The Way I See It

Ten Things I Hate About You

2009-04-06T05:13:00.000-07:00

We're coming up on the 30-day mark to the release of Star Trek. And things are looking good. A friend of mine - basically hates the franchise. She thinks the whole damn thing is too goofy. I don't blame her; each new incarnation of the Star Trek universe appealed less and less to the general public and more to the ravenous, froth-faced fanboys who need to scale back their geektardedness and set their phasers to "Social Life".
But there is hope. For this person in question, my friend, saw a TV commercial for the film, not realising it was a Star Trek movie, and commented that she wanted to see it. Then she ate humble pie when the title card appeared. So I think Paramount might be smarter than they banked on.

But, there are things about the franchise that need to die. Things which were added to Star Trek after the original series went off the air.

10: Long, drawn out special effects shots.
This is basically true of all movies. Special effects are supposed to enhance what is already pretty good. The moment the magic takes over the material, the interest, especially in the moviegoers of the twenty-first century, dwindles. Space battles and transporters and wide shots of alien planets; okay. Gear up, and let's CGI that shit. But dousing a film in FX, like Star Trek: The Motion Picture, plods and drags the story behind it like a dying horse.

9: Opening credits that waste my time.
Overlay the credits with the beginning of the movie. Something other than a starfield or a swirly thing. Like, oh, I don't know, a sequence of the elder Spock gearing up his magical time machine. ANYTHING.

8: Treknobabble.
Fans eat this stuff for breakfast, but it's time that ODN relays and Pattern buffers be ignored. Wrapping up a plotline by clicking a laser light built into a superfuturistic doodad onto a sheet of plexiglass with a pattern printed on it is shameful at best. Closing anomalies and defeating ominous clouds don't count as quality storytelling either.

7: The fans.
This film should be wired directly to the non-Star Trek audience. I hope to GOD this picture is geared specifically toward normal people. It would be nice to see a normal people Star Trek again. Like the Original Series. It wasn't a fan-based show, since there were no fans yet.

6: Less space, more drama.
The TV show was a drama series set in space. The new shows were space shows with some drama in them. Know the difference.

5: Spock's scanner.
I hope he doesn't look into that awkward glowing bar. Whatever happened to having screens? There are screens all over the set!

4: Need for canon.
Canon is a term created by fanatics and obsessive-compulsives. If the sequel contains a contradictng fact, or if something about this Enterprise or this movie in general doesn't obey the established Star Trek canon, BOO FUCKING HOO. Let's loosen up a little. For Christ's sake, it's a TV show, not the Bible.

3: 47.
This was a running gag on the TV shows since the early 90s. The writers would throw in 47s wherever they could feasibly chuck them. Let's just put that to rest now. It wasn't funny, so it's not a gag.

2: Warp 10.
I don't know why, but I just hate that The Next Generation established that Warp 10 was "Infinite Velocity". Seems like a retarded concept, and it leaves a lot of people tossing untold number of 9s into the Warp 9 factor to make their stories ships go faster.

1: Fanfictions.
Delete them all. Burn them. Poo on them. It was probably well written with a strong arc and convincing dialogue. But it just proves how little you respect the concept of going outside and remembering what natural sunlight is all about.

This message is endorsed by Starfleet, and your mom, who wants you out of her basement now.

A Face For the Ages

2009-02-25T01:23:00.000-08:00

Mascots. Baseball teams have them. Most advertising has some form of mascot hocking products, like Tony the Tiger and the Geico Gecko. But the mascots I'm thinking of came and went as a passing fad. Or so you think.

Mascots are generally a deliberate effort on behalf of companies to create an appealing image for their target demographic. Something their customers can connect to and enjoy, and something that will attract new customers of a similar circle of people. Most mascots are animals - people have a fondness of the cute and cuddly, like the Snuggle detergent teddy bear.

No, these mascots are of a new breed. An avatar that the consumer can more than just watch and enjoy, but interact with and see become heroes. Video game mascots.
Now, the first mascot was created, not by careful demographical research and development, but purely by chance. In 1980, Namco created an arcade game in Japan called Puck Man. Namco licensed out Puck Man for American distribution to Midway. Midway renamed it Pac Man, so vandals couldn't turn "Puck Man" into "Fuck Man".
The game was a hit in America, and catapulted Pac Man's image into the public eye. He became the first mascot completely by accident. Of course, he wasn't considered a mascot of any particular company because it was licensed by Namco to Midway and basically represented the entire video game industry.

Then Nintendo entered the scene with the coin-op Donkey Kong, creating two new mascots, again by accident; Donkey Kong and the game's protagonist, Jumpman. We now know Jumpman as Mario. These two characters were known for their distinctive images, though Donkey Kong's iconic DK tie didn't appear until years later. Mario, on the other hand, hasn't changed much. His plumber's hat (designed because it was too hard to do hair on early arcade machines), moustache (because it was too hard to animate a mouth), and overalls (because the arms could be a different colour than the torso to allow the showing of movement when Mario ran) made him one of the quirkiest video game characters ever developed - even considering what has come since. Time travelling cats, squirrels who could attack foes with their hair, and a bobcat with a ridiculous white turtleneck. An Italian plumber who crossed dimensions into a Mushroom-populated universe where the Lizard King reigned supreme. And he ate mushrooms to grow big, eat "fire flowers" so spit fire, and got a hold of some pixie dust-covered star to feel like he was invicible. So basically the crackhead plumber from Brooklyn won the people's hearts. And I don't see anything wrong with that; Mario has always kept his habits in check.

Sega, struggling with their Master System and its so-called flagship title, Alex Kid, was in need of a mascot that could reach the kids and convince them to choose Sega over Nintendo. Thus was born, Sonic the Hedgehog. Packed full of all the carefully researched attitude and all the chemically formulated kid-friendly anti-establishmentism they could cram him full of, Sonic was a hit. That being, the game was fun to play. If Sonic hadn't been as good as it was, Sega wouldn't have lasted the 16-bit era.

Suddenly, boom. Every game developer and their grandmother had to have a mascot. Something with attitude and pizzazz that could bring their business to the forefront. Unfortunately, some companies didn't have the part down about needing their mascot to have a good game. Bubsy the Bobcat learned that the hard way. Most of the 90s mascots sank like a rock to the bottom of the Whogivesashit Ocean, like Zero the Kamikaze Squirrel and Rocky Rodent. Others had more success like Rayman.

After the Playstation was supplanted by the PS2 and its compatriots, the need for cartoon mascots fell away. Hardware became more powerful, able to render more realistic characters. It's at this point that people began to see mascots as a fad that's come to an end.

This ain't true. Companies still create characters that appeal to audiences and players with enough power to launch them into mascot status. Mario and Sonic are still around, Rayman and Bomberman still have games on the market and new arrivals to the mascot world include Halo's Master Chief, Metal Gear Solid's Solid Snake, and Tomb Raider's Lara Croft. So mascots aren't gone. They've just changed with the times. Long live the mascot!

Time to Go

2009-02-05T04:08:00.000-08:00

Population aging is a serious problem in the making all across the world. And guess what! A lot of them are old enough to retire. It's going to happen. Give it a few years. So we ought to have some new jobs.
My problem is this; where the hell are we going to put all these old people? I mean, sure; they won a couple of wars and kept Communism off our doorstep. And they invented thousands of things we take for granted like microwave ovens, TV sets and peeing off the balcony. They also invented the atom bomb and Sonny & Cher, so that makes us even.
Oh yeah, and they stuck us with a multi-billion dollar government deficit that we'll be paying for until we retire. They pumped our parents' heads full of so much religious, traditionalist bullshit that our generation were mostly, miraculously immune to. They gave our folks names like Gary and Leonard. Any first name with an O in it has roots in pure Nazi evil.
And when's the last time you were listening to an old fud talking? Do you even remember the middle of the conversation? The beginning is, "Back in *my* day, we didn't have..." and ends with, "...and that's how we won the war with eight toothpicks and a dead Kraut."
And am I the only one convinced that the old people are just too far behind the cultural curb to be useful? I was asked by a 60+ at the library how the computer mouse worked, and whether or not it would get him on the Internet. I was polite and everything. My laughing at him was very cordial. And I meant "moron" in the nicest sense.
Old people are just a drain on resources, like the ever-valuable recliner and television. Yes, I have heard of PBS. And no, the life cycle of the butterfly is not on the top of my viewing list. Do the monarchs explode? Do the pupae pack Uzis and do drive-bys on some unsuspecting gang of Crips? Fuck no. BORING.
I think we need to put Hollywood to use and take a hint from the movies. Kill the oldies off at 60 and be done with it. We're going to be paying for them until they decide it's time and hide in the closet until they starve. A lot of people confuse that behaviour with cats. Trust me. All cats do is throw their canes at the TV set and swing brooms at the neighbours' kids, then die of liver failure from their decades of unwitting abuse of red meat and single malt whiskey.
Unfortunately, we are going to have a hell of a time weeding these passé persons out of our progressive society. Our politicians are all older than the buildings they mumble at each other. Most of them are clinically dead, anyway. I say we knock those buildings down with them still inside and erect a memorial theme park.
There are a few people who must be spared. Jews should live as long as possible. Once they aren't understandable anymore - okay, pack your spiritual bags and get ready for the car trip that's too hot with the windows up to the sky. Until then, free run of the old people business. Then again, I'm a big fan of cigars, small hats, and complaining. So maybe I'm biased.
The ones that need to go are the ones that can't tell that the Control key is labelled in shorthand on the keyboard. Or the ones that have to turn the volume on ANYWAY up to a million at 4 in the afternoon, but pound on the wall because they can hear you taking your socks off. Or the ones that take two hundred dollars in medication just to stave off death for another four hours. Any of them that have had a failed organ replaced. And any ones that spend more than an hour sitting on a bench (again, Jews excepted).
Now, I have a lot of work to do. I'm 23, and I intend to make my next 37 years worth my effort. I don't want to be one of the ones being dragged off kicking and screaming to the neutralization chamber, crying to God, "I never got to pet the toes of a Swedish hooker! If I only had one more day!!!"

The Uwe Hustle

2009-01-30T00:37:00.000-08:00

I'm starting to think I should just change the name of this blog to "The Underscore's Uwe Boll Rant Corner", because I do spend a lot of time ragging on him. And to be honest, he does make it easy. But this time, I think I have found a comfortable middle.
Really, I still think his movies are giant steaming piles of shit. But as far as people calling him the Anti-Christ... that might be pushing it. A little.
He started with House of the Dead, which suffered from poor camerawork and video quality, sound, acting and special effects. Oh, and the story was abysmal. The game focused on shooting zombies and panic and some small cobblestone-paved town. The movie was such a radical departure, including a rave and a bunch of scantily-clad teens using automatic weapons on a horde of the poorly dressed dead. The departure was so extreme, the only way to tell it was based on the game was by the in-game footage jammed in a regular intervals. Let me add: House of the Dead was not a very realistic looking game.
Until Alone in the Dark, Uwe Boll was just a director who made a bad video game movie. He was nothing special. Most video game films at that point were watchable at best. (I loved Super Mario Bros. The Movie - I'm weird like that.) The 20 million-dollar movie earned him a spot on the bad director list shared by William Shatner and the Wachowski Brothers. Most of the money went to the main stars, the aging Christian Slater, and the criminally useless Tara Reid. Little would have been left for CGI. And that really shows. The film is unbearable.
BloodyRayne continued this trend. Not much I need to say about this; it's the same old story. Everything that could have been wrong with it, was.
And all through the matter, he was a confident son of a bitch. To the point of being an asshole, he believed in the wonder that was himself. The best way to describing him is egotistical to a fault. And if his movies were even just barely decent, he'd have a better sell to his audience. Think of it. Arnold Schwarzennegger was a terrible actor! But his presence was so strong, and his movies were better than decent - directors just kept snapping him up for the next big action film. Unfortunately, Uwe Boll follows his directorial brethren, Edward D Wood Jr. Ed Wood loved filmmaking, promoted himself as the next big thing, but was sadly not very good at actually doing films. And had a rough time finding financing for his pictures.
Ed Wood was the worst director of the Golden Age not because he was an optimistic moron or a fuckup. Uwe Boll is not the worst director of the Internet Generation because he is an egotistical asshole or a shameless self-promoter. These qualities just make their failed work more obvious.

