On knockoffs

So the Task that I was nattering about for a few days there was building the Lanter Fish— no, not a “lantern fish,” we’re going to respect the Chinese misspelling here– which represents the first not-a-Lego set I’ve ever ordered. And as you can see, it looks pretty fucking cool– the jaw moves up and down, and the little light is actually a light– the Amazon listing claims you can use it as a lamp, which is hilariously wrong, but it is an actual working light.

At 1038 pieces for $35 or so, it’s probably less than half of what you’d pay if it had LEGO on all of the pieces, and there are a couple of places where you’re going to suffer for that difference, because there are definitely some quality of life issues involved in putting this thing together that Lego ironed out years if not decades ago.

Let’s start with this, the contents of Bag 2:

Perhaps you haven’t put a Lego set together in a while: the pieces come in numbered bags, and there’s usually fifty to a hundred pieces in a bag, sometimes even fewer. This set had three big bags, each of which had five or six smaller bags inside that bag:

The problem is that, while I can see some organization in terms of which pieces were in which bag, that organization has nothing to do with the order they’re put together in, so you have to open all five of those bags right away, because the first three steps might involve pieces from all five bags. That means you’re sorting through hundreds of pieces to find whatever you may happen to be looking for for any given step, which slows everything way the hell down. I am not the type to pre-organize my pieces before building, but that feels way more essential with these sets. It took me easily twenty minutes of searching for one particular piece, which I eventually found stuck inside another piece. Now, that could happen with a Lego set too, but there would be a fifth as many pieces inside the bag, so it would still have been much easier to locate.

The other thing: I’ve occasionally wondered why Lego chooses the random colors they do for the pieces you can’t see, and have speculated that it was maybe a product of whatever they had a lot of lying around or something– was there a reason this piece was red and not blue? Sometimes the answer is yes, but in putting this set together I’ve realized a couple of other reasons to vary the colors:

  1. Easily 90 percent of this set is black(*), and any piece that isn’t black is going to be grey or dark brown, which blends in with black pretty damn well. The eyes are the only red pieces in the entire set. This makes it really hard to pick out individual small pieces in a pile of parts, especially when you’re stupid enough to try to build the set on a desk with a black surface, like I did.
  2. It helps with orientation when you’re looking at the instructions– not just “Okay, the 2×6 brick needs to be facing up,” but “the 2×6 blue brick needs to be facing up,” which is a big difference.

I spent a lot more time than usual pondering the instructions on this set and making small mistakes that I had to undo later, and it just led to more respect for the fucking geniuses Lego has creating their instruction manuals over there. They do this thing where all of the new pieces in a step are in color (mostly) and everything else is greyed out, and I can see why they decided to do that– it’s a lot easier to pick out the new parts, and one of the most common mistakes you will make with a Lego set is not noticing a specific part you were supposed to add on a certain step– but the printing quality of the manual was not high in the first place, and what it often meant was that the instructions were just hard to understand. There were also a few steps where you were building things in a way that would never fly in a Lego set, and instructions where you were adding things to the bottom of stuff you already had built, which was a huge pain in the ass.

That said? The lanter fish looks pretty fucking cool, and at that price I’ll put up with some nonsense.

(*) All black, yes, but a gorgeous, pearlescent black that is really hard to capture in pictures. I love the color of this thing.

Monthly Reads: April 2026

If this looks super light, well, that’s because by my standards it obviously is, but also I started Tom’s Crossing on the last day of March and it was twelve hundred freaking pages long.

Book of the Month is Cursed Daughters, with The Door on the Sea and The Reanimator’s Fate very close behind. I’m enjoying For Whom The Belle Tolls way, way, way more than I thought I would, but I’m not done with it yet so it isn’t eligible.

Unread Shelf: April 30, 2026

Looks kinda rough, right? Hahaha you have no idea:

And we aren’t fucking done:

Minor milestone: this will be the final Unread Shelf for the bookshelf in the top picture, which has hosted my unread books since I began this series ten thousand years ago. It is being replaced this weekend with something sturdier and just barely wider, and also I can never leave the house again because I have too much to read.

Still no!

The Task remains incomplete, mostly because we devoted the evening to getting other tasks completed, among which: purchasing new glasses for the boy and I (I am about to, for the first time since I was a child, transition to plastic frames) and a new graduation suit for the boy. Didn’t get home until 8, and I have been diligently pecking away but it’s not done yet. Maybe we’ll double-post tomorrow, we’ll see.

Well, that didn’t work

I was going to write a post about an annoying-but-hopefully-ultimately-rewarding task that I set myself to complete tonight (take the word “task” with salt) except, oops, I didn’t actually finish it. Which kind of leaves me without a post and without the possible “ultimately rewarding” bit, because I think I might die if I continue working on said task.

On the plus side, I had a meeting tomorrow that I wasn’t looking forward to, and then I realized that I was the chairperson of the committee that I don’t want to go to the meeting of, so I emailed everybody and said “Hey, I’ve really got nothing to say tomorrow. Y’all mind if the meeting is an email?” So far the only person to respond is the principal, who was fine with cancelling (she hasn’t attended the last few anyway) but she’s the big boss so we are totally making the meeting an email.

Anyway, maybe we’ll do that post tomorrow night. We’ll see if The Task gets completed or not.

Oh wow

Not to step on my own book review, but at some point this month the blog crossed over a million all-time page views.

Amazing. Thanks, everyone.

