REALLY? I MEAN, REALLY?
So in other non-MY STOMACH IS TRYING TO KILL ME news, I decided to try reading Neon Exodus Evangelion again. I don't know why. The last time I tried, I stopped midway through out of a mixture of disgust and boredom. I also don't know why the TV Tropes page for it is so glowing. Even if you accept that DJ is a stealth parody or ~deconstruction~ of Mary Sues/Gary Stus and not, you know, the genuine article (which I don't), it's still pretty awful. It's filled with bloated prose, unnecessarily detailed descriptions ("DJ tucked his book into his pack, shut off the light, pulled it off the wall, folded it into a small oblong package, and slipped it into the pack as well."), pointless scenes, and general OOC-ness (especially in regards to the characters the author doesn't like). Hell, the author moves NERV HQ to his hometown, which is never a good sign, imo.
But I was trying to overlook all that. I was trying to see the interesting AU that's apparently buried underneath. And then...I reached a scene about three-quarters of the way through Chapter 2 that I had totally forgotten about. It blindsided me and brought me to a height of rage I cannot remember this fic ever inducing in me when I read it last.
I was forgiving a lot for you, NXE. But this? This I will not forgive.
[Misato] stopped short, regarding DJ with an odd expression.
"What?" he replied, returning her stare blankly.
"What were you planning to do with that?" she demanded, pointing accusingly at the beer.
DJ glanced down at the can, then returned his eyes to Misato, the confusion in them unabated. "I was planning to drink it," he replied slowly. "Man's not allowed to a beer in his own home after a hard day's work?"
"Not when that man is seven years from the legal drinking age!"
DJ looked infinitely confused for a moment; then the clouds cleared and he slapped his forehead with the heel of his free hand. "Bugger all! I knew there was a reason I didn't want to come to the States. Misato, keep in mind I'm from England, eh? I've been drinking best bitter at the local for years now."
Misato wavered. "But... I'm supposed to be your guardian," she replied. "It's illegal."
"I'm not supposed to have a gun either, but you let me keep mine," DJ pointed out.
"That's different," Misato replied. "You're a NERV operative now, that makes you a kind of military personnel. We can make exceptions to the weapons laws."
"What about the vehicle laws?"
"What about them?"
"Back home I had a motorcycle."
"The -driving- age in England isn't discretionary!" Misato protested, as if indignant that he was changing the rules of the argument.
"I come from an unusual profession," DJ replied with a shrug. [Because his mother is Lara Croft, you guys.] "Sometimes we make our own rules. Anyway, I want to get another one to get around with here - there are no bloody trains in this city and it's way too far to work to walk."
Misato considered. "We might be able to swing that," she said after a moment, "but you're changing the subject."
"C'mon," replied DJ scornfully, taking another drink. "I can pilot a 300-foot robot against the Forces of Evil, but I can't have a beer? This -not- an incentive against me just pissing off back to Old Blighty. I've a much bigger house back there, y'know, a manservant I'm quite fond of, proper warm beer, and no job that involves... what did dear Ritsuko-of-the-Ripcord call it, neural feedback." He gave an exaggerated shiver. "What a bloody awful thought that is."
"You're threatening to leave the project and go back to England if I won't let you drink -beer-?"
"No," replied DJ, "I'll drink it anyway, but if you won't accept that, things'll get awfully tense."
Privately, Misato was impressed. DJ was calm, centered, self-assured, all things Dr. Ikari's son Shinji had singularly failed to show during the brief time (perhaps an hour) he'd been in Worcester-3.
...
...
...
...
DJ is not a stealth parody or a deconstruction of Gary Stus. He flat out is one. Stop trying to insist otherwise when the text comes out and outright says, "LOOK AT ME DJ, ISN'T HE SO MUCH BETTER THAN SHINJI!?"
Idiots.
But I was trying to overlook all that. I was trying to see the interesting AU that's apparently buried underneath. And then...I reached a scene about three-quarters of the way through Chapter 2 that I had totally forgotten about. It blindsided me and brought me to a height of rage I cannot remember this fic ever inducing in me when I read it last.
I was forgiving a lot for you, NXE. But this? This I will not forgive.
[Misato] stopped short, regarding DJ with an odd expression.
"What?" he replied, returning her stare blankly.
"What were you planning to do with that?" she demanded, pointing accusingly at the beer.
DJ glanced down at the can, then returned his eyes to Misato, the confusion in them unabated. "I was planning to drink it," he replied slowly. "Man's not allowed to a beer in his own home after a hard day's work?"
"Not when that man is seven years from the legal drinking age!"
DJ looked infinitely confused for a moment; then the clouds cleared and he slapped his forehead with the heel of his free hand. "Bugger all! I knew there was a reason I didn't want to come to the States. Misato, keep in mind I'm from England, eh? I've been drinking best bitter at the local for years now."
Misato wavered. "But... I'm supposed to be your guardian," she replied. "It's illegal."
"I'm not supposed to have a gun either, but you let me keep mine," DJ pointed out.
"That's different," Misato replied. "You're a NERV operative now, that makes you a kind of military personnel. We can make exceptions to the weapons laws."
"What about the vehicle laws?"
"What about them?"
"Back home I had a motorcycle."
"The -driving- age in England isn't discretionary!" Misato protested, as if indignant that he was changing the rules of the argument.
"I come from an unusual profession," DJ replied with a shrug. [Because his mother is Lara Croft, you guys.] "Sometimes we make our own rules. Anyway, I want to get another one to get around with here - there are no bloody trains in this city and it's way too far to work to walk."
Misato considered. "We might be able to swing that," she said after a moment, "but you're changing the subject."
"C'mon," replied DJ scornfully, taking another drink. "I can pilot a 300-foot robot against the Forces of Evil, but I can't have a beer? This -not- an incentive against me just pissing off back to Old Blighty. I've a much bigger house back there, y'know, a manservant I'm quite fond of, proper warm beer, and no job that involves... what did dear Ritsuko-of-the-Ripcord call it, neural feedback." He gave an exaggerated shiver. "What a bloody awful thought that is."
"You're threatening to leave the project and go back to England if I won't let you drink -beer-?"
"No," replied DJ, "I'll drink it anyway, but if you won't accept that, things'll get awfully tense."
Privately, Misato was impressed. DJ was calm, centered, self-assured, all things Dr. Ikari's son Shinji had singularly failed to show during the brief time (perhaps an hour) he'd been in Worcester-3.
...
...
...
...
DJ is not a stealth parody or a deconstruction of Gary Stus. He flat out is one. Stop trying to insist otherwise when the text comes out and outright says, "LOOK AT ME DJ, ISN'T HE SO MUCH BETTER THAN SHINJI!?"
Idiots.