Colmes-Free Since 2009

2009-01-29T03:16:00.000-08:00

So, I watched the Colbert Report on the Comedy Network at like, 2 o'clock this morning. He did this awesome interview with Paul McCartney. Called him out when McCartney said the Dalai Lama would eat human flesh if he had to survive. Maybe it was beef. But it sounded like he accused the leader of Tibet and its spiritual values of potential cannibalism. And that was funny shit.
But it got better, because at the end of the show, Colbert called to his viewers to phone in comments about these "deniers of the Holocaust" and tell their feelings. He posted a phone number, 1 877 SEAN 930.
Naturally, my friend and I were intrigued. We snapped up my cell phone and dialed. I thought it was 1 800, but I was reminded otherwise, so we dialed the number and couldn't get through. We couldn't place the call from Canada. So it was an American number. And I thought, "Could the 1 800 get us through? Hell, can't hurt to try."
The number connected to some weird manufacturing business with an answering machine that included this in their message.
"If you are trying to reach the Sean Hannity Radio Show, hang up and redial the number with the 1 877 prefix."
HOLEE SHIT.
We were laughing for a while. I did some research. And I'm glad Alan Colmes left that show. Hannity is such a cocksucker. At least Colmes had enough of a sense of humour about himself to do Steven Colbert's first episode of '09.

My Life as a Gamer

2009-01-28T00:13:00.000-08:00

Video games and I share a bit of history. I have sampled every system active in my lifetime. I've witnessed five console generations, owned fifteen systems (not counting the PC and Mac platforms). I've played hundred of games in my lifetime, and put tens of thousands of hours into playing (2000 into World of Warcraft for the PC alone). My first system was the Nintendo.

It belonged to the whole family, but after collecting dust under the basement stairs, I basically just assumed control of the system and hogged it. I started off with just Super Mario Bros. and Super Mario Bros. 2. Eventually I got Tetris, Tengen's RBI Baseball, Vindicator and Gauntlet (you know, the ones that came in the black casings because they weren't authentic Nintendo games and lacked the "Seal of Quality", since Atari stole Nintendo's 10NES piracy lockout code from the Copyright Office at the end of the 80s), Mega Man IV (my second favourite title I owned for the system), Total Recall (what a drag), and my story-to-tell game, Chrysalis.

I did not see this game coming at all. Never heard of it, never seen it before. But I read about it in a magazine on day about retro games that deserved way more praise than they actually got. And not a week later, after being diagnosed with a genetic disorder, did I *find* a copy in a used electronics shop! I scooped this bad boy up for fifteen bucks and spent the summer of my sixteenth birthday playing Chrysalis. I had it beaten in less than a week of playing. (I spent some time on Mega Man IV and composing short stories. Yeah, I played some Total Recall, just to see if it improved on the later levels. I'll be honest; it got worse.) Basically, Chrysalis has you playing a guy who stumbles out of a chamber in a cave, where you'd been in stasis for a really long time and you're destined to be a great hero and you have to defeat the Draygonian Empire to save humanity from extinction. It was a fairly mature storyline, even though it was the same sword and sorcery game, same for a few marked differences. It meshed Final Fantasy and The Legend of Zelda, even though the two should probably never meet in a bar. Honestly, it was pretty fucking sweet. I spent most of my time in the field levelling, only to find that the level cap was 16 - so that was a tad disappointing. But what the fuck, right? By now I have two of the swords and I go to find the other two to combine and form the titular weapon, "Crystalis". I don't recalling having that much fun with a Nintendo NES title before or since.

My second system was a Game Boy - which became over time a Game Boy Pocket, a Virtual Boy, Game Boy Color, Game Boy Advance, and a DS for a few months. I've owned them all. I have the spots in my eyes to prove I was a V-Boy player. I played Tetris on the old hulking Boy, Pokemon on the Pocket, Mario Deluxe on the Color, and Advance Wars on the GBA. It was the New Super Mario Bros. for the DS, but I honestly can't give an opinion of the game. I played it through. I beat it. But I really don't know if I like it or not. It's one of those entries in the Mario series where, you just think they tried to make it a flagship title on purpose. Super Mario Bros. was a fluke. Not intended to lead Nintendo. It did anyway and when the SNES launched, they ended up making Mario World on purpose to be the biggest game they could make in a reasonable amount of time. From there, Mario 64 wound up commanding the charge with the 64 in battle against the PlayStation, but then when Maro debuted on the Cube, it was kind of a letdown. Like someone at Nintendo thought that Mario had to be new and shiny and different for his showing. And it didn't really work. Kinda like on the DS. It sorta goes back to the roots of the classic sidescrollers, but the level design just doesn't have that classic mentality.

Anyway, I played Tetris for about three hours a day and by the time the Tetris cart vanished for some ungodly reason, I was able to get as far as Level 24, with a score off the charts (I cannot remember if the score meter crapped out at 100 000 or a million, but I did crap it out).
After that, I had a Super Nintendo. I played Chrono Trigger, Super Metroid, Mario World, and UN Squadron. That was some fun times. Except UN Squadron. As awesome as it was, it instilled copious amounts of rage on part of it being the HARDEST GAME I HAVE EVER PLAYED. I've seen axe-wielding maniacs give more quarter than this game. It's so hard! I never got off the first map! Is there even a second map?!

Anyway. The N64 didn't arrive at my house until much later. In the meantime, I got a PlayStation for my 18th birthday. The new one too. PSOne, with the tiny profile and kitchen appliance-white colour. It was pretty damned cool. I got to play all the PS titles I missed. I got to finish Resident Evil and Final Fantasy VII, which until that point I was just tinkering with at my buddy's house in between sessions of GoldenEye or Perfect Dark (oh, Perfect Dark. So much cake that first night. So much multiplayer. I was sick from a sugar high and an all-nighter.) I got to work on Chrono Cross, an excellent entry, highly worthy of its Trigger-happy progenitor, and a lot of... other titles. Legend of Dragoon. Too little, too late, SCEA. Really. Three and a half years after FFVII and your character models still look like they were made with fifty polygons? Why could I see the seams on that one dude's cape? They weren't even seams, it was like his cape was literally, three squares loosely tied together with fishing line. Chibi in-game characters and technical FMV sequences don't mesh! That's the part I *didn't* like about FFVII! So yeah, between the bad graphics, the lousy battle system... I really didn't pay much attention to the story line. I don't even know what happened in the game - I completely forgot it all. I got to Disc 3 and gave up. I couldn't take any more. I just went back to one of my all time faves; Final Fantasy Tactics. Classic example of how it doesn't have to be Super3D with all this advanced graphic mumbo bullshit. They did half the game with 2D, and the other half with a fucking awesome story! And another half with a beautiful Turn-based system we use for D&D. Not that I ever played D&D. Well, I did. Once. The DM was a douche bag. *Paul*.

I went from Resident Evil, to RE 2, to RE 3. I got into zombie games because of Capcom's work and still am highly impressed by their productions. The original was so laughable, but for the time, was still fucking scary. I actually wouldn't touch the game after my first play at my buddy's place in the eighth grade because he guided me to the spot with the zombie in the closet and spooked the shit out of me.
Speaking of Scary, the title that carried the PlayStation between releases was always Silent Hill. When Final Fantasy VII lost its steam in sales, Sillent Hill was fifty bucks. RE 2 gave way to RE3, Silent Hill was fifty bucks. The PSOne took over for the original model in the stores - fifty bucks was still on the price tag. It took another two years before the stores would reduce the price. Mainly because copies were never traded in and never really stayed unsold for a long time. I had a copy until my friend's modchipped PlayStation cracked the inside of the disc. It was good while it lasted. I have it pirated now. Laissez les bon temps rouler!

It was about this time, in high school, that my family acquired a computer. An AMD PC, specifically. And my first PC games to play at home. I was no stranger to PC titles - I had played Starcraft, Midnight Rescue, Operation: Neptune, and Doom. But those were all, by twenty-first century standards, almost archaic (only Starcraft was relatively new at the time). So I got Half Life, Unreal Tournament, and Sim City 2000 - three games everyone has. And things were good. I was good at them... mostly. Sim City was never my forte. Even though I really loved it. Had to get my own machine to play them, though. The family computer was defined as a machine intended only for family stuff. No filling the drive with games and shit! Okay, fine. Done. Got an Intel PII system for myself and chalked it full of games and music. One game my folks got me that I refused to install on my machine was Star Trek: Hidden Evil. It's the one that follows the events of Star Trek: Insurrection, and you play a Vulcan officer commanded to investigate the Ba'ku planet during an archaeological dig with the help of Commander Data and Captain Picard.
Now, I like Star Trek. I try to like Star Trek stuff when people say it's bad. I try harder the more they bash it. But this one just defeated my sense of denial. It really was that bad. Too this day, the only machine that's ever read the disc is the old family machine.

So we're in 2004 now. I've gotten my own PS2, a Cube, and toyed with the XBOX. Hated it. EB Games sold me three broken machines. Got sick of dealing with it. Resident Evil 4, the GTA series, so many untold titles. I couldn't list them all off here. But in five years I played the Metal Gear Solid series, the Resident Evil series, the Silent Hill series, the GTA franchise, some Diablo II, Twisted Metal games, Vagrant Story, Gran Turismo 3 and 4, Shadow of Colossus, and about fifty other games that sucked huge donkey cock.
Two years ago, my buddy, Mister Oolau, got me hooked on World of Warcraft. And I have spent about 2000 hours on it, like I said earlier. 82 days of login time. I have uncovered the entire map of all four continents. I've almost hit level 80 (the most recent level cap) as of this writing, and spend most of my time running around, chatting while I whack shit on the head. Standard gaming fare.

And now that I have an XBOX360, I've played GTAIV, Oblivion, Condemned, Guitar Hero and Rock Band, Fallout 3, Call of Duty 4, Stranglehold, Dead Rising, Lost Planet, and some odd more titles - I can't recall them all at this retarded hour of the morning.
With that in mind, I'll wrap this up.

Games have been a part of my life. A mainstay in my sociological existence. Games have helped define me and have provided me with heroes I simply coudn't find elsewhere. I'm glad they're here. I'm glad they're staying.

Cheers.

2008: A Disrespectful Look at the Year Good Fortune Forgot

2009-01-03T01:11:00.000-08:00

It's only the wee hours of the third day of 2009 and I'm already basking in my shiny new year's wonder - despite being sicker than dogshit. There are so many things I don't miss about the last 366 days. The list is long; it lengthens every time I think about 2008. And even then, I try only remembering last year when I have to try and think about where I put something down last week. And then it all comes oozing back.
2008 was designated by the UN General Assembly to be the International Year of the Planet Earth. And admirable thought when you consider the number of environmental causes they intend to put the fundraising money towards on behalf of Year of the Earth. And yet, last year was also declared the International Year of Languages, of Sanitation, of the Potato. Year of the Potato? What is this, the Chinese calendar on methamphetamines? Are we really expected to take them seriously when they adorn a year with the ugliest vegetable grown on Earth? I mean, yeah, yummy shit. French fries (or *freedom* fries to you political American cultural SADISTS), potato chips (or Potato Crisps to the Brits, who wasted the word Chip on Fries, yet managed not to find a use for the word Fries after that. Shame - we in Normal Person Land call that lack of foresight). But hey. Let's be serious. Potatoes are no belle peppers (See how I did that word play? Bell pepper => Belle of the Ball? Bah. You'll get maybe when your grown up teeth come in).

How did this year start? Oh, I'll tell you. It started with a wail. Oil prices hit a record high right after the New Year. They were up to a Dollar Forty a Litre in Canadian pumps. I think it's like, five bucks a gallon. But whatever about that; I don't deal in outdated measurements. How many hands tall is that horse? Fuck the hand. Fuck the horse. And Fuck you.

2007 wasn't too bad a year for banks, who made an absolute killing with their subprime mortgage scam. But when fate bites you in the ass, you can't turn and bite him back. And because he's still biting you on your ass. Trust me. When fate bites - it's because it's hungry. So in the wonder of 2008, we got to enjoy watching the stock markets take a dive out the global window sill, like so many brokers to follow.

Iran built a space center and launched a rocket. Iran. With a Space Center. Hey, weren't we supposed to blow them up next anyway? Doesn't that just seem like a wasted effort?

I read about this one in the paper in March - they have the article on the internet somewhere - about the US shooting a spy satellite carrying toxic fuel. By launching a missile at it from the ground. This was supposed to be a proud moment for the US Missile Defense System. But they missed one crucial detail. What of the toxic elements of the fuel? What are our guarantees that we didn't spend nine weeks breathing that shit in? The only people who wouldn't notice are Los Angelinos.

Fidel Castro resigned as President of Cuba this year. Probably because he was tired of not being as scary to Americans as Iraq, Korea, the Taliban and Al-Qaida, even coming up behind Igglepiggle in the terror department. I'm sure somewhere, someone fifty years behind the times is crying because he didn't get a chance to blow Castro up with an exploding cigar while he was still.... Kiiiinda important. That actually happened, by the way. Is it that hard to believe that the US goverment spent millions of dollars and came up with more than 600 ways to kill him, most of which were implemented, and he lived to step down as President of 32 years?

