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Blog: Perfectly, deliciously evil
Description: The blog for the wiki, dedicated toward the advancement of evilcraft by supervillains and malignant geniuses of all sorts.
Created by GrinningSkull on Fri 12 of Sept., 2008 22:00 EDT
Last post Mon 22 of Oct., 2012 21:50 EDT
(206 Posts | 181133 Visits | Activity=2.00)

You primates are all the same

I am sure everyone reading this has had an experience or two where they had to deal with a person on a level not much higher than they would with one of their somewhat more hairy cousins on the evolutionary tree. Maybe more yelling and gesturing than you are accustomed to using. And a distinct whiff of something strong. But you pressed onward as any self-respecting villain would, and came to some kind of conclusion, though you felt vaguely dirty afterwards. Congratulations, you are well on your way to mastery of the main techniques of How to get apes to accept you as their leader.

The main thing that strikes me about this family of creatures is the preoccupation they all seem to have about hair: the length and shininess, whether it is colored or is turning white or gray, whether it is falling out (annoying everyone else around), pulling the hair of your enemy, and so forth. I know cats have that thing where they lick all their fur (disgusting), as do most other non-primate mammals, but even they don't seem to have quite so much of their lives revolving around the stuff. I have had the opportunity to verify that it was also the case with mountain gorillas, nearly to the point of obsession I thought. Me, when I slip out of my scales I don't care to look back afterwards, it's over and done with.


Hey, I'm just not that into this debacle

Picture the following: your army is in rout, your compound is engulfed in flames, your temple has been reduced to ruin, your minions are nowhere to be found, and you have reason to believe that your bulletproof shield isn't. Does it make sense to press onward, or is it better to practice the art of How to walk away from defeat? Only you in your innermost shriveled heart can know for sure in any particular circumstance, but one thing is certain: every evil mastermind has his or her own point beyond which it no longer makes sense to continue the struggle.

I have been vanquished, myself, more times than I care to dwell upon. Still, I am pleased to say that every single blowout I have been on the receiving end of has taught me something I was able to make use of in later situations, and that each has ultimately made me a better villain. Painful as the experiences have been at the time, the sting of defeat has helped make the heady rush of victory that much more delightful knowing what my victims were feeling at the time through something one might almost call empathy. Except for that one time where I had all that nasty cold slime dumped into the intakes of my Null-A fighter-bomber just when I had the allied command post in my sights - that one I really would want to have as a do-over if I could.

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Outta my way, I got things to do!

So you were just about ready to go on an evil rampage, but someone's gone and dropped a huge meteorite on your deep space base of operations. Or maybe there's a scrum of oil tankers clogging the harbor mouth of your volcanic island. Or there's a seriously massive hill troll with attitude blocking the view of the mountain peak carved in your likeness. In any case you find yourself faced with the need to find out How to move an immovable object of one sort or another. We are not dealing here with the sort of thing which is simply inconvenient to move given enough motive force (say something involving ten thousand minions hauling on ropes), but that which you really have no hope or intention of relocating. Fortunately there is more than one way of dealing with this kind of barrier once you rid yourself of your preconceived notions regarding what you face.

We present ten, for your edification.

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Sometimes I think people believe that just anyone can do this kind of work

Now this kind of thing sometimes just annoys me to no end. Behold how Starfish Hitler (external link) mostly just waves his little stick around to direct his minions to wade into the fray one at a time, hanging back until the boys are too knocked around or doused to be a factor. Then he goes one on one with the so-called Kamen Rider X, without a gun or any decent weaponry, clearly not as well up on his physical conditioning as one would like, and gets beat. Twice. Our villains don't even try to trip the helmet dude or distract him so someone else can stick him from behind, but do that silly thing about waiting to take their turns. There's a kind of a blaster moment, but our friend neglects to lead his target sufficiently and the explosion takes place several yard behind where it might do some damage to the opponent. They fight underwater and Starfish Hitler neglects to make good use of his aquatic nature by getting the rider to drown messily in the process.

I know these are probably not the best moments for Starfish Hitler-san, but it is just depressing and awful and embarrassing to see anyway. It's enough to make one weep, sometimes.

People, this isn't just child's play. Don't you know you have to spend a moment or two planning? And practicing?

I need a moment. There, that's better.

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Three hundred's a crowd

You have done the crime but do not want to do the time when it comes to disposing of all those victims. But you also don't want them stinking up the place as they go to dust, so what do you do? That would attract vermin. The answer, however, isn't just to go out and start plowing up the nearest field with a backhoe, for that way lies future regret and disappointment. The interested reader is directed to the wiki page on How to plan a mass grave for a few tips which might well smooth the way toward a mass grave you can be proud of for years to come.

The funny thing is how the mindset of a professional evil villain tends to go counter to what would make for a first-rate mass grave. We are so conditioned to think of the bodycount as a problem — a festering, rank problem — instead of the opportunity it actually is. For how could one ask for a better way to immortalize one's fell deeds than concretely, in the remains of those who felt them most directly? The casual onlooker cannot help but be impressed by the sheer number of body parts and personal effects, linking them irrevocably to the illustrious author of mayhem in a wa that is not easy to shake from his or her mind. No one else (with the possible exceptions of mechanized war and of Mother Nature) could be the cause of such large-scale carnage, and the best thing about it is that you can savor the lamentations of the survivors nearly right away, without having to wait for the history books to be written.

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