Another bit of weird and interesting news. I mentioned a while back about how Gamefly was working out really well for me, because it costs about as much as a new game every 3 months and lets me play 1-2 per month. Well, that only works when the games actually show up in the mail, which apparently wasn't the case for some two thousand games in Philadelphia.
A US Postal worker, by the name of Reginald Johnson, has apparently been swiping every Gamefly game he could get his nerdy little hands on. In total, authorities attribute the theft of 2,200 games to this man, for a grand total of about $86,000. This was over the course of just six months, and it's expected he may have been doing this for well over a year.
The best part is when these oh-so-elite federal agents finally noticed the one guy stealing tens of thousands of dollars worth of mail per month, they botched the arrest, and Mr. Johnson managed to slip past them and into his SUV. He immediately floored it, and crashed shortly after. He was then finally apprehended while trying to escape on foot.
I hope you all appreciate the irony of a man who probably stole at least a hundred copies of GTA 4 having relived one of it's most classic "fail" moments. I'll bet this man will spend the next year in jail waiting for the "Retry" option to pop up.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Why the Hell aren't I notified about these things!?
I want you to imagine that you walk out of your home one day, and suddenly notice that there is a grand stage set up across the street. Upon that stage, Jesus Christ and a small contingent of samurai warriors are doing battle with a horde of velociraptors. Holy shit, you ironically think to yourself, since when did something so awesome start happening right at my doorstep. However, as you watch the scene unfold, you realize that this and similar bouts of awesome have been taking place on a daily basis right in this very spot, and you've somehow managed to go all this time without noticing it.
This is how Brutal Legend made me feel about metal. Now I've never been an avid fan of any particular genre of music, and I still probably never will be, but somehow I've gone all this time without noticing how awesome some of these bands are. They've been around, I've heard their stuff on the radio and at parties, and Theo has probably ruptured my eardrums with some of it on more than one occasion, but somehow I just never noticed that I like this stuff.
Then again, when you're riding a magical, fire-breathing muscle car through a barren wasteland populated by things like Laser Panthers and Raptor Elks, it's a lot easier to listen to. The artwork in this game really does set it apart. It would be most easily described by saying that it looks like a Megadeth album cover. It would be more accurate to say that it looks like somebody gave Tim Schaeffer a bunch of acid, locked him in a room with nothing but a giant sound system and a bunch of Slayer, Omen, and Judas Priest albums, and then told him he had to make a video game before he was allowed to go to bed.
The game world isn't just filled with references to the various forms of metal, it is inspired almost entirely by it. Trees have exhaust pipes instead of branches. Mountains have been hewn into the shape of rock fingers and bass guitars. A giant, ancient highway runs throughout the land. It is filled with some of the most awesome animals ever conceived, like the Guillosaur (a combination of a dinosaur and a guillotine) and most of these beasts are ridable.
As if all this wasn't enough, Tim Schaeffer's writing shines just as brightly as it always has, all the more so for Jack Black's delivery in the game's starring role. The supporting cast includes all-star Jennifer Hale (Samus Aran of Metroid) as the love interest, Ozzy Osbourne as the Gaurdian of Metal, and Tim Curry as what can best be described as a slightly more loveable version of Sauron. A host of other faces from the music industry with varying levels of notoriety also make appearances in major and minor roles, as well. The game is always willing to poke fun at itself and its inspiration, but it still takes itself just seriously enough for the plot to be engaging.
Behind this absolutely fabulous facade of pure awesome, the gameplay itself is a mixed bag. It contains elements of a Starcraft-ish RTS, God of War-style hack n'slash, Halo-like vehicle romps, and Dynasty Warriors-ish war scenery. The game doesn't succeed spectacularly at all these things, but it does blend them together into something that can genuinely be described as original. In certain aspects, particularly when driving your car near rough terrain, the controls fall into the realm of mediocrity, but for the most they are intuitive and extremely simplistic.
The upshot of all this is that if the heavily stylistic presentation fails to appeal to you in any way, you're going to find this to be a mediocre title. If you are a fan of metal, or at least receptive to it, you're going to love the game's style too much to be bothered by a few shortcomings in its substance.
Coming up next: Mr. Smith gets a job!!
This is how Brutal Legend made me feel about metal. Now I've never been an avid fan of any particular genre of music, and I still probably never will be, but somehow I've gone all this time without noticing how awesome some of these bands are. They've been around, I've heard their stuff on the radio and at parties, and Theo has probably ruptured my eardrums with some of it on more than one occasion, but somehow I just never noticed that I like this stuff.
Then again, when you're riding a magical, fire-breathing muscle car through a barren wasteland populated by things like Laser Panthers and Raptor Elks, it's a lot easier to listen to. The artwork in this game really does set it apart. It would be most easily described by saying that it looks like a Megadeth album cover. It would be more accurate to say that it looks like somebody gave Tim Schaeffer a bunch of acid, locked him in a room with nothing but a giant sound system and a bunch of Slayer, Omen, and Judas Priest albums, and then told him he had to make a video game before he was allowed to go to bed.
The game world isn't just filled with references to the various forms of metal, it is inspired almost entirely by it. Trees have exhaust pipes instead of branches. Mountains have been hewn into the shape of rock fingers and bass guitars. A giant, ancient highway runs throughout the land. It is filled with some of the most awesome animals ever conceived, like the Guillosaur (a combination of a dinosaur and a guillotine) and most of these beasts are ridable.
As if all this wasn't enough, Tim Schaeffer's writing shines just as brightly as it always has, all the more so for Jack Black's delivery in the game's starring role. The supporting cast includes all-star Jennifer Hale (Samus Aran of Metroid) as the love interest, Ozzy Osbourne as the Gaurdian of Metal, and Tim Curry as what can best be described as a slightly more loveable version of Sauron. A host of other faces from the music industry with varying levels of notoriety also make appearances in major and minor roles, as well. The game is always willing to poke fun at itself and its inspiration, but it still takes itself just seriously enough for the plot to be engaging.