The earthquake in China. All over the damned news. What, did we run out of people who died here? You send reporters with TV crews and sandwiches - and all they do is stare at the dying and the needy. While eating those sandwiches. Good. I hope you choked on them. I hope the bread was stale, you fucks.

Ooh, on a nerd note, astronomers found a new supernova remnant. They called it G1.9+0.3 (Yeah, I know. Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it...) and determined its age by comparing its rate of expansion. Their guess is that about 25000 years ago, this thing exploded and spent 24860 years languishing before it became observable to anyone on Earth. And about nearly a century and a half, someone noticed it.

Bill Gates quit his job. Went on to charity work. Because, you know, it wasn't enough for him to make a basquillion dollars just owning the place. He actually did shit there (or at least pretended to really convincingly).

Barack Obama begins to fidget like a four year old when he's told he was elected to lead the United States for a four year term. And not because he was excited. He knows what we Canadians know; he's going to get shot. Doing something awesome gets you SHOT. Lincoln freed the slaves and got SHOT. Kennedy laid out the space program to put a man on the moon and got fucking SHOT. Bruce Willis saved all those people at Nakatomi and guess what? He got fucking SHOT. Obama doesn't even have to do anything. Just being the first black President is bound to set someone's clock to Asskicking Hour. They're going to wait eight or nine months, until President Obama feels REAL good about himself. Then he's going to get tapped in the head on his morning jog.

Oh - another nerd note. We found water on Mars! Frozen water!
That's right. Those giant polar ice caps... they're obviously just for show, right?

Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, whose remains were found in 1991 (according to my trusty fact resource, Wikipedia) and went unidentified for 17 years, were finally confirmed with DNA analysis. Now, I'm going to assume the Russians went to the trouble of testing the corpse since the news site with the actual article was all in Cyrillic (parlez anglais next time Igor? I'm evidently not cool enough to be down with your bad Russian self), which leads to a simple question. Why are the Russkies even bothering to ID the man who single-handedly killed Russia? I suppose I shouldn't even ask; the Catholic Church matyred him. Does becoming a saint really get that easy now? You can be the biggest asshole the world has ever seen - lead one of the most powerful nations of the early twentieth century right into the ground so far that it would take two major wars and 80 years to dig itself out. Then get arrested and hoisted off the Decision Making Committee and slaughtered along with your family, your doctor and your little house-minions. Mix and let simmer for a few decades and voila! Instant Sainthood. God, if it got easier we'd see some Living Saints before too long.

A leap second was tacked onto 2008 - which was a treat for me. It was SUCH AN IMPORTANT THING to make sure that we kept in perfect check with the rest of the universe that we added one more tick to the clock. 23:59:59, xx:xx:xx, 0:00:00. I bet that upset someone's countdown. "Let Old Ac--- wait, what?"

Roy Schieder (Jaws), Jeff Healey, Gary Gygax (D&D Creator), Arthur C. Clarke (The guy who wrote "2001: A Space Odyssey"), Charlton Heston (Planet of the Apes), Stan Winston (Make-up for Jurassic Park, Terminator, Aliens etc), George Carlin, Estelle Getty (Stop Or My Mom Will Shoot!), Bernie Mac, Issac Hayes, Don LaFontaine (the guy with the voice of God that did the film trailers back in the day), Paul Newman, Michael Crichton, pin-up model Bettie Page, Majel Barrett (Trekkies will know her as the voice of the Enterprise computer. TrekFAGS will think of Voyager first. Hence the FAG part.), and Eartha Kitt all died this year. Now, all right, Estelle Getty and Paul Newman were written off as dead ten years ago, but Carlin, Stan Winston... Michael Crichton...? I loved his books! I wished he'd stuck around to write a couple more.

Oh - And if the year wasn't fucked up enough - did anyone note the '08 calendar that placed Saint Patrick's Day on the 15th of March? Something called Holy Week, interfered with our right to have an excuse to get fucking hammered together as per the PLAN. Who here as ever worked a Monday Saint Patrick's Day? Ever wanted to walk into the pub and see a hundred silly drunken faces who want to buy you a round? No! Not this year! This year it was a Saturday - a day where everyone was already relaxed and generally ungiving and ungenerous - me more than anyone else, but still!

As for me, I was given the boot by my parents and had to get a place with my friends, lost my hard drive to a major system failure and had to get a new drive - resulting in a serious fall-behind in college which left my marks so low I can't return for my fourth semester, had forty-two calls from creditors wanting their money back since November and last but not least - I've gotten laid once in the last 60 days. But that's a story in and of itself.

This year actually made effort. Effort spent in being so miserable it would set the standard for optimism in the years following (until we get too big for our britches again and get 2008 all over our 2014).
2008, you've certainly earned this.
FUCK YOU. Fuck you in lights. Fuck you in tights. Fuck you from afar. Fuck you in a car. Fuck you after class. Fuck you in the ass. Fuck you and your mother. And your sister and your brother. And your little dog too. Fuck you.

Crack Baby?

2008-12-11T04:08:00.001-08:00

You know the state of the world when you see a commercial and have the following conversation with your friend.
"The woman is white with blond hair, and the girl calling her Mom is half-and-half with dark brown hair."
"That just means her father is black."
"No, that's that dude there. He's so white you could swap him out for pigeon shit."
"Okay. She's either illegitimate or she's from the chick's previous marriage."
Not criticizing colour here. Just saying. Fifty years ago, there weren't that many possible explanations. She was either illegit or she was a adopted from a Hispanic crack mom. That's all I'm saying.

Deaf Kiss

2008-12-10T20:36:00.000-08:00

A Chinese guy caused his girlfriend to go partially deaf in probably one of the hands-down WEIRDEST kisses in the history of non-torture, non-bondage physical contact. He sucked on her face so hard, he reduced the pressure in her head and caused her eardrums to dislocate and collapsed the entire construct in one ear.

I'm going to repeat this. He REDUCED THE PRESSURE IN HER HEAD, so badly he caused a breakdown of her hearing.

Now, doctors are using this incident as a caution; that's right - a CAUTION; on how to safely go about "safe sex" when kissing.

I was reading this at Telegraph.co.uk, and the article, I kid you not, added information about the victim's hometown of Zhuhai.

"Zhuhai, located in the Pearl River delta, is a city of 1.3 million, and is famous for its beautiful local scenery and green parks. It is home to a reconstruction of the Summer Palace destroyed by the British in the 19th century."

I can't even spin this. I have no opinion on this subject. It's frankly mindboggling. But whatever.

Quantum Mechanics a la XBOX

2008-11-29T01:16:00.000-08:00

As referenced in Penny Arcade, the more Electronic Arts releases shitty games and half-assed sports rehashes, the bigger the piles of money their douchewad executives get to nap atop. Recently, EA has started to toy with a new concept; the release of quality titles and fun diversions. My hope sprung with the release of Freedom Fighters 5 years ago. I hope upon hope that more would follow - but the latest Sim titles have been wonderful puddles of piss. I won't comment on the sports games; Anything I can play, I'll play. Anything I can't; I'll watch on TSN. And now... holy mother. Mirror's Edge is fucking BEAUTIFUL. They should have subtitled the game "Road to Digital Orgasm". Because that is what it is. It's really a solid title with a lot of challenge. And it's just so fucking pretty. Think PORTAL meets Splinter Cell. Minus any overflow of shit or needless control functions. Left, right, forward, backward, jump, slide, attack, Matrix thing. Have at 'em cowboy. No menus. No ammo counters. No Quicktime events (I think). Jumping puzzles actually demand that you not only get a feel for the layout, but quickly because everyone is trying to kill you, and generally they're fairly good at it.
I haven't finished it yet - I hope to dig into LEFT4DEAD this week some time. May I'll get real lucky and battle through the rest of MIRROR'S EDGE before it has to go back to Blockbuster.

Through the Looking Glass

2008-11-22T21:48:00.000-08:00

A year ago I would have described all reality TV programming as a magnificent pile of horse shit. Then again, I wasn't actually watching any of it at the time. I have never followed any Survivor series, or any of the 32 season series that followed in its frothing wake. American Chopper? Chop that. Miami Ink? Like I give a shit about ugly pricks painting shit onto other ugly pricks.
Yet...
Somehow I've been drawn in. And done so under the sinister administrations of one Gordon Ramsey. That's right. Chef Simon Cowell. The dude has two concurrent shows! The F Word, whereupon he tears prospective sous chefs to little bite sizes chunks and drowned the bloodiest most sensitive bits in salt water loaded with piranhas. Then there is KITCHEN NIGHTMARES. In this show he, instead of people coming to him to get wrecked, goes out to find people to wreck!
I witnessed a recent episode where Chef Ramsey goes to this Mexican restaurant out in some godforsaken nowhere in the asshole of America, and discovers that it's almost as bad as a Taco Bell. All the food was cooked a week ago - the chives were five months old. They even put the refried beans into a garbage bucket for storage. I laughed my ass off when Ramsey flipped his fucking bin and trucked out into the dining room with this bucket and shows it to all the guests. Yeah. They were fucking eating it at the time - so I laughed at that too.
And now I'm hooked.
But not to FOX reality shows. I'll stick to the Food Network. Usually because I'm pretty hungry when it's midnight and I'm baked, and the best motivation to eat is a brutal cooking show.
I can't help it. Reality shows have grown on me a little. It was bound to happen. Like if you listen to the most annoying song in the universe over and over, you're going to start singing it eventually unless you go insane first.
That's it for now. I'm hungry like a *bitch*.

Look At The Sweat On That Dude

2008-11-12T12:28:00.001-08:00

It's been a busy week. I'm finally getting out on my own. I've spent the last 17 years bottled away in my parents' basement; I don't even remember what it's like to wake up to sun filtering in through the window. So this is a definite positive. I'm going to be living in with some friends, which makes it all that much sweeter.
Attended a birthday party where the guest of honour got sick and spent so long in the bathroom panting and wheezing he jacked up the bathroom's temperature by 5 degrees and came out sopping wet. The bathroom was like the inside of a cave. Then there's this idiot.
I honestly cannot explain this picture. But Rock Band 2 ensued and the world was right again.

I've spent the last two weeks with copious amounts of booze, weed or both in my system. I know now what I've been missing... about two weeks of this month, to be precise. Memory of the inbetweenies is quite spotty. I only remember the party because I was sent the photos.

I'm glad I got to unwind. Staying in and doing nothing is good on paper. But actually doing it covers about two hours of time; three, tops. Smegging around is really a short term activity. Long stretches of time demand a broader, slightly busier game plan. Even if you break up the hours of smegginess with a game of cards or otherwise events of general asshattery.

And, no. I am not one of those people that sits at his computer and dicks with Facebook for fifteen hours. I literally can't stay on a website for more than five minutes, unless it's Wikipedia. I can read Wikipedia articles for hours. My XBOX360 is also decent for passing the time. World of Warcraft used to be a passable diversion, but it's lost its love. And gained some ARGH I WANT TO KILL YOU. So, I'm done with that game.

I also am not a huge TV watcher. Used to be in my single-digits. Bugs Bunny, the Simpsons, Tiny Toons, Degrassi High - anything that was on, I would watch. The Cosby Show, Murphy Brown, Roseanne, Family Matters, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air; the sky was the limit. Now... I watch a little CSI or Family Guy now and then. Or I'll stare blankly at the screen when I'm wasted, but that's about it. It's time for us to stop thinking of TV as "having a good time". TV is for when there is no good time to be had and you need something to assist in tossing your brain out the window.

Anyway, that's about it for me this time. My rambling hasn't been cohesive today, both online and off. Toodles.

