawing, and I began to ponder the strange fact that I wouldn't be able to share my best work (that is, ponies ) with my friends and family. I thought, at first, that I could draw two sets of art: one of the ponies and one of... something else. I found a strange ennui overtook me when drawing things outside of the fandom. You see, it was my love of MLP:FiM that led me to take up drawing in the first place. It's where my passion for the art lies. I think, in time, I'll branch out and begin to draw other subjects. But, for now, Equestria fills the right side of my brain.
     
    A few days back, I thought 'what the hay!' and told a friend of mine about my newly discovered passion. Once he understood what I was talking about - he had never heard of Bronies, you see - he said, 'ok.' Literally. That was it. Now, admittedly, this friend is active duty army. He has been around the world and is largely inured to culture shock. But still, I was shocked at how easy it all was.
     
    I went a bit further and told my father... who responded with the same basic 'ok.' Again. (At this point, my fantastic left brain began to detect a pattern.) Now, my father was, once upon a time, a hippie. A group that tends, at least in my experience, to be accepting. But still...
     
    I went a bit further and told my mother, she asked to see my work! o.O And then complimented it! O.o!!
     
    From there it was easy, I put a message out to my extended family and friends that included a description of Bronies, some interesting links (including Lets go Meet the Bronies) and lastly, a pic of Rainbow Dash with the caption "I'm a Brony. Deal with it." Aaand, nothing. Or rather, nothing bad. I got a couple of compliments on one of my OCs and a Brohoof. That was all.
     
    Where I am now: I have been a Brony for around one year; I've been drawing ponies for two weeks; I've been open about being a Brony with my friends and family for roughly forty-eight hours.
     
    I feel much better now. I'm glad I did it and thrilled that I can share my arts'n'stuff with those I love.
     
    Peace.
  8. eightbithoof

    Of Play-Doh

    By eightbithoof,

    Today I found a small tub of pink Play-Doh. I used it to make a small pony and put it on my desk at work. It was worth a few laughs from my boss and coworkers until…
     
    One coworker mentioned Bronies and then explained, briefly, the fandom to my boss. After hearing the fruits of that conversation, I am very glad that no one here knows that I’m a Brony.
     
    I often wish I could be more open about this sort of thing in my life. I suppose that I should be thankful that my friends and family are accepting of it. Although, truth be told, I don’t think my parents really grasp the concept. Either way, thankful.
     
    Still.
     
    It would be nice to be able to have say, a Rainbow Dash toy, sitting on my desk to cheer up my day. Or to wear a Pinkie Pie shirt in the office once in a while. I want to believe that I could show off my art to my coworkers and not be met with scorn. But, I know what would happen if I tried.
     
    Eh, I’m not even sure where I was going with this… just rambling I suppose. I just feel sad that there is this thing in my life that means so much to me, that the people around me don’t understand and won’t accept.
     
    Ah well, next time I’ll make a cat, I guess.
  9. eightbithoof

    dust

    By eightbithoof,

    dust that lies upon the floor
    stirred by breath that flows once more
    from dreams whose roots have always been
    dust that never moves again
  10. eightbithoof

    Precis of Pain

    By eightbithoof,

    Preface
     
    Words, it seems, are a poor medium for expressing the roots of suffering. The tears I've shed tonight map my journey with far greater clarity then I will ever dictate. Yet, I want... I need...
     
    Precis of Pain
     
    I am a troubled man.
     
    (( Strike now, that shadowed cast, that fretful simulacrum; ))
     
    The events of my life have conspired to... no. No ascribing blame. I did this to myself. That only makes it worse, really. I have evolved into a mass of contradictions; slowly becoming exactly the kind of person I grew to hate: static, biased, petty, afraid. Unwilling to learn. Unwilling to love. Unwilling to live.
     
    (( Burnt upon the path by the hushed glow of the distant moon. ))
     
    I've carried this burden for so long. I find that even as I set the stone aside my back remains bent, my muscles tearing with the memory of the weight. As I change, as I undo the damage I inflicted upon myself so long ago, I find myself seeking a new stone to take up. I range within, seeking new faults to devour.
     
    (( Render the twisted conceit anew with each labored step. ))
     
    I no longer know my path. I no longer know my destination. I only know that to remain as I was is death.
     
    (( Song of Night, the gentle embrace, weaver of peace ))
     
    I will go forward of course. It makes sense, I suppose. Needs must I have all my options stripped from me to clearly see what should have been obvious all along. My light is gone. I must stretch anew; growing toward the sun.
     
    (( Whispers: "stand, in defiance of all, with joy in your heart." ))
     
    Time will, as it always does. I must hence, whether I will or no. Now, at least, I can shed this weight and walk unburdened into the fading light.
     
    (( "For Day shines bright, child of man, and you are not yet done." ))
     
    I am a troubled man, but I am healing, and I am not yet done.
  11. eightbithoof
    The Show Stoppers
     
    In brief, the Show Stoppers is a slice-of-life story featuring the Cutie Mark Crusaders: Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. The show opens w/ Applejack gifting the CMCs with a club house located in a secluded corner of Sweet Apple Acres. After some irony building and foreshadowing, the CMCs embark on many and varied activities, from the ordinary to the absurd, in an attempt to earn their cutie marks. This continues until the school teacher, Cheerilee, informs the CMCs of the upcoming school talent show. The remainder of the episode is preparation for the talent show, the talent show itself and the aftermath.
     
    Dear Princess Celestia, today I learned that the Cutie Mark Crusaders are insane…
     
    Jobs
     
    It is, however, the segment wherein the CMCs scamper around Ponyville in a frantic binge of random activities that interests me the most. I know it’s a fairly small slice of the episode, but I think it’s most fun part of the episode.
     
    Here’s a list of the jobs they tackled in order:
    Feeding Pigs
    Candy Making
    Hair Care
    Mind Reading
    Mountain Climbing
    Snorkeling/Scuba Diving
    Librarian

    (Btw, the squid cracks me up and I don’t know why)
     

    rawr
     
    All of which is set to some cheery… erm, “on the go” music. Of course, the CMCs flub every attempt at a job.
     
    Permission
     
    Now, here’s my question: Did the Cutie Mark Crusaders get permission to try all of those jobs?
    It is my head canon that they did not. Which makes it especially amusing in the case of dirtying (or possibly damaging) the Cake’s taffy pull machine (I thinkthat that was what that machine was)
     

     
    …and the circus clown hair dye.
     

     
    I think our little frantic filly foals simply barreled around town stealing, breaking-and-entering and destroying property in their quest to find their destinies.
     
    Cutie Mark Crusaders, Juvenile Delinquents! Yay!
     
    Thoughts?
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