Behind this absolutely fabulous facade of pure awesome, the gameplay itself is a mixed bag. It contains elements of a Starcraft-ish RTS, God of War-style hack n'slash, Halo-like vehicle romps, and Dynasty Warriors-ish war scenery. The game doesn't succeed spectacularly at all these things, but it does blend them together into something that can genuinely be described as original. In certain aspects, particularly when driving your car near rough terrain, the controls fall into the realm of mediocrity, but for the most they are intuitive and extremely simplistic.
The upshot of all this is that if the heavily stylistic presentation fails to appeal to you in any way, you're going to find this to be a mediocre title. If you are a fan of metal, or at least receptive to it, you're going to love the game's style too much to be bothered by a few shortcomings in its substance.
Coming up next: Mr. Smith gets a job!!
Saturday, October 24, 2009
I was her MAN of Honor, Thank You
Recently Theo showed us all some love with a post dedicated to all of his friends. That, and some minor prodding, have motivated me to do likewise.
I'm going to divide mine up among three posts, however, dedicated to my three nearest and dearest friends. Kurt, Evan, Adam, Webb, and company have all been good friends, and I have had many very good times with them. Please do not take this as a slight in any way, but these were the three who have been there my entire adult life. They have been by my side, in one form or another, during my weakest moments. They have shared the best of times with me. I hold for myself no secrets to which this fellowship is not privy.
So here goes:
Walter, for the life of me, I cannot remember being introduced to you. To me, it feels like you were just always there. You were always inspiring me to get off my ass and experience things, usually things that I would otherwise have missed. You cared enough to get pissed at me when I wouldn't tag along just because I felt lazy, and that made my college experience considerably more memorable.
You have a strange knack for always having something appropriate (or delightfully inappropriate) to say for any situation. You have a sense of humor that could lighten the darkest moods, and make the good times even better. Best of all, even in your own darkest hours, you never stop using that humor to brighten everyone else's day.
You've always been one of the most selfless people I've ever known. I remember watching you teach Tae Kwon Do to the youngsters, and seeing a certain compassion that not many possess. You've always been willing to give what you could spare, and in many cases you've been more generous than that. I have no doubt that your kindness and passion will serve you well in your medical career.
I have a lot of memories of you that rank among my fondest. Those occasions on which I accompanied you to Jefferson City, the long nights spent jigging off key to Flogging Molly, all the crazy shit we did in Columbia, and the late nights cramming in the study of the SAE house.
And of course, most of the above memories also included you, Theo. I remember distinctly how we met, and I remember that after losing that bet, you could have easily told me to go to hell when I threw my laundry at you, but you honored the bet, and I am damn grateful that you did. You were the first friend I made after leaving Overland Park, and you remain the best and most steadfast.
I remember how we used to hang out in my room, playing Devil May Cry; or in yours, driving your roommate insane. I remember mounting the side of Rosie as we drove down the street. I recall with vivid horror that one time you convinced me to try and drive that behemoth.
As wonderful as it was to get away from my old haunts, those first few weeks of college were terrifying, and you were the first sign I was given that things were going to be OK. You always had just a little more stones than I did when it came to our nightly jump challenges, but you still managed to push me to my limit, which always made those outings far more worthwhile.
My life has been a far greater adventure with you in it, and I fully expect that this will continue the case.
Also, at this moment, I'm listening to Dethklok, which is an entire genre of music that I never would have been able to enjoy had I not known you.
Finally, there's one more person who it would be utterly criminal not to place on this list. She's not exactly a member of the Holy Trinity described above, but I'm also not willing to divide this list up amongst different posts, lest one or the other feel somehow slighted. So I'll just break this one up.
_____________________________________________________________________
To get some extra spending money, I worked an on-campus job at Westminster. I ended up working in the Mac Lab, because it was literally a do-nothing job where I could laze around or get some homework done. Most days, I only saw a couple of people, if any.
On one of those days, fairly early on in the semester, a girl came in sat down in front of a computer, and began talking to it in a language I didn't recognize. She was apparently practicing for a foreign language class (a requirement for graduation at Westminster) but I didn't know this, so I just saw some crazy chick talking gobbledygook at a computer. She suddenly saw the strange look I was giving her, and quickly stood up and tried to explain herself. She neglected to remove her headphones, however, and ended up catching the right speaker in her eye. It was very funny.
I was quite shy in those days, but after seeing somebody embarrass themselves like that, I was able to summon up the courage to say hi (major accomplishment for me at the time) and actually start a conversation. Unfortunately, I had yet to come out of my shell and so my attempts at communication quickly drifted to a video game reference, (see, it was actually kind of funny if you understood the context, because the locks in the lab had this really weird and contrived way of... oh nevermind) but somehow this did not chase her off. We talked for a bit, exchanged contact information, and quickly became friends.
It was that magical time of life where everybody's still trying to figure out who or what they are, and so anything can be tried once and almost always is forgiven. During those years, she was at different times a mentor, a companion, and on occasion, a lover. Somewhere along the line, the line between those three things grew hazy, and our relationship evolved into something best described as a very dear friend. We have shared in victory and in defeat. At certain times we have been sources of strength and compassion for one another, and at others we have been the bane of each others' existence. Through it all, however, she has remained the dearest of friends. She calls me on my bullshit, she listens to my problems, and she sees me in ways that I often can't even see myself. Her council and companionship are dear to me, even when they lead me astray.
I don't think it's ever been a secret that I am very much in love with Andrea Wimberly. It's not about physical intimacy (frankly, we never did work as a couple) so much as the fact that she just gets me. She can call me on my bullshit, and I can call her on hers. We can't really lie to each other (although each of us lets the other think they can on occasion) even about matters on which we lie to ourselves. She has a perspective and insight that has been indispensable to me on many occasions. I can almost always trust her, and I know her well enough to know when and why I can't.