Ho-Ho-Hold the Holiday

2008-10-30T05:18:00.000-07:00

Gifts are coming into season. In addition to all the February fuckfests that turned into September and October babies, Christmas is coming up, and *what a treat* that is. No one is immune to Christmas season. We see the plastic Santa Claus that lights from the inside and sings "Jingle Bells". We hear the Salvation Army guy in the Big Red Suit ringing the bell. Plaid goes back into fashion, for some damned reason. That and berets. How does Christmas draw everyone back no later than 1994?
And is it me, or should I be writing this six weeks from now? Christmas has swallowed up Thanksgiving and Hallowe'en. The Christmas shit is on sale by Labour Day! And it follows through until Boxing Day - which is now Boxing *Week* and on as far as New Years. We really need to remember; this is a single day. Christmas is one day out of 365. And we've stretched out the holiday cheer to last at least four months. No wonder everyone is sick of the season by November.
But here's me. Sick of holidays only because of the gift-giving aspect. I don't see anything wrong with giving gifts. Gifts are supposed to represent your appreciation of a person. But I get "What Do You Want For Christmas?", sometimes so casually that it seems that they feel obliged to buy a gift for no other reason than just as an excuse to take a trip to the shopping mall. And I'm not innocent either. I always have to ask people what they want, or get help in selecting a gift. But, I have an excuse. I'm a man, and not the brightest one at that. I mean, it's fairly easy for me to pick gifts for a few people. Booze, usually. But when it comes to family members, for the most part - I have no clue. I'm hopeless. But that's okay. Because we have... gift cards! The gift that says, "I went to the store, and came home with this!" I was almost stunned when I discovered gift cards for a dozen chain stores for sale at Mac's Convenience. People no longer have to actually *go* to La Senza or Home Depot to indulge their laziness or incompetence. They can be twice as lazy, or twice as useless! It's a fucking miracle.
I promised I wasn't going to swear in this holiday piece. But sometimes it's just too much. Christmas just isn't what it used to be.

I Was A Teenage Zombie!

2008-10-25T23:37:00.000-07:00

Friday Night at about midnight, I get a call, almost frantically, from my friend D who's telling me there's a Zombie Walk in our city (Hamilton) Saturday at 1 in the afternoon. Naturally, my response is to promptly soil mysef and start screaming like an idiot. I immediately dug up some old clothes and got all pretty and rested up for the big day.
My god.
I was late - but that's okay, they were sluggish in getting the Walk started. I got my Dead makeup on and thought - hey - that chick with rubber intestines hanging out of jacket is tossing blood on people. I'm game.
So I go over to the "Blood Wagon", a minivan with a lot of crap tossed in the back, and I get Corn Syrup tossed on my clothes. Just one problem - the corn syrup was thin and runny. So basically she hit me with water in ten degree weather.
No problem! thought I. I'm at the FUCKIN' ZOMBIE WALK. I was psyched! Too psyched to let a little mild discomfort get me down.
I go over to the other chick, who's got the good stuff. REAL thick this shit was. I said "Smear it on the one cheek here." And she laid it on from the ear to the chin so thick it dripped. Now we're talking!
Now, I was with D and her cousin by this point already. D was done up in her wedding dress, believe it or don't, a pinch of pancake makeup and a dash of blood for kicks. Not *quite* sure what her cousin was dressed in. I think it was a poncho. *Anyway*...
We started off in Gore Park, dead centre (no pun intended) of the city, and headed south. Our first stop? A shopping mall! What zombie invasion wouldbe official without a trip to the mall?
So there are dozens, maybe hundreds of us, lumbering through Jackson Square with bystanders wondering just what the FUCK was going on. I'm betting a few were waiting for the locusts and the second coming of Jesus. I got a couple of quick snaps with my cell phone. They're fairly blurry, and really shitty pictures overall, but...

So, we trek all the way through the mall, coming out the south side and trailing the street until we reach historic Dundurn Castle, where we veered into the Cemetery.
Now we're bordering on heresy.
I really had to pee by the time we got the graveyard too. I bet the Church had bathrooms, but I wasn't about to go into a holy place with zombie makeup on. Not that I'm religious. But I *am* afraid of religious maniacs. Just because they're retarded doesn't mean they can't set you on fire. That's how they cleansed evil back in the day, you know. By lighting that shit on *fire*.

Okay, so now the walk is almost done. We meet at some crypt in the middle of the graveyard and I'm getting a little creeped out. I love zombies. Love zombie movies. I've seen hundreds. Well, dozens. Lots. I have Max Brooks' Zombie Survival Guide and I have World War Z on Audiobook. Well, *had*, until my MacBook's hard drive fried. One part was narrated by Alan Alda. The guy from MASH. Fuckin' eh, right? I'll have to do some digging at ChaptersIndigo.

Rambling.

Yeah, so I'm getting a little creeped out. Because as much as I love the zombie mythos - being in a real graveyard, with ... like, DEAD people dumped in holes a few feet below us?? And we're... socialising? Taking photographs? It was an experience. Pro photographer had us lumber up the hill at him so he could get some killer stills and I'm hoping we make the Monday newspaper. For all I know, we're on the Spec's website.

Anyhow, it would have ended there, but I decided to be a moron. And evidently I wasn't alone, god forbid. I wound up having to go straight to work from the Walk. So I took a bus ALL the way back up town, with this pgifaced kid staring at me the whole goddamn way. Don't people have any respect for the dead??

I got to work and scared one of the hosts into nearly fainting. That made my day. I scared two cook and the store's general manager. It's 4 am and the make up is still not entirely off. I tried to get as much of the make-up off, and I washed the corn syrup blood off in the staff bathroom. But there's still some white make-up in my hair, and the dye in the syrup stained my hands and face for HOURS. Well, things could be worse.

I could have missed the whole damned thing.

A Difference of Opinion

2008-10-23T19:12:00.000-07:00

When you speak to someone, you are generally conveying a series of opinions. "It's nice out today." "Traffic is hell." "School is driving me stupid."
These are assumed to be opinion. Or, at least they should be.
So often I am hearing from people, "Well, that's just your opinion." "That's just what -you- think." Well, fair enough. You got me. It's just what I think. But that doesn't really change what I said. When I inform a hopeful moviegoer that I saw the film and hated it, what gives them the right to treat my opinion like I'm not entitled to it? And meanwhile, they have all the right in the world to be in love with a movie they've never seen just because some dumb ass pop sensation with a pretty hair cut is in it? Or because "Stefanie said it was good" or "because it has vampires" or some dumb shit like that.
Why has it gotten to the point where, on top of having to walk on eggshells, in fear that someone will cry sexism, racism or some other damned "ism", we have to formulate our opinions in such a way that we are beating the people we're talking to over the head with the term?
"So, I saw the trailer for Saw V, and I really want to go and see it."
Okay. There's an optimist if I've ever heard one. But I can't say, "Yeah, I wouldn't go if it were free." I have to resort to, "Well, IN MY OPINION, and considering the lackluster success of the Saw series since the first sequel, I'm not hopeful about the quality of the film and blah blah blah."
But on the same coin, I get beat over the head for liking stuff all the time!
I'm a Star Trek fan - so that makes me a geek.
I like trance and progressive music - so I'm a freak.
I like KFC - so I support the company's practices on how they kill their chickens and I'm such a terrible person for that.
I work with computers and know them inside and out - so I'm a computer nerd.
And me defending my position on these things is heresy! There's nothing wrong with Star Trek. Nothing wrong with Trance. Nothing wrong with a bucket of Chicken. And nothing wrong with my opinions. I don't care if you don't like my delivery, or whether or not you're -interested- in my opinion. I'm as much entitled to mine as you are to yours.
The longer we keep strangling each other with this precept of "respecting each other's opinions" to the extreme of being afraid someone will be offended by what you have to say about a topic, the closer we come to falling apart as a society.
And we're already pretty fucked.

The One That Worked!

2008-10-21T23:26:00.000-07:00

In 1959, Edward D. Wood, Jr. wrote, and directed his greatest film - Plan 9 From Outer Space. And like the lesser films earlier in his career, this one stank like fish floating on the lake.

From day One, the film was doomed to failure. The cast and crew had to be baptised before filming, because the only financial backer Wood could find was a Church. Wood intended to have Bela Lugosi, a longtime friend, star in this science fiction epic, however, Lugosi died just a few days after filming began, and only a minute's worth of footage with him was ever shot. Wood maintained his script, and recast Lugosi's role to his wife's chiropractor, who was a good deal younger and taller. The solution to that problem was to throw a Dracula cape on him and have him stalk around silently throughout his presence in the film to hide his face, and the fact that he looked and sounded nothing like Lugosi.
Tor Johnson, who had starred opposite Lugosi in Wood's earlier works, was notorious for slurring all his lines, and moreso for bumping into or knocking over everything on set. And this was no exception.
The dialogue was so laughable and full of flubs that weren't removed, since Wood lacked an editor. Shots were full of technical errors, for the lack of reshots to replace the footage with. And the special effects were anything but special.
This film has become, since its release, a cult favourite *because* of its wild faults. It's to the point where indie filmmaker John Johnson plans to release a remake in 2009, scheduled for September 9th ( 09.09.09, according to the site).

Normally, I would be outraged by an idea this stupid. But I'm excited. This could work! As long as the filmmakers take it as seriously as they claim to want to.

I look forward to reading up on it more as the release date approaches.

A Lack of Understanding

2008-10-18T20:51:00.000-07:00

This afternoon, I was taking the bus home and an Indian man boarded with his three daughters. They were seemingly happy-go-lucky, chatting amongst themselves. It occurred to me almost right away that they were speaking an Indian dialect. I gave the bus a once-over, looking for precisely what I found.
An old woman, glaring at them. I know what was going through her mind too.
"What's the matter? Didn't you teach them English?"
I know this because I've heard stuff like this for years from Canadians whose first language was English. Even my own family members. And honestly, I don't get their position.
If two Chinese guys want to talk to each other in Chinese, please; go ahead. I don't care what you're talking about. Even if you're plotting a murder, I really couldn't give two shits. I rarely get past the first shit before I decide to follow a tight skirt for a few hundred metres.
But, and here's where people take the extremes, when those Chinese guys or Indians or Arabs or Whatever decide to speak to me - I would prefer an honest effort to speak English. It really doesn't have to be perfect; I'm sure my best attempts to speak other languages sound like there's shit falling out of my mouth to native speakers. The guys at the gas stations - they speak an understandable English. It could use a bit of work, but it gets people through his counter. My doctor is an immigrant. A lot of my neighbours are and have in the past been immigrants.

What *does* really bother me is this Holier-Than-Thou attitude of some of these immigrants - the ones who shit on our customs despite being on our soil. The ones who scared companies out of using "Merry Christmas" and replacing it with "Happy Holidays". What the fuck is that all about? If I'm not mistaken, Canada is still primarily Christian. The government, the boards of directors of the major corporations, so on and so forth. We're not really evenly spaced as far as cultures go. The immigrants are pretty much at the bottom of the pile; that is to say that the red tape has kept a lot of new arrivals from securing high level work in Canada.

Why am I suddenly not allowed to say Merry Christmas in public? I worked at Taco Bell over one Christmas season, and without thinking, said Merry Christmas to some Arab dude and his wife or something. He turns right around, looks at me and says, "That is inappropriate." And for a guy with an accent as thick as his, I was surprised he got "inappropriate" out as clearly as he did. Obviously he's had practice.

Why am I bending over backwards for these people? I didn't ask any of them to move here. I didn't fuck with their homeland and make it so hard for them to stay. And neither did you. Unless you did. But I know it wasn't me. The fact of the matter is, the traditions in this nation should be respected, just as they would expect us to respect their customs in their nation.

As reported in early December 2007 in Mississauga, Ontario, 57 year old Muhammad Parvez murdered his sixteen year old daughter Asqa because she refused to wear her hijab. A Hijab, for the uninformed, is the scarf worn on a Muslim woman's head that covers her hair and neck. This girl put a video of herself without the hijab (so I am told) on YouTube, and when the culture clashed arrived at daddy's doorstep, he flipped.

In this country where people are granted the rights and freedoms to say what the feel, do what they believe (as long as you don't shit on someone else's rights), and present themselves in whatever manner suits them, this man decided to end his daughter's life over a stupid piece of cloth.

If I woke up tomorrw and decided I wanted to be a Buddhist, there isn't jack-bo-diddly-shit my Christian father can do about it. All of my life's choices are mine to make and no one else's. As were Asqa Parvez's, but someone failed to understand that.

It's this die-hard grip on their customs that makes them the untrusted and sometimes unliked part of this society. Their former society wasn't a free one. Women are second-class, and the leaders ruled with an iron fist. It's so different here for them that they have trouble letting go. Or they don't want to let go - maybe they don't know how. But not only do they pay the price, but so do we.

Foreign men talking down to women here. I've seen it happen. One of my bosses was reduced to tears by the way on Muslim man (with the worst moustache on record) spoke to her. I've faced moments where I would be mistreated by them as well. I asked a Muslim woman for the time, and the man nearby (I guess it was her husband) was like, "What do you want." "I just wanted to know the time." "She does not know." He was very rude. The only reason I didn't say anything back was because of her. She gave me a very polite look.

I've noticed that about Middle Eastern women. They're sedatives with arms and legs. That might explain why they don't find AK-47s at the customs check-in. Unlike the often belligerent Indian women I've met, Arabic women are far more demure. I've heard maybe a handful actually make conversation with anyone. It's a shame they're so withdrawn - I bet you they're all fucking geniuses.