#REVIEW: Cursed Daughters, by Oyinkan Braithwaite

This is going to be one of those reviews where I talk more about myself than the book, so … brace yourself, I suppose.

I frequently make snap decisions about books. I learn of their existence and thirty seconds later money has left my bank account and a couple of days later I have a book. The problem comes when I don’t read that book immediately, and it gets worse when it sits on my Unread Shelf for four months.

(There are two books on that shelf that have been there longer. Soon. I swear.)

I have no idea why I purchased Oyinkan Braithwaite’s Cursed Daughters. No idea if someone recommended it to me, if I came across the author on BlueSky and decided I liked her … nothing. And by the time I got to it, I’d also completely forgotten what the book actually was. See, that cover kinda yells “fantasy” at me? And the book has the same physical format and size as every hardcover YA book I’ve bought for years. And note the “from the author of” at the bottom. Come on! You’re telling me My Sister, the Serial Killer somehow isn’t genre fiction??

Cursed Daughters is not a fantasy novel and it is absolutely not YA. It is, in fact, hated Litratcher.

It’s fucking brilliant.

I keep saying this, over and over: you should read more books by Nigerians, goddammit. The book scene out of Nigeria is amazing right now.

This is the second time this year I’ve had to apply the word “brilliant” to a work of genreless Literary Fiction. I remain salty about it. Because this is the only book I’ve read this year that came close to Tom’s Crossing. I need the swords and lasers and magic contingent to step up their damn game, is what I’m saying.

At the beginning of the book a Nigerian woman intentionally walks into the ocean to die. The same day, her cousin Ebun gives birth to a daughter. The baby resembles the dead woman, Monife, to such a degree that Monife and Ebun’s mothers immediately decide that the baby is Monife reincarnated. Ebun is … unconvinced, and frankly quite a bit upset by the entire thing. There is also the minor matter of a generations-old family curse, that no woman of this family can be happy in love.

It’s still not a fantasy book. There’s some traditional beliefs mixed into a book set in the modern day in Lagos, and there’s a juju woman as a minor side character, but it’s not a fantasy book. Ebun believes none of this nonsense, and her daughter Eniiyi wants nothing to do with it either, but has to live her entire life in her dead semicousin’s shadow. She dreams of Monife occasionally, and by the end of the book genuinely resents the effect on her life that this woman she’s never met has. She remains Monife’s spitting image, so when she occasionally runs into people who knew Monife she either provokes shock or is genuinely thought to be a ghost. And as her great-aunt gets older, she begins regularly mistaking Eniiyi for Monife, and eventually her dementia increases to the point where she forgets Eniiyi exists at all.

The book follows three generations of the family, with Ebun and Monife in the middle, and jumps back and forth from the nineties to modern day. You eventually learn why Monife chose to walk into the water, and I’m not going to spoil anything but God damn does it end well— like, “I gasped and had to put the book down for a minute” well. I started this yesterday afternoon, read a chapter or two and put it down. When I picked it up again in bed last night it cost me at least an hour of sleep, and I got home from work today and sat down in my chair and didn’t get up again until I finished it.

Absolutely phenomenal work. I ordered My Sister, the Serial Killer about ten minutes ago. It’ll be here tomorrow. Oyinkan Braithwaite is on my “buy immediately” list forever now, and I’d really like to know what the circumstances were that brought this book onto my radar. If it was you, thank you very much.

Oh whatever

At this point I don’t even want to hear it. If this dipshit last night at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner counts as an “assassin,” language has lost all meaning. There’s a grainy black and white video floating around of a guy, presumably the “shooter,” although I’m not convinced he actually fired any shots, running right past security. One of the guards pulls his gun immediately and opens fire directly at several other guards. Apparently one person got shot and their vest stopped it; until satisfactorily proven otherwise I’m going to assume it was from that one specific gun-brained idiot.

I’m sorry, maybe I’ve been poisoned by decades of comic books and movies, but I feel like if someone’s going to call you an assassin you need a better plan than “run past security, on the wrong floor, ???, profit.” That’s an underpants gnome, not an assassin. I’ve seen a reference to a manifesto a couple of times, which is another word that I think is probably getting overused. Apparently dude had a Bluesky account, and he followed a lot of people who I also follow. He did not follow me, which I am faintly disappointed by.

I continue, somehow, and despite all evidence, to be shocked by the incompetence of the Secret Service and the security in general at this event. I’m a fucking overweight middle school teacher and I’m not allowed to tackle people much less shoot at them and I halt people running through hallways multiple times a week. These candyasses barely even react other than to react wrongly, and apparently not only did they let Trump fall on the way out of the goddamned dinner, they got Vance out first.

(Yes, he’s old. But you know why he shouldn’t have fallen? Because they should have been fucking carrying him. Each of those agents should have had a hand on his belt. Good luck dropping to the ground as they’re hustling you out of the room under those circumstances.)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, staged, false flag, blah blah blah. These people are the biggest fucking liars on the planet and they’re also complete fucking morons and that makes it difficult to discern actual incompetence from feigned incompetence, and I have no idea why feigned incompetence would be a thing in the first place. I feel like if I was going to stage a goddamned assassination attempt on the president of the United States I could figure out a way to make it not look stupid. If these have both been staged, they did a shit job both times. This is fucking exhausting. I don’t care any more. I don’t want to hear about any future assassination attempts unless they’re fucking successful at this point. Don’t even bother reporting about them.

God, I hate it here.

(Regarding the photo: if the newspapers can print smiling, posed photos of white men after they kill their families, I can sure as shit use that one.)