And what's more, this chick is a badass. A drunken frat boy once locked her in a room with him, and tried to have his way with her; she ripped his arm out of its socket. I am not making this up. Our old boss at Little Caesar's regularly shorted her on the gas money she was promised for her deliveries. That man lost his franchise. Again, not making this up. I won't even go into the shenanigans that her very psychotic roommate tried to pull, but it involved me both Andrea and myself being accused of some very ridiculous (and utterly false) things in a court of law. We only had to give up an afternoon explaining the situation, and she got stuck with the court costs. Since then we've both more or less forgotten she ever existed (I actually had to think for a minute to remember her name) but she is apparently still ranting and blogging about how much she hates us. Dre just has a way of dealing with things, and I mean that in a Godfather kind of way. It makes her very useful to have around, but don't ever, ever get on her bad side, or fuck with any of her friends. Seriously.
And most importantly, when the chips are down, I trust this broad. They say a good friend will kill for you, but- and I say this in all seriousness- I would call Andrea if by some inconceivable circumstance I had killed somebody, and needed to dispose of the body. She would not ask questions and she would not bat an eye, she would just help.
About a year ago, I was asked to be at her side during the wedding. A few months later, that crappy Made of Honor movie came out, and I'm still waiting for my royalty check. After the wedding, she would be off to Turkey with Carl, and I still remember her coworkers begging me to talk her out of it, because they weren't sure the office would be able to function without her. If any of them are (for some reason I can't fathom) reading this, please know that I tried my absolute best.
I still talk to her regularly, and we see each other from time to time, but we'll probably never live in the same city again, and more's the pity. But we had some real good times, and I'm sure that we've got an adventure or two left in us.
So this wraps up my three major credits. I think that Evan and Kurt and several others are still worthy of mention, but these three are my Musketeers. These are the friends for whom I would gladly take a bullet. I would give a kidney to any one of these three. Dre, Walt, Theo: I love you guys.
I'm going to divide mine up among three posts, however, dedicated to my three nearest and dearest friends. Kurt, Evan, Adam, Webb, and company have all been good friends, and I have had many very good times with them. Please do not take this as a slight in any way, but these were the three who have been there my entire adult life. They have been by my side, in one form or another, during my weakest moments. They have shared the best of times with me. I hold for myself no secrets to which this fellowship is not privy.
So here goes:
Walter, for the life of me, I cannot remember being introduced to you. To me, it feels like you were just always there. You were always inspiring me to get off my ass and experience things, usually things that I would otherwise have missed. You cared enough to get pissed at me when I wouldn't tag along just because I felt lazy, and that made my college experience considerably more memorable.
You have a strange knack for always having something appropriate (or delightfully inappropriate) to say for any situation. You have a sense of humor that could lighten the darkest moods, and make the good times even better. Best of all, even in your own darkest hours, you never stop using that humor to brighten everyone else's day.
You've always been one of the most selfless people I've ever known. I remember watching you teach Tae Kwon Do to the youngsters, and seeing a certain compassion that not many possess. You've always been willing to give what you could spare, and in many cases you've been more generous than that. I have no doubt that your kindness and passion will serve you well in your medical career.
I have a lot of memories of you that rank among my fondest. Those occasions on which I accompanied you to Jefferson City, the long nights spent jigging off key to Flogging Molly, all the crazy shit we did in Columbia, and the late nights cramming in the study of the SAE house.
And of course, most of the above memories also included you, Theo. I remember distinctly how we met, and I remember that after losing that bet, you could have easily told me to go to hell when I threw my laundry at you, but you honored the bet, and I am damn grateful that you did. You were the first friend I made after leaving Overland Park, and you remain the best and most steadfast.
I remember how we used to hang out in my room, playing Devil May Cry; or in yours, driving your roommate insane. I remember mounting the side of Rosie as we drove down the street. I recall with vivid horror that one time you convinced me to try and drive that behemoth.
As wonderful as it was to get away from my old haunts, those first few weeks of college were terrifying, and you were the first sign I was given that things were going to be OK. You always had just a little more stones than I did when it came to our nightly jump challenges, but you still managed to push me to my limit, which always made those outings far more worthwhile.
My life has been a far greater adventure with you in it, and I fully expect that this will continue the case.
Also, at this moment, I'm listening to Dethklok, which is an entire genre of music that I never would have been able to enjoy had I not known you.
Finally, there's one more person who it would be utterly criminal not to place on this list. She's not exactly a member of the Holy Trinity described above, but I'm also not willing to divide this list up amongst different posts, lest one or the other feel somehow slighted. So I'll just break this one up.
_____________________________________________________________________
To get some extra spending money, I worked an on-campus job at Westminster. I ended up working in the Mac Lab, because it was literally a do-nothing job where I could laze around or get some homework done. Most days, I only saw a couple of people, if any.
On one of those days, fairly early on in the semester, a girl came in sat down in front of a computer, and began talking to it in a language I didn't recognize. She was apparently practicing for a foreign language class (a requirement for graduation at Westminster) but I didn't know this, so I just saw some crazy chick talking gobbledygook at a computer. She suddenly saw the strange look I was giving her, and quickly stood up and tried to explain herself. She neglected to remove her headphones, however, and ended up catching the right speaker in her eye. It was very funny.
I was quite shy in those days, but after seeing somebody embarrass themselves like that, I was able to summon up the courage to say hi (major accomplishment for me at the time) and actually start a conversation. Unfortunately, I had yet to come out of my shell and so my attempts at communication quickly drifted to a video game reference, (see, it was actually kind of funny if you understood the context, because the locks in the lab had this really weird and contrived way of... oh nevermind) but somehow this did not chase her off. We talked for a bit, exchanged contact information, and quickly became friends.