The top levels of this civilisation need to stop being such pussies and stand up for what traditions this country prides itself on, instead of hiding from the arrivals behind the "We're such a Multicultural Society" pop slogan. I support Multiculturalism, but there's a limit to how far I'm willing to go. Abandoning my culture in favour of someone else's - yeah. That's the limit. I'll embrace everyone's right to practice their culture and language. But you step on my toes, I'll get in your face about it. With a rachet.

Explain that one to the 75 virgins who learn they don't have a cock to suck because it got bitchslapped with a bloody rachet.

Style, Grace, and Explosions

2008-10-16T01:53:00.000-07:00

I speak most often about elements of the technological age in the blog. It tends to lean that way because - hey, I'm trenched so deeply in technology and mired in the society that is bound to it like a slave to his mistress. The relationship is sometimes violent - and one of us is always getting fucked, but in the end, we both remember the safe word and go to bed happy.

Perhaps I took the metaphor a step farther than I should've.

With that behind us (I hope), I feel it important to keep moving forward with what we have, rather than remembering what life was like without them (or what it would be like if we had it all taken away). So I think it's time to update the list of Seminal films - the ones that defined our generation. At the very least, the ones that impacted me.

10. Jurassic Park

Spielberg bought us the biggest adventure epic I can think of that didn't get cheesier with time, and didn't let its technical aspects become dated in terms of special effects. It was the film that introduced me to Jeff Goldblum and his famous stutter. It was also the film that made me hate movies with kids in them.

9. ALIEN

This one came out before I was even born, but I watch it regularly on DVD, because the film has the right mix of subtle sci-fi and 70s horror without the skant teenagers screaming and getting hacked to pieces. An intellectual horror film; and one of the last to be sure. No, Aliens is not on the list. It was a good film; don't get me wrong. It just didn't affect me like these 10 films did.

8. The Blues Brothers

The only musical I was eager to see, and felt better when it was over. And believe me, I've seen musicals. Most were shit. Mamma Mia was alright, but it doesn't exactly appeal to the male audience.

7. Night of the Living Dead

I mean the original, black and white George A. Romero picture. I've seen it more than 250 times in my 23 years, and never get tired of it. It launched my fascination with the Hollywood zombie and the Undead Apocalypse scenarios. Because of this film, I've seen about 50-70% of the zombie films made before and since.

6. Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country

Directed by Nicholas Meyer, the guy who did Star Trek II, the film diverts from all the Roddenberry "warm fuzzy feelings" and "big happy family" bullshit that gave Star Trek its camp feel. I was pleased how Meyer disregarded the dying Roddenberry's fuming and ranting about how he hated the movie. These qualities were reflected in Deep Space Nine, my favourite Star Trek series to date.

5. Army of Darkness

There's really nothing pivotal about this film, except for the numerous one-liners from Bruce Campbell. From the Boomstick to Mister Fancypants, I think I've put all the good ones on my MSN name.

4. The Wizard

Yes. This was a terrible movie. But it sated my early videogeekhood. And that Jenny Lewis turned out to be a real hottie. "The PowerGlove... it's SO BAD."

3. Serenity

Joss Whedon, the mastermind of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, launched a failed series called Firefly. I'm sure some of you know it. And Serenity was just as clever and awesome as Firefly, only bigger. Much bigger.

2. Die Hard/Die Hard With A Vengeance

These two share a billing because it's Bruce Willis and John McTiernan. They replaced Reginald Vel Johnson with Samuel L Jackson, which considering the time the third film was made - was a good idea. Both are great in their own ways - Die Hard set the standard for movies that followed, and created a whole genre - "Die Hard on a plane, Die Hard on a boat, Die Hard in a building (isn't that Die Hard?)". Die Hard 3 was just Die Hard1 with the doors blown open, and all the extra awesomeness spilling out into the street. McClane wasn't as much the reluctant hero as he was at first, but he's a lot more crass, which is okay by me.

1. Dawn of the Dead

I again refer to the original Romero film, not its remake. I saw Dawn right after Night and was just fixed to it. They didn't hide shots and made the blood gags really graphic. Sure, the zombies were blue and green and the blood was a little too red, but the comic book feel allowed the violence to go so far over the top without really disturbing me. It wasn't as scary (even at 12) as it may have been to people seeing it in theatres in 1978, but I loved it nonetheless. I've seen it 324 times in 11 years (yes, I kept count) and a number of times more counting the International and Extended versions.
When the Dead come, I'm going to need a hunting rifle, a sixshooter, a crowbar and a Volkswagen Sciorocco, as well as someone who can die first so I may live.

There is no "King Kong". No "Godfather". No "Citizen Kane". I'm not interested in how history was shaped by these films. By the time I came around, most of the great films were no longer really that relevant. Agree or don't. Don't post and bitch.

A Lesson In Restraint

2008-10-09T19:07:00.000-07:00

Let's get a few matters cleared up.

Jim goes to the store, and buys a video game with "ONLINE PLAY" splashed on the front and his eyes pop out of his face like the game was a bouncing blonde in fuck-me boots. He shells out the fifty bucks for the game, well-prepared to lay down a further twenty a month for the online subscription fees. He jauntily wanders home, thinking of the virtual wonders in store for him.

He installs the game with no trouble and is off on his way! Starts making friends, gets into the game and tries all facets of it just to say he's done a little of everything before he decides what he likes best.

Some time later, as his play time goes on, and his experience in the game improves, he's les star struck with the game but in place of this haze of dreamlandiness is pride in the effort and glorious waste of spare time. He knows it's just a game, and enjoys it all the more for it.

But now he's at the maximum experience level for his online character. The adventuring is wound down and the challenges begin to fade, but there is still life! The life of Player Versus Player combat.

He didn't play this aspect much - he knew that he didn't stand much of a chance against more seasoned players, but he's got his iron balls on now and okay, let's do this.

His team is composed of a twelve year old with a Ritalin prescription, a 40 year old stay-at-home computer nerd living off his parents' hydro, and the rest are either flamboyantly beligirent, bogglingly stupid or not at their keyboard for the duration of the match.

"Okay," says Jim. "No problem. I'm here for fun."
He reels when someone with the broken capslock wants to know why the FUCK HE'S NOT DEFENDING THE BASE. Jim replies that he spotted an opponent and went to go and flatten him. Jim enjoys burning the pants off the competition.
FUCKING MORON, the screen hollers at him. LEARN2PLAY RETARD.
Well, Jim's not going to let someone with a chip on his shoulder keep him from his fun. He paid for the game just like anyone else, including Sir Caps-a-lot.
"I didn't know playing retard was the idea of this game," Jim jovially keys into the chat bar.
STFU, the Internet Magician returns. U SUCK AT UR CLASS U WASTING SPACE FOR A GOOD PLAYER.
"If they're anything like you, their match is probably going badly too," Jim replies, his mental defenses going up.
HOW CAN U NOT HAVE A LIFE BUT STILL SUCK AT PVP
"Easy. I spend my no-life time taking classes, working, having sex with girls. But I imagine you're a special brand of bum."
UR SCORE SUX GET OFF THE PVP
"It's too bad you can't boot me off. And until they put admin stuff in the hands of retards with their head glued to the Caps Lock key, I'll be staying for the match."
Suddenly, Jim doesn't feel like playing much anymore.

This is a sad, yet disturbingly common story with all online games. Somehow, people who don't have 11 hours out of the day to devote to right clicking on the boar until it dies translates to being beneath the ones that do. "Noobs" are looked down on because they're not at the maximum skill level and when they do reach the top, they're compared to by their equipment and their skillsets.

This allegory is especially true of World of Warcraft. Elitist PvP douchebags berate people playing for fun (the purpose for which the game was designed) because they don't have enough "purples" (An "epic" or very high quality piece of gear with a lot of stat bonuses is indicated in game with a Purple title) or because they have "Welfare Epics", entry-level PvP gear or gear that was cheap to come by and easy to acquire.

Meanwhile the ones with the good equipment only got because they tolerated their losing streak and accrued the minimum points until they had what they needed for trade-ins anyway.

The trouble is, Jim can't make the beligirence stop. He can't ask them to stop talking to him. He wants to. He really does. He hopes one day, there will be peace with even the most self-centered people online. It's a false hope, but these are desperate times.

It's like these forum crawlers who spend their lives finding ways of spurning these long debates about how much of an ass everyone thinks he is. He doesn't even have to argue his case. He just has to make fun of someone else to fam the flames.

This happened to me on the Niteshdw forums. I was in the Star Trek section, holding my geekiness up on both shoulders. And there was a thread about the movie coming out. And people were ripping into the trailer.

Long story short, people were intending not to see the film - bashing it before they'd even seen any footage *from the movie itself*, which as of this writing is still a closely guarded secret. They had no basis for a convincing argument except for a few idiotic details.

1: The Welders. Imagine my dismay when people ragged on the fact that people were welding the hull of the starship Enterprise. How were they supposed to put the fucking thing together? Good intentions? Voodoo? One argument was that "Modern ships aren't welded anymore. They're riveted." Furthermore "Welding weakens metal, making it more likely to tear under extreme conditions." Okay, jackass. Here's the deal. Riveting has been around a lot longer than welding. They have been using the concept of driving a strong stake through the hull to attach it to the frame for a thousand years. Welding is very much a new idea. Seeing as we've only had electricity for welding torches for what, a hundred years? And the equipment necessary to design and create such a tool? Less, maybe 80 years - tops.
And let's get this straight. Welding does weaken metal. But not that much. Welding as a means to warp the metal into a new shape weakens it. Further, riveting may be waterproof, but I guarantee you, it's not airtight. the spaceshuttles have rivets. And the panels are welded to the frame. For air. And security of not having the hull peel off.

2: The typeface of the ship's registry. I seriously thought this was a joke. No one could be... oh, yes they could. I am not even going to go into detail about this one. It just *hurts*.

3: The ship was being built on Earth. They couldn't understand this. The fandom assumed that the Enterprise was built in space at "San Francisco Fleet Yards" in orbit of the Earth. This has never been stated in any episode or film in the franchise. And, to prove that it *was* built on Earth, watch the Original Series, and look for the dedication plaque on the ship's bridge. It reads:

USS ENTERPRISE
STARSHIP CLASS
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF.

It uses the state of California as its reference point. So the Enterprise was built in California. Now... where is California... orbit...ooooorbitOH RIGHT. It's on Earth's Surface! Fancy that.

These are just mere examples of a much greater problem. We as a people are no longer content to solves our differences. We have developped a new brand of cunt-tasticness and douchebaggery for the purpose of making everyone else miserable.

Beyond the kid at school who would poke fun at your shirt or knock your hat off on the playground. He was unrestrained by his parents and was too dumb to realise that he was creating a chainsaw maniac out of the kid he was torturing.
Beyond the mailclerk who tampers with office letters for kicks. He was the kid that never hurt or was hurt by anyone until he was eighteen. Then he snapped.
And beyond the guy who sabotages your attempts to succeed in life. He has a personal agenda that involves him being the bigshot and you being his office rug. Nothing personal. You're just in his way.
I'm talking about someone who does it without a personal or professional reason. He sets himself upon the public with an unscathingly illogical, untempered, mindless assault. Just to get a rise out of people. If people let it go, he's won because that means he can say whatever he wants and no one will punish him for it. If he's chastised, he's won because he knows someone was bothered enough to try and defend themselves. And that's what he wants. He wants to get you angry. He stays just the same time after time. Round after round. You're getting angrier and angrier and your wit begins to fail you. But he doesn't need wit. He just called you a waste of a spot in the game. Are you going to take that? Don't forget; he's enjoying this.

And all the effort we go to ignore them until they "just go away" is for nothing because he knows we're not ignoring him. We're just praying he'll stop. And all the effort we put into shutting them up is wasted on the fact that his purpose is to get us to try to shut him up.

My solution? Go along with it.
UR SCORE SUX.
"Sure it does. But I'm having fun."
HOW CAN U HAVE FUN WHEN UR LOSING LIKE NOOB
"Because you don't have to win to have fun."
LOL UR FUCKIN STUPID
"If that's what helps you sleep."

They get tired of talking to someone who is completely oblivious to their charms. They stop rather quickly. Even if they read this and discover the secret - it's impenetrable. Because he still gets nothing. And you get to torment him for being an embarassment to his race.

LEARN2FLAME NOOBCAKE

TV Screens in Yo' MUDFLAPS!

2008-09-17T15:04:00.000-07:00

I've discovered that either there has been a substantial improvement to my standards in entertainment, or there has been a marked decline in the quality of presentation in film and television.

This revelation came last night, when Peachtree TV in Whereverthefuck, USA, aired Paycheck, the mildly retarded quasi-reality-bending story about the guy who saw his future. The only redeeming quality to the film was the opening scene with the 3D computer screen. I enjoyed that. But the rest of it was menial and inconsequential. Which is sad, since I like John Woo's Hong Kong action films. I sometimes wonder what element of America shittied him up so much.

And if it wasn't enough, Peachtree decided to air the film again - right after an interim programme.

That's right. They showed a unanimously bad movie no fewer times than twice in the same evening. On purpose.

But not before I got to see "Pimp My Ride". It may have been on Peachtree; I wasn't in control of the TV, as you might have guessed. Pimp My Ride, hosted by XZIBIT, a testament to bad rapper names, is one of the big names in reality TV for motorheads.

Let me make one thing clear. I know good filming. I know good acting. This show possesses neither. Every moment on camera is pre-scripted. Every piece of the show is polished to a shine, save for the fact that the faux-improvisational dialogue between the show's mechanics and designers is one-hundred-percent bullshit. It is transparent to the point where they should have all just looked into the camera and smiled. It tastes just like homemade! *smilesmile*

How did I know it was fake-tastic? First, the guys never stuttered or sounded improv'y at all. People who talk in REAL life choose their words on the fly. There are noticeable gaps between sentences. There are the odd Um's and Ah's. It's just what people do. Even the good ones. Second, the cuts between shots give me the impression that the cameras were all in the same place. Meaning, they focused on one person, cut, pivoted the camera to look at another person, then ran the film up again, and cued the rest of the conversation.

This particular episode involved a stripped-down 1994 Toyota T-100. Evidently, the '95 model came with biker shades, a shotgun and a German accent. I know, I know; Austrian. S.T.F.U. please. XZIBIT rolled it into the shop and gathered his posse for some pre-staged improv "What the fuck do we do with this thing?" meeting. I was contemplating turning my brain OFF at this point, because XZIBIT's very presence irritates my bowels. I've been kicking myself ever since for my procrastination. I was punished for not going into glassy eyes and drool-mode when the guy who was to be responsible for the paintwork on the truck uttered the word GLAMOUFLAGE. I thought he was kidding. I really tried to convince myself that -- no, he's serious. Maybe there's some inkling of -- no, it looks like he's taking this seriously. This was a travesty.

Glamour. Camouflage. Two concepts that are almost universally exclusive in the mutual sense. And this EXCUSE for a designer wanted to bring them together in bright, faggy unity. Camo colours are navy green, tan, and a brown, in varying shades and tones. Glamo intended to replace those colours with - and brace yourselves, kiddies - white, black and PURPLE. Yeah. That sound you just heard? The little pop? That was the retard firewall in your brain overloading.

I think they calculated that very carefully to ensure that viewers would more readily accept what was to come. Because another one of these boys, who was placed in charge of, apparently jamming flatscreens onto every surface imaginable, put a TV on the dash. Put a Doppler screen where there was once supposed to be cupholders. Put a GPS on the driver's side. Put a flip-down night vision camera system into the cab. Then, decided that, because the crew was giving the truck's owner an ATV, hooked TV screens on the back behind the seat, and on the front, in front of the handlebars. That's right. TV screens. Where no one riding the ATV will ever see them. And correct me if I'm wrong, but ATVs are designed to go offroad and get down and dirty, no? Twenty bucks says that those screens will go up like a Star Trek computer console during a firefight.

And that's not even it. This bonehead decided that the largest TV set of all had to go on the bed of the pickup - thereby blocking the rear windows. So much for that rearview mirror. Good thing he has that night vision screen, right? What's next, TV screens installed on the Mudflaps? Can we really take any of this even halfseriously?

My standards, my personal preference for quality, does not allow this to stand.

Okay, okay. Maybe my standards are a little skewed. My favourite food is a bacon-cheeseburger made with processed cheese and not real cheddar. My favourite film is the old Dawn of the Dead, and not the new one that's supposed to appeal to my generation. My pastime is drawing with pencil and paper, and not tinkering with Photoshop. I hate emoticons. I hate most of the Internet. And for all intents and purposes, most of the choices of style I have made in the last two decades have been questionable at best. But I think this is fair to say; if I can't say what's good - I at least know what's bad.

It's just plain unfair that perfectly good time and money is being wasted on this kind of cheese material. Bogus in every sense of the word. Uglier with every blink of disbelief. Harder to listen to with each passing sob of torturous agony.

XZIBIT needs to get a real job. Peachtree needs to fall under new management. TV needs to be rescued from the depths of programming hell. There are a lot of high quality shows. Maybe if we weren't so determined to have 5000 channels, we would notice the good material more, and would spare more time for them by axing the garbage.

If you don't agree with me, then - in this case - I reserve the right to call you a worthless slug of the media, and direct you to go back to your MTV before you go into withdrawal.

Not Quite Labour Day, so White is Okay!

2008-08-31T13:14:00.000-07:00

Another attempt in Illustrator, this time with what I guess to be the outer layer of a fine gown, since you can see her legs and her stomach through the fabric. I toyed with putting flowers in her hair, and I might still do that, but for now I just wanted to post it. Total Illustrator time, 11 hours.

Feminism: What Happened?

2008-08-02T15:41:00.000-07:00

I could face being strung up by every woman I've ever met for this, depending on how many people actually read it, and how many people misinterpret what I'm trying to say.

We all know what "playing the card" means. It's the "I'm from a once-oppressed demographic so GIMME GIMME GIMME" card. The gender card. The race card. The disability card. You know, the ones that weren't included in my deck. I'm a white man of basically average mental and physical health and ability. A participant of the computer and technological culture, and born to Christian parents (though I can't blame them for that).

So here I stand, concerned that one thing I say, one word, one phrase, one sentence off-hand meant innocently or at the very least benignly, could be distorted like Rocky Dennis' forehead - and then there I would stand, not only an idiot, but the bad guy.

Every white man knows this feeling. You can't call midgets midgets. Or dwarves. They're "little people" - which is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Little people are little people. Little people don't have disproportionate limbs. Midgets are the ones that have to lean forward to reach into their front pockets. There is a difference - just look at them - between Verne Troyer and Danny DeVito. Verne's a midget. Danny's a little guy.

You can't call Natives Natives. Or Indians. It's "Aboriginals" now. Like anyone does that. Doesn't that sound like there's something wrong with them? It just seems too close to the word Abnormal. And considering what those witless pricks are doing in Caledonia these days, maybe it fits after all.

Then you have your big ones. The black guy that throws a fit at something out of context - not saying every Black is like that, I'm just noting "that guy", the ones that stand out. I'm talking about the one where, if a cop arrests him, he seems to have something to say about racism. How the cop profiled him - which by the way, people who assume all cops are profilers.... that's called profiling too, you ignorant pedantic hypocritical twat - and the guy either gets off the arrest or at least garners notice from the community, at the expense of the good humour of the Police Department.

There's "that guy" from where he is from in Asia, who, when you make a top-of-the-head guess at where he's from, looks at you like you just insulted his Emperor. Hey, Yang Ping Chin, we can't spot the difference, okay? Call it stupidity, but we don't know what to look for. We look at Europeans and say, "look at the pronunciation of the cheekbones, the set of the brow and the eyes. If it's this way, the guy's German. This way, he's Italian..." whereas, while similar features may result in the same distinctions in the Asian human structure, we generally don't have a frame of reference, because we're not Asian! Just as, I couldn't tell apart two Africans. And I don't mean "African-American". I mean "African-African". Bushmen. The ones you can lose track of after sunset. Because the feature of a European face provide little to no marker to set a starting point to say "More equals here, less equals here", I cannot begin to differentiate one regional feature from the next. And it's the same with Asians. I can't tell Chinese from Japanese. I hear shit about "it's all in the eyes" - I don't care. I don't see it. I can't tell Vietnamese from most of the other Asian subgroups. Get over it.

And there's the religious card. Jews who take the name "Hitler" as some kind of Kryptonite shard that sends them into cultural convulsions. Case and point: At work, had this guy who treated his work area like his little kingdom - despite the fact that I hold some rudimentary and non-official brand of seniority. And he's African. So he's got the race card and here's me, making sure I don't do anything that will have him crying racism. Plus, he's homeless - which leads me to assume there's something wrong with his head. *Anyway* - he was arrested for something. Wound up spending some time in lock up. And everyone was pleased. Because - he behaved like a Nazi. That's the word I decided on. He was a Nazi. A Nazi assumed everyone was inferior, when in fact, he was the morally bankrupt and intellectual equivalent of bean-and-chicken vindulu. And this guy assumed we were all retarded and new, when it was the other way around. So on the chart for the shift, where there was space to list items 86'd in the store, I wrote "The Homeless Nazi". I had the greater hatred for him - because while others worked shifts when he worked, it was me who worked *with* him in the same area for 8 hours at a time.

Now one of the managers, apparently, is Jewish. This is the point I'm trying to make; the manager demanded I erase the phrase and then gave me shit because he treats the word "Nazi" the way I treat looking over a high balcony - the way being "Not well". I'm not talking about a guy who was born in 1937. He was young; and that confused me. I don't even know if he was born to Jewish parents, though my guess I suppose is yes.

I'm not trying to disregard atrocity. The Jews were nearly destroyed by World War II. But the Jews of today that remember what that was all like - are either retired or too old to give a shit what anyone says.

Forcing new generations to dwell on things that no one will allow to happen again, at least on that scale, is not healthy for your community. Period.

I at last come to the heart of this topic - the reason I started writing that entry. The gender card.

Women.

I love women. Amiable qualities all around. Determination, spirit, intelligence, compassion, resourcefulness and the coveted maternal instinct (which I am personally envious of. Imagine just instinctively knowing that much about dealing with a human being). All of that wrapped in a beautiful package (most of the time. I won't lie).

But, in the early days of Civilization, men took on the role of protector of the more physically vulnerable woman. This headstrong guardian attitude led to the assumption of authority. Stupid people that think they can protect more people better generally run to the next logical step; they control the people they protect. Okay, not so logical, but in the mind of the man, the staircase doesn't exactly take the direct route - nor does it entirely take you to the top.

And women, being as smart as they were, took a less active public role. What a lot of people don't realize is that women have an unmistakable hold on men, especially men who are in love. Women basically took on the responsibility for making sure that every dumb move by the man looks intelligent - or at the very least, it looks like it has a good chance of succeeding.

Since the 20th century, women's rights have been a serious issue. Slowly men ceded long-withheld rights such at voting and working, though the implications of the independent woman would fail to be accepted by society at large.

So we have the social feminist solution. The proactive feminist who is defiant of chauvinistic or misogynistic behaviour and demands fair treatment of women in the workplace, in public and at home. Women are not a "thing", a toy or an interesting diversion. And to this, I agree. Whole-heartedly.

But...

Like modern ethnic activists when compared to the pioneers who fought racism such as MLK, feminists have badly distorted the message. Too much I hear about women treating men as "pigs" not worth paying attention to because all that comes out of their mouths is "sexist trash". Calling all men sexist is the same as calling all white people "racist". It's presumptuous to the point of being boneheaded.

There was one point where I asked a girl on a date and she faced me, like I was staring at Death itself, and told me that if I expected she was going to treat me to some bimbo fantasy that I needed to get my "sexist retard head checked". Now, in context, I don't think I gave her any reason to think I was sexist, or retarded. Though some say, concerning the latter.... it's not important. I didn't use coy "lines" or call her denigrating things like "babe" or "sweet *thang*". I think I acted like a slightly nervous "I wish it were as easy as it looks on TV" gentleman. Some conversation - I was interested in what she was saying and everything. But - she went on the natural assumption, as most women do - and don't lie, you do - that I only approached her because I thought she was attractive and that I wanted to get into her pants.

Now - to be fair - the reason I approached her is because she was very pretty. The thought of what was underneath that skirt had occurred to me. But for a man not to think about sex is largely impossible - it's been proven by psychologists. And having never really met the girl before, let alone spoken to her or gotten to know her, the only thing that could possibly have brought me over was her looks. I'm not psychic, fer Chrissakes. And I am aware, very much, that if she'd found as much interest in me as I had found in her, something could have happened. That's almost statistical.

This is the modern feminist philosophy - largely and sadly. It seems that women are no longer encouraged to work to be seen as indifferent. Feminists have some kind of agenda to displace men and roadblock men. Think about it. A man and a woman apply for the same job. The man has the better credentials and a more winning attitude, but affirmative action leaves him shit out of luck. Hillary Clinton ran for president, and everyone decided it was fashionable to say they were going to vote for her. "It's about time for a woman to be president," they would say. Here's a newsflash: a woman being President doesn't change anything. We just get to call her a dumb bitch instead of a fucking retard. And the word cockslapper gains a new level of offensiveness.