It was that magical time of life where everybody's still trying to figure out who or what they are, and so anything can be tried once and almost always is forgiven. During those years, she was at different times a mentor, a companion, and on occasion, a lover. Somewhere along the line, the line between those three things grew hazy, and our relationship evolved into something best described as a very dear friend. We have shared in victory and in defeat. At certain times we have been sources of strength and compassion for one another, and at others we have been the bane of each others' existence. Through it all, however, she has remained the dearest of friends. She calls me on my bullshit, she listens to my problems, and she sees me in ways that I often can't even see myself. Her council and companionship are dear to me, even when they lead me astray.
I don't think it's ever been a secret that I am very much in love with Andrea Wimberly. It's not about physical intimacy (frankly, we never did work as a couple) so much as the fact that she just gets me. She can call me on my bullshit, and I can call her on hers. We can't really lie to each other (although each of us lets the other think they can on occasion) even about matters on which we lie to ourselves. She has a perspective and insight that has been indispensable to me on many occasions. I can almost always trust her, and I know her well enough to know when and why I can't.
And what's more, this chick is a badass. A drunken frat boy once locked her in a room with him, and tried to have his way with her; she ripped his arm out of its socket. I am not making this up. Our old boss at Little Caesar's regularly shorted her on the gas money she was promised for her deliveries. That man lost his franchise. Again, not making this up. I won't even go into the shenanigans that her very psychotic roommate tried to pull, but it involved me both Andrea and myself being accused of some very ridiculous (and utterly false) things in a court of law. We only had to give up an afternoon explaining the situation, and she got stuck with the court costs. Since then we've both more or less forgotten she ever existed (I actually had to think for a minute to remember her name) but she is apparently still ranting and blogging about how much she hates us. Dre just has a way of dealing with things, and I mean that in a Godfather kind of way. It makes her very useful to have around, but don't ever, ever get on her bad side, or fuck with any of her friends. Seriously.
And most importantly, when the chips are down, I trust this broad. They say a good friend will kill for you, but- and I say this in all seriousness- I would call Andrea if by some inconceivable circumstance I had killed somebody, and needed to dispose of the body. She would not ask questions and she would not bat an eye, she would just help.
About a year ago, I was asked to be at her side during the wedding. A few months later, that crappy Made of Honor movie came out, and I'm still waiting for my royalty check. After the wedding, she would be off to Turkey with Carl, and I still remember her coworkers begging me to talk her out of it, because they weren't sure the office would be able to function without her. If any of them are (for some reason I can't fathom) reading this, please know that I tried my absolute best.
I still talk to her regularly, and we see each other from time to time, but we'll probably never live in the same city again, and more's the pity. But we had some real good times, and I'm sure that we've got an adventure or two left in us.
So this wraps up my three major credits. I think that Evan and Kurt and several others are still worthy of mention, but these three are my Musketeers. These are the friends for whom I would gladly take a bullet. I would give a kidney to any one of these three. Dre, Walt, Theo: I love you guys.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
I Want to Lock These Two in a Thunderdome
So I saw Michael Moore's last movie, Capitalism: A Love Story. The man is a very talented filmmaker, but the more of him I see, the more comparisons I tend to draw between him and Rush Limbaugh.
They're both gruff and overweight, and very talented entertainers, by all accounts, but obviously but there's more to it than that. They're both quite intelligent, in their own way, and they both have an uncanny knack for presenting just the right parts of a story to get their point across. They present this material, quite frequently, out of context, because they sound more right when they do. They are also both rabid, foaming-at-the-teeth supporters of far-wing agendas. Now, all things being equal, I may be more likely to agree with Moore than I am with Limbaugh, but that doesn't change the fact he's batshit crazy. In his latest movie, he spent several hours attempting to rope off the AIG building with crime scene tape, because they stole America's money. Now, that's funny in a way, but I think it would work better as a Family Guy bit than a documentary.
I don't think anybody who bothers to read my blog needs to be convinced that Limbaugh pulls this shit on a regular, but just in case a far-right conservative has wandered in, let me just make this disclaimer: I gave the man three chances. Three different times, I listened to his show, and on each occasion he either blatantly lied, or took some facts insanely out of context. Long before I felt that I had a political identity to speak of, I found him offensive not because of the points he tried to make, but because of the blatant falsehoods he was willing to put forth in order to make them. I took it as an insult to my intelligence, as if he was saying "I don't think you're smart enough to call me on my BS, so I'll just tell you whatever."
After seeing some Michael Moore films, however, I think I can understand why some people I consider to be quite intelligent might still listen to his show. If you already agree with the general position, you're a lot less likely to question the facts that support it. For example, I decided that I didn't care for the way Bush was running things towards the end of his first term, and I wanted him to lose the election. As a result, I didn't have many bad things to say about Farenheit 9/11. But even then, as I watched the movie, there were niggling doubts in the back of my head.
For example, Moore spends a good bit of time talking about how the Bin Ladens were flown out of America with the government's help just hours after the attack. He presents the information in a very thinly-veiled accusation that we knew Bin Laden was responsible, and we were still backing up his family because of some oil deals. Or something, I was never clear on the motive. I can forgive this kind of rabid blame-throwing to a very limited point, given the general hysteria that a lot of us went through in the aftermath of that event, but Moore's not stupid, and so I hold him to a higher standard than some guy screaming on a street corner. His movie did not mention that the Bin Laden family had effectively excommunicated their wayward son Osama long before this incident. He also doesn't pick that moment to point out the brief but very intense spike of violence against Arab Americans that occurred on that day. He's not dumb enough to have not considered it, he specifically didn't mention the information because it would have made his conclusion seem less plausible. And that's a very dishonest way to make a point. It relies on the audience being too dumb or too lazy to think outside the line of reasoning you're feeding them. I get that the plan is to gather to your side all those who are too dumb or lazy to do that, and then let some of the more moderate campaigners turn the intelligent people. And hey, it's awfully effective. The existence of Moore and NBC, just like the existence of FOX and Limbaugh, allow people who don't want their beliefs challenged to feel more confident in their beliefs without actually being exposed to any real information. This allows both parties to pick up the "zombie vote."