Thankfully, for every 32 squillion maniac feminist/aspiring world dominatrices, there are a few who believe in what's called "Individualist Feminism". Individualist ideology relies on the belief of the one. Not the One - I don't want to see any comments about Keanu Reeves or Jet Li - I mean the singular woman.

Modern feminism states "I am a woman, and because women like me were treated like gobs of shit for centuries, I refuse to allow the dominating male presence to stop me from achieving my goals."

Radical feminism has become "I am a woman, and women have faced adversity embodied by sexism and incomptence on behalf of the male gender. This makes us better than them, and not only do we *deserve* by default, everything that they are entitled to, we also deserve to be treated in a special, respectful, and careful manner." Which actually leads us back to square one where women were treated like they were made of porcelain and were basically sacred. It's just, in those days, it was done because the men wanted someone fertile and strong to mother his children. These days it's because we don't want to get fired and slapped with a lawsuit.

Individualist feminism is "I am a woman, who is capable of things that other people aren't or are, just less than I am. This gives me an advantage that I can use to achieve my goals." It's not about defeating anyone. It's not about overcoming *men*. It's about overcoming the now-dying preconceptions of the female condition - which just happen to have been perpetuated by *men*.

Please allow me to ensure that there is no mistake: I applaud feminism. The road to equality hasn't run its course just yet, and there are a few more hurdles to come. But run your engine too hard and you simply stall, and by the time you get going again - all your fans will have gone home in shame.

Stefan and Diana:

2008-07-12T00:32:00.000-07:00

Stef, main man. I was so fortunate to meet you through E-rok and I-rok, and was - in so many ways, I can't begin to imagine them all - affected by your outstanding presence. Full of enthusiasm and bearing energy so unbated, so raw and from the heart that there was no secret to the Stefan phenomenon.

You care. Everything you touch, you touch with compassion and dedication. It is that which turns straw to gold.

I owe you thanks. Without your influence, your unique perspective and your overwhelming intelligence and creativity, I would never have found my calling. I would never have fallen for the art form I pursue with the dedication I can only hope makes you proud.

So it is no surprise to me, though I - in jest - say it is hard to believe you just got hitched. This cerebral and down-to-earth woman you stumbled upon has surely received the commitment and obsession she so rightly deserves, and such we have come to expect from the Stefmeister.

Looks like Sarah's met her match.

Diana, if you are reading this, or if Stefan decided to recite this to you, I don't really know much about you, save for this that I learned the moment I saw the two of you together: and that is the unshakeable completion you share with your other half. When we saw you look into one another's eyes, there was no room for misunderstanding. You are two halves of an unstoppable whole. Two stars outshining the dancing night sky, become but one light to everyone who sees you together.

I know. I know. Boring details. Campy poetry. But the cliches of "You are meant to be" and "Made for each other" bear special meaning with you two - and that couldn't be more apparent.

Never did I see you, Stefan, so truly happy. I've seen you psyched; excited; glad and full of joy. But the ceremony brought out in you what I can only describe as peace. Contentment to pursue the life you wish to share with Diana.

Your Aunt Karen said something interesting to me at the hotel.

"You've been friends with them so long," she said to me, "you're like family."

I was touched. Truly. I am proud to be an honourary family to your clan - to share in the events that shape your lives, and to join in the celebration of life and love.

And with this, I honour you. My inspiration and my hero in terms.

"MFA" thanks you.

You are the S-Rok.

Its a Waste of Time if you Didn't Have it to Begin with

2008-06-23T22:39:00.000-07:00

This is something I threw together mildly haphazardly for a college assignment. I'm actually pleased with how it turned out. It took more time to make the TIME title in Illustrator than work on any other element.

Production (minus photography): 4 Hours

The Passing of a Legend

2008-06-22T23:30:00.000-07:00

About a half-hour ago, as I learned, George Carlin died in hospital at the age of 71. Heart Failure. I've been laughing at his jokes for almost 15 years. He's been a staple of modern counter-culture since "Seven Words" hit the airwaves for the first time.

Georgie, you old fuck, we'll miss you.

Went Bolling; Not the Turkey I Expected

2008-06-19T21:59:00.000-07:00

Zack Ward and Dave Foley star in this latest attempt by Uwe Boll to cash in on a videogame franchise; Postal. I was amazed to discover how much I didn't hate it. The production value was surely not all that great, but I can't say with as much conviction as with his other game movies that it looked like shit.

We see new lows in comedy, however - a German's attempt at appealing to the lowest common American denominator. Dave Foley shows off his penis for what I would describe as Far Too Long. On the plus side, the creator of the Postal game and the film's notorious director Boll share a scene designed to appeal to the Boll Haters. It opens with Boll babbling to the public about how he finances his films with Nazi gold, dressed in lederhosen looking like a total goob - then the grandpappy of Postal marches in and tackles Boll to the floor. A gunfight erupts and Boll is shot right in the cash-and-prizes.

It's obvious that Uwe was hoping to make this a movie about the core of what Postal was about. As Postal didn't concretely have a two-hour story line (most of the game was fucking around peeing on people and shooting people with a cat as a silencer), Boll had the luxury of making a movie where Postal Dude goes from mild-mannered Jekyll to the gun-toting Hyde with the Al-Qaeda, the police, and a vigilante group of townsfolk gunning for him.

Here's something I'll admit to you. I watched it in German. I don't know German. It was a DVD-rip from Germany that a Spanish guy wrote subs for. So it's a German dub with Spanish subs - and I speak English. Just English. And I still understood the movie. I had no problem following the events. Just food for thought about the dialogue.

Crucify me for saying this, but I might actually pirate it in English when the American DVD comes out.

What, you think I'd *PAY* for a Boll movie? And incur the looks from the clerks? No thanks. I'd rather download it, knowing that the people offering the torrents just want to satisfy our morbid curiosity. Thank you, Internets.

Owie Bull

2008-06-18T22:26:00.000-07:00

Uwe Boll.

Gamers know the name. It drips like a salivating dog. Saliva of hatred. In fact, as we speak, most gamers are frothing at the mouth at his mention.

The man has systematically begun bankrupting franchises that had the potential to continue to please fans. Think about his video game movies - has any franchise produced a sequel after Boll was finished? Atari quit production on Alone in the Dark 5 while Boll was working on is movie! Bad omen, anyone?

House of the Dead: Suffering from poor vision of the plot, a dizzying array of witless "college co-eds" and their annoying banter while stumbling aimlessly through the film was no treat. Boll's claim that it was just a zombie movie and that audiences shouldn't have "expected Shindler's List" is just rationalization for the fact that he failed to produce a film his target audience was supposed to like. In response to the comment, I direct your attention to George Romero's Dawn of the Dead.

Alone in the Dark: Casting was an issue here, to start. Slater and Reid are not material to play a paranormal investigator and a brilliant scientist. More like a burnt out biker and the chick who gave him the clap. Additionally, Boll trashed a script he claimed had too few car chases - not a good start, Uwe. Poor acting, dull dialogue and cop-out special effects make this little more than a dud - the second now.

BloodRayne: Here we go with the casting. Kristanna Loken is beautiful. As BloodRayne she made me quiver - until she started talking. Hon, listen - you're not out to impress anyone with your grey matter. Show off your tits, kick some ass and keep your mouth shut for as long as possible. As well, Michael Madsen; good God, what a waste. He could have signed to a good movie and made my day. I'll forgive you, Michael - this once. Again - failing to grasp the game's original premise, Boll delivered a film that was BloodRayne in name only. Set in Romania in the 1700s, the picture lacks depth, and fails in every way to wow me as a vampire film, an action or adventure film or even as a horror flick. Particularly as a game movie. Sorry, Uwe, that's three.

Dungeon Seige: The cast, again; ridiculous. Burt Reynolds? I mean, everyone loves Burt Reynolds, and having him star in a game movie is awesome, but... for him to pick this one of them all... I'm sure we'll get a chance to see a film legend in a game movie worthy of his time. But lackluster filming and technical attention, coupled with the dry dialogue and pacing left me seriously disappointed; even for a Boll movie.

Now, we face Postal. Based on a game franchise panned by reviewers for being "disgusting" and praised by others for being "disgusting" - and frankly I agree with the former - Boll sets out to capture everything about Postal that made it so controversial, pack it into a 90 minute box and ship it dripping with blood and hamburger grease.

I won't say it's going to be shit. I won't bash it just yet. Until I've seen it. But I'm not really expecting much this time around. Boll has managed to destroy everything he's touched, and he's not done making films yet. He still has Hunter: The Reckoning and FarCry to do.

All in all, it should be standard Boll fare. I know I shouldn't judge it before I've seen it; it's what I try to live by - and I scold people who are booing the upcoming Star Trek already and they haven't seen even a glimpse - but face it. If I feed you a chicken dinner and you say "it tasted like shit", then I make lasagna and you say "it tasted like more shit", wouldn't it stand to reason that my meatloaf and peas just might taste like shit? I say this with conviction: Uwe Boll is bereft of artistic vision. He is far less interested in the source material than he is with his tax writeoff. It's to the point where game companies are recognizing him by name. Both Blizzard and Konami refused to sell him the rights to make movies based on Metal Gear and Warcraft - their reported answers to him were of alarm, like he had asked them if he could use their children as blood sacrifices to summon the Dark Lord himself. Blizzard said "not to you. Especially not to you." That should be a hint.

We can now set upon the mantle, a shrine to such publicly bad filmmakers, where alone Ed Wood once sat, beside him Uwe Boll. His movies may go down in history after all.

Religious Nutritional Information

2008-06-15T01:38:00.000-07:00

I was just on the home website for the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, a mock religion basically designed to offend every religious majority in the world. The idea is such: in response to legislation in the State of Kansas forcing schools to teach "creationism" as an alternative to evolution, basically a circle jerk because the State wants Christian morals pounded into the kids' head but the law, in a few words, rules out teaching religion outright in public classrooms (and by teaching "Intelligent Design", you circumvent using the word God and still brainwash a generation of otherwise potentially amiable young minds), a letter was sent by Bobby Henderson to the Kansas Board of Education, proscribing an alternate possible creation method, involving a giant spaghetti-and-meatball monster.

It became popular quickly for two reasons. One; it was unavoidably ludicrous. Two; it was poignant and got the message across. Just like Russell's teapot, it illustrates that religion and religious teachings, while in a moral sense are sound and even applaudable, the science of it is best left to the guys in the lab coats who do that for a living.

Try and imagine, explaining to a class why man wasn't created flawlessly. How we were designed by a greater being. Well, what greater being? How did he perfect his design? Did he conduct tests to see if it worked properly? If we were designed in "His image", why do we all look different? If he designed us of free will, then why are there so many deformities and risks in birth? Why is it the women are more frail when they are burdened with childbirth - which makes them even more vulnerable?

Kinda removes the "Intelligent" from Intelligent Design. If God designed people, he needs to go back to school and take basic biology again. If he designed us to look like himself, he's blind and has some real emotional issues. If his intention was for us to create ourselves, that makes him lazy and careless, because he didn't bless us with the intelligence to safely create life on our own. Hell, he made people dumb enough to fall for baseless, proof-exempt religion.

That's not even the half of it. I went to the Hate Mail section of the Church's website, and found a comment posted by a devout Christian, who said that God created mankind blah blah blah but doesn't back up any of his statements with any more than "because Bible/Jesus/God did/said so." He cited the Bible as though he's never read anything else. Yeah, I'm sure Jesus died for your sins.

Listen, God sent his only son to DIE. He unleashed Jesus on people, and we nailed him to a pole for trying to accept God as their saviour.

Also, Jesus must have been a looney-bin. He LET the heathens string his ass up! Would you take the word of a suicidal maniac? No! You wouldn't let someone like that near your trash bins, let alone teach his moral influence to your children!

Yet, the religion is believed widely.

That's not even all of it! A Muslim calling herself "Fatima" proclaims it as her duty to inform "Christian" of the True religion. The True God. Thus, we enter Muslim beliefs and the exalted Quran into the fight.

Ah, the Quran. What a Christian would read if he hated women and bought his 9 year old son an assault rifle for his birthday. Now, I'm not out to shit on religions here. I'm not a racist, or any other negative "ist". But I have questions. And they do need answers. And the "answers" religious folks have aren't suitable.

Why is the sky blue? Because of refracted light. The blue part of the spectrum is what passes through the sky from the sun to our eyes, so we see the blue part and -BOOM- blue sky.