His latest movie, like Farenheit, hits on a few potentially valid points, but there were so many questions that he very conspicuously did not answer that I had a hard time buying anything he said. He would show some truly gut-wrenching scenes of a hard-working family being kicked out of the house they lived in for 40 years because they couldn't pay their mortgage. Presumably, this was due to predatory lending, and honestly, given the crap that got pulled in the banking industry, Moore wouldn't have had to look very hard to find a perfectly legitimate example of exactly that. But he almost completely avoids explaining why the bank is foreclosing on their home. I'm not trying to suggest that that family deserved it, but all the information he doesn't give his audience eventually became so present that, for me, it overshadowed most of his general thesis. Which is a shame, because I think his intentions really were pure. I believe that he genuinely feels for the plight of those chewed up and spit out by our economic system. And had two whole hours of my time to explain his viewpoint, but he wasted those hours largely on what boils down to propaganda. As far as I'm concerned, when somebody does that, they're wrong. Even if they're actually right.
Unfortunately, I've come to feel the same way about Bill Maher, who used to be one of my more favorite comedians. At first, it was just little "hey, I'm not sure that's fair" moments when I watched his show, but then those moments came more and more frequently, and then it culminated when I saw his movie, Religulous, and I found his logic wholly unsatisfying. He's still funny, but his humor is so heavily interspersed with poorly supported arguments that it takes most of the fun out of watching it.
My distaste for the crap spewed by people like Rush or the garbage that FOX likes to call "fair and balanced" has not lessened by any stretch of the imagination, but I feel I'm growing more centrist as I age, and that distaste is suddenly spreading to the left-wing psychos as well.
In other news, Brutal Legend comes out today. I specifically made sure that my latest game was returned earlier this week, and that it was the only available game in my queue, and wonder of wonders my plan seems to have worked. Gamefly mailed it to me this morning, and I should have it in my hands on the very day that I take my last midterm. I have the entire following day off, and the day after that is the final weekend of the Ren Fair. Enough people have found time to make the trip to KC that it will be a verifiable party.
Life is good.
-BS
They're both gruff and overweight, and very talented entertainers, by all accounts, but obviously but there's more to it than that. They're both quite intelligent, in their own way, and they both have an uncanny knack for presenting just the right parts of a story to get their point across. They present this material, quite frequently, out of context, because they sound more right when they do. They are also both rabid, foaming-at-the-teeth supporters of far-wing agendas. Now, all things being equal, I may be more likely to agree with Moore than I am with Limbaugh, but that doesn't change the fact he's batshit crazy. In his latest movie, he spent several hours attempting to rope off the AIG building with crime scene tape, because they stole America's money. Now, that's funny in a way, but I think it would work better as a Family Guy bit than a documentary.
I don't think anybody who bothers to read my blog needs to be convinced that Limbaugh pulls this shit on a regular, but just in case a far-right conservative has wandered in, let me just make this disclaimer: I gave the man three chances. Three different times, I listened to his show, and on each occasion he either blatantly lied, or took some facts insanely out of context. Long before I felt that I had a political identity to speak of, I found him offensive not because of the points he tried to make, but because of the blatant falsehoods he was willing to put forth in order to make them. I took it as an insult to my intelligence, as if he was saying "I don't think you're smart enough to call me on my BS, so I'll just tell you whatever."
After seeing some Michael Moore films, however, I think I can understand why some people I consider to be quite intelligent might still listen to his show. If you already agree with the general position, you're a lot less likely to question the facts that support it. For example, I decided that I didn't care for the way Bush was running things towards the end of his first term, and I wanted him to lose the election. As a result, I didn't have many bad things to say about Farenheit 9/11. But even then, as I watched the movie, there were niggling doubts in the back of my head.
For example, Moore spends a good bit of time talking about how the Bin Ladens were flown out of America with the government's help just hours after the attack. He presents the information in a very thinly-veiled accusation that we knew Bin Laden was responsible, and we were still backing up his family because of some oil deals. Or something, I was never clear on the motive. I can forgive this kind of rabid blame-throwing to a very limited point, given the general hysteria that a lot of us went through in the aftermath of that event, but Moore's not stupid, and so I hold him to a higher standard than some guy screaming on a street corner. His movie did not mention that the Bin Laden family had effectively excommunicated their wayward son Osama long before this incident. He also doesn't pick that moment to point out the brief but very intense spike of violence against Arab Americans that occurred on that day. He's not dumb enough to have not considered it, he specifically didn't mention the information because it would have made his conclusion seem less plausible. And that's a very dishonest way to make a point. It relies on the audience being too dumb or too lazy to think outside the line of reasoning you're feeding them. I get that the plan is to gather to your side all those who are too dumb or lazy to do that, and then let some of the more moderate campaigners turn the intelligent people. And hey, it's awfully effective. The existence of Moore and NBC, just like the existence of FOX and Limbaugh, allow people who don't want their beliefs challenged to feel more confident in their beliefs without actually being exposed to any real information. This allows both parties to pick up the "zombie vote."
His latest movie, like Farenheit, hits on a few potentially valid points, but there were so many questions that he very conspicuously did not answer that I had a hard time buying anything he said. He would show some truly gut-wrenching scenes of a hard-working family being kicked out of the house they lived in for 40 years because they couldn't pay their mortgage. Presumably, this was due to predatory lending, and honestly, given the crap that got pulled in the banking industry, Moore wouldn't have had to look very hard to find a perfectly legitimate example of exactly that. But he almost completely avoids explaining why the bank is foreclosing on their home. I'm not trying to suggest that that family deserved it, but all the information he doesn't give his audience eventually became so present that, for me, it overshadowed most of his general thesis. Which is a shame, because I think his intentions really were pure. I believe that he genuinely feels for the plight of those chewed up and spit out by our economic system. And had two whole hours of my time to explain his viewpoint, but he wasted those hours largely on what boils down to propaganda. As far as I'm concerned, when somebody does that, they're wrong. Even if they're actually right.