Not, because God willed it so. Not, because it was designed by the True God. That's not an answer. That's a cop out.

Back on topic: this "Fatima", very matter-of-factly, states that all Christians are going to burn in hell. That Jesus was a prophet of the Muslim God, but that his message to the people was skewed over time and became lost, and another prophet had to be sent - thus birthing the Islam. "Fatima" condescendingly provides instructions on how to cleanse your soul with a few quick words and cheerful encouragement in starting your new Islam life - even offering that you don't have to be Arab to love her God. Then she goes on to list all the people that will go to hell, in a categorized list of Religions. She calls it a "short list" but it's a list of all the major religious organizations, neglecting the minor sects of larger aforementioned umbrella faiths. She ends with an uplifting message, "Why keep believeing [sic] in the corrupted version of God's words when there's a new edition?"

Firstly - if you need a "new edition" of your faith - you clearly don't have a grip on what faith is.

Second - Fuck you, Fatima. I hope you read this and froth at the mouth. Your God is no more real than Christian's God. Or Russell's teapot or the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Religion was founded for the purpose of moral guidance and learning how to cope with adversity from day-to-day life. A manner of dealing with concepts like death, family, love and personal values and respect. Religion is profound in that respect that even non-religious families hold weddings and funerals - which are both religious ceremonies. "We are gathered here under the sight of God" ring a bell?

It's intended to add a dimension of comfort to a person's life. And getting into a fight about it because you're more deluded than he is will only make you look like an idiot.

This is the purpose, outright, of the FSM. To demonstrate that believing in something is simply believing in the thing, and not the message. That people are so used to associating belief in God, or A God, that those who don't believe in the same God as the rest of them, or don't believe in any God, are seen as basically criminals - morally bankrupt and disreputable.

I am a man without faith. I am not a criminal, nor do I hunger for debauchery. I live by a code of ethics that mirror the Ten Commandments. I believe that lessons of morality intended by the Bible are honest and generally a good idea to try and live by.

I just don't have to pray to anything or flush all my time away by visiting old scraggly men in church when I do an oopsie. I forgive myself for my error. I make my own amends to those I wrong - because why ask God for forgiveness when it's Bob's wife I nailed in Vegas? I think that apology ought to go to Bob; you kinda owe him one.

There are no "true" religions. Faith is simply the face painted onto your book of morality. The name for your system of life. The label chosen for your ethical standards. No one's going to hell for living by their codes.

Zombie Panic!

2008-06-13T00:34:00.000-07:00

I love zombie films. Even the bad ones, on occasion. But what is it about these so-called directors trying to get rich off of the George Romero films? John Russo started it when he decided that he was better than Romero and did Return of the Living Dead but it worsened. Though Russo's movies were definitely not the kind of zombie film true Romero fans would appreciate - it had the virtue of being a genuinely separate creation. Return of the Living Dead spawned several sequels.

Now we have this influx that's giving me reflux. Amid the half-budget attempts like Dead and Deader, to the artistic anti-creature returnee picture Les Revenants, to the truly needless video game adaptations like Resident Evil and House of the Dead; there

are these half-baked remakes. Someone decided to capitalize on Night of the Living Dead's entrance into the public domain and remake it very recently. Not only did it get terrible reception - but it opened to so few theatres if could never have turned a profit.

But not before Zack Snyder, a director not known for zombie films, tackled Dawn of the Dead, a heroic task indeed. It's a shame the film didn't live up to its namesake.

And this year, Day of the Dead. Steve Miner, I suppose being a new director or at least no one who's done anything big before, must never have seen the original. In Romero's Day of the Dead, the zombies outnumbered the living by 100 000 to one. They had already overrun the world. In Miner's Day, the outbreak was just about to begin. So its more like a new vision on what might have happened the Day before Night of the Living Dead. You know, if Night sucked.

Of this decade's amazing library of zombie films, only a spare few st

and out. Romero's two entries, Land of the Dead, and Diary of the Dead, for their obviously well-received social commentaries and known Romero visual footprint. Les Revenants, called "They Came Back" in America; a film that redefines what the return of the dead could be. And without question, Shaun of the Dead. Shaun opened me to British comedies again, and its richly satirical and unerring vision, as well as its brilliant dialogue and endearing cast kept me in my seat for the entire film, every time I've seen it.

I think that before a studio can greenlight one of these pictures, a fan of zombie films needs to read it. And approve it. Otherwise we'll end up with more sequels to House of the Dead and Resident Evil and Remake of the Dead Part 43.

By the way, I witnessed Don't Mess With The Zohan. It's over the

top, much like Sandler's other films. The only catch is that Sandler stumbles and trips over an Israeli accent, sounding half-French, half-Spanish more often than not. The sex gags with the old women make you laugh while you're in the chair, but if anyone asked me to see it again, I would describe the scenes and agonizing and hard to watch. Though there are a good handful of memorable moments - they don't justify more than one peek. Only for hardcore Sandler fans, I suppose. And non-Middle Easterns, perhaps?

Lastly, I've got a post. I drew it up - it's going to be an upcoming project.

Battle of Pixel Hill

2008-06-09T08:31:00.000-07:00

Looks like Jack Thompson is at war with the videogaming culture once again, this time attacking Penny Arcade for their, let's call it, commentary, concerning the notorious Florida lawyer.
I have never understood his position.
Thompson's crusade against violence and obscenity in the media has not only not stopped such things, he hasn't even slowed it down. When I became aware of him, it was when he began his tirades against the so-called "murder simulators", which supposedly prepare children as thoroughly as possible for brutally killing other people. I don't think Mr Thompson is aware how little a videogame can prepare anyone for doing anything to anyone else.

1: Responsibility

The ESRB places those labels on the videogames to educate the parents on what their child is playing, and what to expect from the titles they buy for them. But somehow, this responsibility has been shunted off of the parents' shoulders, and onto those of the retailers. Now it's the job of the store clerks at Wal-Mart and GameStop to check the ID of people who claim to be old enough to purchase an M-rated game.
When did parents get to hide behind the law when their fucked up kid blows someone's head off? When was it okay to blame the media for their child being a psychopath? If the parent had bothered taking interest in what little bastard was doing with his free time, and noticed that he was surrounding himself with violence on top of violence, perhaps a light would have turned on in their head and they would have realised, "Hey, I think Junior has a little pent-up rage." It's not up to the game developers to make all games kid-friendly. It's not up to retailers to ensure that kids never buy the violent ones. It's the job of the parents. You know, the ones that made the conscious decision to give birth to the little fucker in the first place? Yeah. They're.... *YOUR* children. You keep them in line, stupid.

2: Simulating

Videogames, even the most realistic-looking ones on the market, are no training ground for killing people. You have a controller in your hand that looks and feels nothing like a real weapon, even if you're using the light guns they sell for the rail-shooters. Play your XBOX or your PlayStation until you think you have the hand-eye to go target shooting. You could hold a gun. You could probably fire one - but God only knows what you'll hit. You certainly won't be scoring any headshots.
Does it desensitize children to violence? Well.... it depends on with whom you speak. I've been playing violent games since the 7th grade and my friend introduced me to Resident Evil for the first time. But the sight of real blood or vomit still makes me sick as a dog. I can watch it on TV and see it in games and movies, but in real life, it takes me out. So, believe me, it doesn't desensitize everyone to the same degree.

3: Freedom

To Mr Thompson's dismay, U.S. law includes a little thing called "The First Amendment to the United States Constitution", which states that no law can be made that restrains religion or religious practices as long as they don't interfere with any human rights, and that no law can be passed to abridge a person's right to free speech. Mr Thompson claims that the industry has been hiding behind this amendment when it produces these games.
Really. They kinda have to. Anyone who wants to see their material exposed to the public for consumption and enjoyment would exercise their rights under the Constitution. And any opposition would accuse them of hiding behind those rights. But however you cut it, one thing is clear - the rights are theirs to hide behind. You can't take them away. You can't trim them or even coax them out. Face it, Tommy boy. Face it, Christian community. Face it, moms who want the government to raise their kids for them so they can spend more time watching soap operas and shopping for fifty things you don't need. Violent and profane games are a staple of the gaming diet. People want to make them, and people want to play them. That's why they don't sit on shelves collecting dust. You can't say that because kids *might* be exposed to it, that it should never be seen by anyone. Because there are perfectly sane, normally wired people who aren't inherently violent (comparatively speaking), who just want to let out the day's bottled frustration out on some polygons and pixels.
It's sometimes satisfying to people who have to deal with retards on the highway who got their license by pure chance, to come home and play GTA - get into a car and ram retard traffic into each other. Run down civilians crossing on a red light.

Games are meant to allow people to escape life. Not get ready for crime and brutality.

Mr Thompson - people want to see avatars of you in games being obliterated for your incompetence because, in real life, we know that the law could never exact the proper punishment for your witless crusade against our culture, and that none of us wants to go to jail for killing you. It's not worth it.

What's Old Is New Again

2008-06-06T06:15:00.000-07:00

I am not really a fanboy of anything. I've never bought something the day it came out. I've been to a few midnight showings of movies, but I never would have gone alone; I was invited by someone else to go with them.
I generally wait until I hear some good things until I invest my hard-earned dollars. Such as the new generation of gaming consoles. My rule-of-thumb is 5 games. When there are 5 games for the system that I want to buy, it makes the console worth my money.
I can probably scrape up three, maybe four games for the Wii that look interesting, but it's more of a party system, and I don't really entertain people in my home. The Playstation 3 doesn't have any games worth playing; at least, none that aren't multi-platform. It's far too expensive for it to be worth investing - despite that nifty little Blu-ray player. Frankly, DVDs haven't lost their usefulness yet, so I don't want to dump money into an unnecessarily preemptive advance in technology. Blu-ray as a storage format? I'm on board. As a movie disc? Not ready for it.
Now the XBOX360 is a conundrum. Lost Planet, GTAIV, Crackdown, Dead Rising, and the Burnout games. There's 5. I'd play them. I like them. But GTAIV is the only one I'd really *buy*. The others are just really good rentals. I think Lost Planet is 25 bucks by now, so I might buy that one. But it felt still too soon, but I bought the XBOX anyway. Did I fall onto a bandwagon? I suppose we'll see.

In the meantime, as promised, I've begun to upload the stuff I've been working on. This little gem is something I composed in Illustrator CS3 in approximately 7 hours over the course of a week. The person is celebrity Keri Russell. I enjoyed working with Illustrator, despite my evident lack of experience. I hope to create more with the program.

A Lofty Introduction

2008-06-01T08:50:00.000-07:00

I'm not the kind of guy who can claim to think straight all the time. Not the kind of person to make perfectly sound decisions. Not well-known for grace under fire. I might fail where some would heroically succeed.
I try to get by, from day to day. I just think about what I have to do now - not what it down the road tomorrow, or next week, or when I graduate. None of that.
Am I a pessimist? Mmm, sometimes, when the situation warrants. Am I self-destructive? I wouldn't say so, but I've heard evidence that supports the contrary. Am I emo? No. Absolutely not. Fuck no. Artists have been known to be political, pessimistic or sadistic, self-destructive emo douchebags with more message than material. But - here's the great thing.
I'm not a fucking artist. I'm a designer. A cartoonist. I don't give a shit about abstract or interpretive art. It's the best of both worlds. I don't bore normal people with random shapes and malformed hunks of clay that, if it were alive, would be shot to save it from a life of having to be fed by a tube in the throat. And, I get to play with pencils and paint and Photoshop and stuff.
When I want to create something that identifies with a social element; when I want to indulge myself and the public in this "social commentary" and say something really poignant and truly-held about the time and world we live in, I don't have to worry about dumb things like "subtlety" or adapting my work to speak to future generations.
Okay. It's sounds like I'm being really harsh to artists. But I'm not... really. Some artists are normal... sometimes. Eccentric mostly. But not freaks. I just happen to be a step down from eccentric. And when it comes to my work, I won't guard it like a squirrel with a mouthful of nuts until it's done because it simply *MUST* be perfect before it goes on display.
My friend, "Oolau", opened my brain to the idea of starting a blog, and I thought it would be a decent way of, not only putting my thoughts and rants and ideas and rants into one tidy little place with a bow on top, but to display my work in the hopes that someone will see it, notice it, show it to a friend, a co-worker, whatever. I don't have a whole lot ready to publish right away - as a matter of fact I have no pieces to add to this post, but I will start putting the contents of my skull - all the creative comings-out, as soon as I can. I do want people to see what I am.

It's not enough to show what you do, or what you look like. Who you are, what you mean. There's a world in a person, if you can read their thoughts.