Unfortunately, I've come to feel the same way about Bill Maher, who used to be one of my more favorite comedians. At first, it was just little "hey, I'm not sure that's fair" moments when I watched his show, but then those moments came more and more frequently, and then it culminated when I saw his movie, Religulous, and I found his logic wholly unsatisfying. He's still funny, but his humor is so heavily interspersed with poorly supported arguments that it takes most of the fun out of watching it.
My distaste for the crap spewed by people like Rush or the garbage that FOX likes to call "fair and balanced" has not lessened by any stretch of the imagination, but I feel I'm growing more centrist as I age, and that distaste is suddenly spreading to the left-wing psychos as well.
In other news, Brutal Legend comes out today. I specifically made sure that my latest game was returned earlier this week, and that it was the only available game in my queue, and wonder of wonders my plan seems to have worked. Gamefly mailed it to me this morning, and I should have it in my hands on the very day that I take my last midterm. I have the entire following day off, and the day after that is the final weekend of the Ren Fair. Enough people have found time to make the trip to KC that it will be a verifiable party.
Life is good.
-BS
Friday, October 9, 2009
Dracula Vs. Macguyver
Lately, it seems, I've been undergoing a vampire renaissance of sorts. It started one particularly boring Spring afternoon, when I decided to pull Buffy the Vampire Slayer up on Hulu.
It actually took me a little while to warm up to Buffy- most of the dialogue, especially in the first episode, was too corny even for me. However, Allyson Hannigan has a cute smile, the fight scenes were pretty entertaining for network television, and Anthony Stewart Head's voice is downright sexy. In, y'know, that not-gay kinda way. Don't judge me.
So after season 1, Buffy picked up, and I moved much more Season 2. Half of Season 3 had shown up on Netflix when Hulu uploaded it, and after that I was watching them about as fast as Netflix could send them to me. Once Buffy was done, it was on to Angel. Again, the first season was a little awkward, but once Charisma Carpenter learned how to act and the writers got more comfortable with what they were doing, it was pretty good.
Somewhere in the midst of that, I picked up a game called Vampire: The Masquerade. I did a whole blog post a while back about how much fun I had with that, but the short version is that I played the hell out of that game.
Last week, I started watching the second season of True Blood. Last week, I also finished the second season of True Blood. Even though the writers couldn't resist the temptation to reduce most of the storyline to a live-action Anne Rice novel, and despite the fact that I will never be able to stop staring at the gap in Anna Paquin's teeth, I find myself looking forward to the third season.
And this week, I played through Dracula Origin, which Liz bought me a couple months back. Next weekend, I'm going to the final week of the Ren Fair, during which all the Canterbury characters will be vampires (in addition to being knights, squires, etc) in honor of the coming Halloween. I've also still got to start the final season of Angel.
I didn't really stop to take stock of it until recently, but I've been on a serious vampire kick since, like, June. Fittingly, I predict that this shall peak during October, as I am quite frankly out of vampire-ish things to do, watch, read or play, and I absolutely refuse to stick my nose into Twilight. I also don't know how I'm ever going to do better than a vampire Ren Fair.
And now, because for some reason I like writing about video games, a few short words about Dracula Origin.
I've spoken before about how I often find myself enjoying B movies, simply because the laughably low production quality entertains me. Well, for the first time, I've seen that same effect in a video game. Dracula Origin is so bad it's funny.
For starters, there are no fights or action sequences in this game. It's all puzzles and logic problems, like an old school DOS adventure game. It basically boils down to "Dracula Vs. MacGuyver". At one point in the game, I was required to gather some holy water, but a local priest could not bless water that had touched the polluted earth around us. So I had to use a barbecue, a camel trough, a broken mirror, and a casserole dish to produce some condensation to pour into a whisky flask. Another time I used a funnel, a drainage pipe, and a dead beaver and a conveniently placed hole in the ground to quickly empty and hide the contents of a wine cask so I could hide myself inside a cask before the carriage driver got back. This was right after I fooled an innkeeper with a fake key I put together with some silver wrapping paper, a wad of gum, a boar's tooth, and a couple of pretzels. The game climxes when I use a chain mail shirt, a curtain cord, and a vat of grease to strike at Dracula's undead army with a bolt of lightning. I can't make this up.
The writers and voice actors worked very, very hard to make the game dark and moody and intense, which serves to make it all the more hilarious that it all comes off as pure camp; the only thing missing is Bruce Campbell to play the role of Van Helsing.
The game has, however, made me somewhat curious as to the original story, as told by Bram Stoker. What little experience I've had with ancient fiction (The Pearl and Frankenstein) have struck me as overly verbose and poorly paced, so I'm not setting my hopes very high. Here's hoping I'll be surprised.
[EDIT] And if it is awful, I only spent 99 cents on it. So no major loss there.
It actually took me a little while to warm up to Buffy- most of the dialogue, especially in the first episode, was too corny even for me. However, Allyson Hannigan has a cute smile, the fight scenes were pretty entertaining for network television, and Anthony Stewart Head's voice is downright sexy. In, y'know, that not-gay kinda way. Don't judge me.
So after season 1, Buffy picked up, and I moved much more Season 2. Half of Season 3 had shown up on Netflix when Hulu uploaded it, and after that I was watching them about as fast as Netflix could send them to me. Once Buffy was done, it was on to Angel. Again, the first season was a little awkward, but once Charisma Carpenter learned how to act and the writers got more comfortable with what they were doing, it was pretty good.
Somewhere in the midst of that, I picked up a game called Vampire: The Masquerade. I did a whole blog post a while back about how much fun I had with that, but the short version is that I played the hell out of that game.
Last week, I started watching the second season of True Blood. Last week, I also finished the second season of True Blood. Even though the writers couldn't resist the temptation to reduce most of the storyline to a live-action Anne Rice novel, and despite the fact that I will never be able to stop staring at the gap in Anna Paquin's teeth, I find myself looking forward to the third season.
And this week, I played through Dracula Origin, which Liz bought me a couple months back. Next weekend, I'm going to the final week of the Ren Fair, during which all the Canterbury characters will be vampires (in addition to being knights, squires, etc) in honor of the coming Halloween. I've also still got to start the final season of Angel.
I didn't really stop to take stock of it until recently, but I've been on a serious vampire kick since, like, June. Fittingly, I predict that this shall peak during October, as I am quite frankly out of vampire-ish things to do, watch, read or play, and I absolutely refuse to stick my nose into Twilight. I also don't know how I'm ever going to do better than a vampire Ren Fair.
And now, because for some reason I like writing about video games, a few short words about Dracula Origin.
I've spoken before about how I often find myself enjoying B movies, simply because the laughably low production quality entertains me. Well, for the first time, I've seen that same effect in a video game. Dracula Origin is so bad it's funny.
For starters, there are no fights or action sequences in this game. It's all puzzles and logic problems, like an old school DOS adventure game. It basically boils down to "Dracula Vs. MacGuyver". At one point in the game, I was required to gather some holy water, but a local priest could not bless water that had touched the polluted earth around us. So I had to use a barbecue, a camel trough, a broken mirror, and a casserole dish to produce some condensation to pour into a whisky flask. Another time I used a funnel, a drainage pipe, and a dead beaver and a conveniently placed hole in the ground to quickly empty and hide the contents of a wine cask so I could hide myself inside a cask before the carriage driver got back. This was right after I fooled an innkeeper with a fake key I put together with some silver wrapping paper, a wad of gum, a boar's tooth, and a couple of pretzels. The game climxes when I use a chain mail shirt, a curtain cord, and a vat of grease to strike at Dracula's undead army with a bolt of lightning. I can't make this up.
The writers and voice actors worked very, very hard to make the game dark and moody and intense, which serves to make it all the more hilarious that it all comes off as pure camp; the only thing missing is Bruce Campbell to play the role of Van Helsing.
The game has, however, made me somewhat curious as to the original story, as told by Bram Stoker. What little experience I've had with ancient fiction (The Pearl and Frankenstein) have struck me as overly verbose and poorly paced, so I'm not setting my hopes very high. Here's hoping I'll be surprised.
[EDIT] And if it is awful, I only spent 99 cents on it. So no major loss there.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Urban Center of Nocturnal Avians
So there was a "free" Owl City concert on Thursday night. I use quotation marks because I still ended up spending 32 bucks on booze and CDs. The first opener, Audiovox, was not even the tiniest bit impressive to me, but the second, Roman Numerals, were just interesting enough for me to drop five dollars on their CD. I haven't listened to it yet, but if it turns out to be noteworthy I'll mention it in a later post.
For those unfamiliar with the group, some basic background. Owl city is not what you would call "high art." They don't deal with serious subject matter, their lyrics are not deep or insightful, and they aren't trying to change the world. For example, I'm currently listening to a song called Dental Care. It's not a commentary on health care, it's just a song about a guy who's afraid to go to the dentist. They're whimsical and fun to listen to, and that's all I'm usually looking for in my music. But I digress...
When I arrived at the show, I saw an enormous line wrapping all around the block. It was an outdoor show with a lot of space, but not everybody got in. A lot of folk were gathered in a nearby parking garage, watching from their apartments, or just hopping over the fence every few seconds to get a glimpse of all the fun they weren't having. However, when I asked if this was the line for Owl City, I was told that if I was 21 or older, I could skip to the front of the line. The good news was that I was definitely getting in and I didn't have to wait. The bad news is that the place was apparently going to be packed with minors. I had no idea Owl City was so popular with the high school crowd. Good thing I'm not one to be held accountable for my tastes.
I smugly sauntered to the front of the line, loudly asked the man at the door if it was alright for me to not wait in line, and walked past all the people who had probably been waiting there for an hour or so. Because seriously, how many times in my life am I going to get to do that?
One look around confirmed my suspicions. The very thick scent of weed being smoked in public. Girls who wore miniskirts to an outdoor show in October bitching about how their legs were cold, more than one kid dressed like a Matrix extra (this one girl did not take her sunglasses off all night) and several parents standing at the outside of the crowd, waiting for the show to end so they could drive their kids home. Yep, I was at a high school party.
I've never actually gone to a concert without bringing a friend along, and that night I learned why. So many times I had something I wanted to say, some comment I wanted to make (see Matrix girl, above) or just somebody to listen to me bitch about the crappy warmup band (see Audiovox, below) but there was nobody around to say it to; being all alone in a room full of people sucks. But hey, at least there's going to be some music to distract me from that, right?
In theory, once the warmup bands get done with there thing, it's about time for us all to hear the band that we all actually came for, but for some reason there was a forty-five minute intermission. After a sound technician came on stage and repeated "check 2" for five minutes without any noticeable change in her mic (If somebody had been with me we would have been making jokes about Waynestock) I began to suspect that they weren't even going to show. I strongly considered leaving, but I ended up hanging around for another ten or fifteen minutes, and when Owl City finally did get on the stage, they made everything better.
Adam Young's on-stage performance looks like something between an orgasm and a seizure. He pretty much randomly flails around, but damnit if he doesn't seem to be having the time of his life doing it; that energy caught on with the crowd, and everybody got into the show. And after all that wait, I was impressed that the group had the decency to play a very large setlist. Usually, when I go to a free show, I expect the headliners to phone it in a little (like Ludo at Rock the Vote last year) because they're not getting paid. they played a lot of stuff new and old, and they saved Fireflies for last. They got the crowd to sing the chorus, and we displayed a remarkable harmony for a quarter past midnight.
Overall, I call it a good night.
For those unfamiliar with the group, some basic background. Owl city is not what you would call "high art." They don't deal with serious subject matter, their lyrics are not deep or insightful, and they aren't trying to change the world. For example, I'm currently listening to a song called Dental Care. It's not a commentary on health care, it's just a song about a guy who's afraid to go to the dentist. They're whimsical and fun to listen to, and that's all I'm usually looking for in my music. But I digress...
When I arrived at the show, I saw an enormous line wrapping all around the block. It was an outdoor show with a lot of space, but not everybody got in. A lot of folk were gathered in a nearby parking garage, watching from their apartments, or just hopping over the fence every few seconds to get a glimpse of all the fun they weren't having. However, when I asked if this was the line for Owl City, I was told that if I was 21 or older, I could skip to the front of the line. The good news was that I was definitely getting in and I didn't have to wait. The bad news is that the place was apparently going to be packed with minors. I had no idea Owl City was so popular with the high school crowd. Good thing I'm not one to be held accountable for my tastes.
I smugly sauntered to the front of the line, loudly asked the man at the door if it was alright for me to not wait in line, and walked past all the people who had probably been waiting there for an hour or so. Because seriously, how many times in my life am I going to get to do that?
One look around confirmed my suspicions. The very thick scent of weed being smoked in public. Girls who wore miniskirts to an outdoor show in October bitching about how their legs were cold, more than one kid dressed like a Matrix extra (this one girl did not take her sunglasses off all night) and several parents standing at the outside of the crowd, waiting for the show to end so they could drive their kids home. Yep, I was at a high school party.
I've never actually gone to a concert without bringing a friend along, and that night I learned why. So many times I had something I wanted to say, some comment I wanted to make (see Matrix girl, above) or just somebody to listen to me bitch about the crappy warmup band (see Audiovox, below) but there was nobody around to say it to; being all alone in a room full of people sucks. But hey, at least there's going to be some music to distract me from that, right?
In theory, once the warmup bands get done with there thing, it's about time for us all to hear the band that we all actually came for, but for some reason there was a forty-five minute intermission. After a sound technician came on stage and repeated "check 2" for five minutes without any noticeable change in her mic (If somebody had been with me we would have been making jokes about Waynestock) I began to suspect that they weren't even going to show. I strongly considered leaving, but I ended up hanging around for another ten or fifteen minutes, and when Owl City finally did get on the stage, they made everything better.
Adam Young's on-stage performance looks like something between an orgasm and a seizure. He pretty much randomly flails around, but damnit if he doesn't seem to be having the time of his life doing it; that energy caught on with the crowd, and everybody got into the show. And after all that wait, I was impressed that the group had the decency to play a very large setlist. Usually, when I go to a free show, I expect the headliners to phone it in a little (like Ludo at Rock the Vote last year) because they're not getting paid. they played a lot of stuff new and old, and they saved Fireflies for last. They got the crowd to sing the chorus, and we displayed a remarkable harmony for a quarter past midnight.
Overall, I call it a good night.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Midgets, Jobs, Ninja Cheerleaders and Fireflies
Some inane musings:
A group of midgets have founded their own midget village, in which it is unlawful to reside unless you are under 4'3". Theo, you and I need to dress like Godzilla and King Kong, and wage a battle in this city.
Last night, I was flipping through channels and there was a movie on called Ninja Cheerleaders. The plot seemed to be about a group of ninja cheerleaders banding together to rescue their master from a crime lord, who is holding him hostage until they steal the deed to a strip club that the IRS took away from him. Going from this, I'm fairly sure that this was a porn, but I was flipping between it and Scarface and I either missed all the sex scenes or this was an ultra-low budget version of DEBS. In any event, the bits I did catch were quite entertaining, in a tongue-in-cheek kind of way.
I had an interview this morning, and I think it went well. I also got a response from somebody at Rubin Brown, who I met at an MSCPA function last month. This is relevant because Rubin Brown is hiring for auditors in St Louis next summer, and the firm I interviewed is hiring for a Spring internship. If I get the internship, then get an interview with Rubin Brown, in which I can mention that somebody is already going to give me some basic training for 4 months prior to the summer, and a million other things land juuuust right, I might actually make it back to STL before 2010 is out. My fingers are crossed to a most painful degree.
I've just learned that Owl City is doing a free show about 2 miles from where I'm sitting. Totally going to that tonight.
A group of midgets have founded their own midget village, in which it is unlawful to reside unless you are under 4'3". Theo, you and I need to dress like Godzilla and King Kong, and wage a battle in this city.
Last night, I was flipping through channels and there was a movie on called Ninja Cheerleaders. The plot seemed to be about a group of ninja cheerleaders banding together to rescue their master from a crime lord, who is holding him hostage until they steal the deed to a strip club that the IRS took away from him. Going from this, I'm fairly sure that this was a porn, but I was flipping between it and Scarface and I either missed all the sex scenes or this was an ultra-low budget version of DEBS. In any event, the bits I did catch were quite entertaining, in a tongue-in-cheek kind of way.
I had an interview this morning, and I think it went well. I also got a response from somebody at Rubin Brown, who I met at an MSCPA function last month. This is relevant because Rubin Brown is hiring for auditors in St Louis next summer, and the firm I interviewed is hiring for a Spring internship. If I get the internship, then get an interview with Rubin Brown, in which I can mention that somebody is already going to give me some basic training for 4 months prior to the summer, and a million other things land juuuust right, I might actually make it back to STL before 2010 is out. My fingers are crossed to a most painful degree.
I've just learned that Owl City is doing a free show about 2 miles from where I'm sitting. Totally going to that tonight.
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