Question: What’s it gotta be like to be one of the Bush daughters, not being allowed to like the new Green Day album because it makes fun of daddy?
I’m looking across my room at a stack of DVD’s, particularly all of my Japanese animation, is about ready to fall over on to the spot where my laptop generally sits. A great pile of Robotech (the complete series), Evangelion, Appleseed, Ghost in the Shell (movies only, no TV show for me, thank you), and a couple of others, in a stack at least two feet tall and listing several degrees off-center.
I’ve probably got too many DVD’s. I’ve got DVD’s I haven’t even watched yet: The Life Aquatic, Sideways, Confidence, Gilmore Girls (seasons one and two; and I’m going to justify that by saying Lauren Graham is wicked hot), and probably half a dozen others. It took me two weeks to get around to watching Cursed, but I think that was pretty much because I was trying to think of all the ways it wouldn’t live up to my expectations, because I have this theory: If you think a movie’s going to suck bad enough, you’ll never be disappointed.
With regard to Cursed, I am reminded of a quote by Albert Einstein: “Not only is the universe stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine.” That said, Cursed defies description. I can attempt to say that the movie is an abomination the likes of which are rarely seen from Hollywood. “Is it, in fact, unfair to criticize a formerly great artist for his latter day musical sins? Is it better to burn out than to fade away?” I honestly want to know how it is that this movie got the greenlight from Dimension, other than perhaps the explanation the the Weinsteins were on the way out and probably looking to sink Disney under a mighty mountain of crap. As much as I enjoyed the first two Scream films (the second more than the first, mind you), I simply don’t understand ... pretty much anything about how the film ended up the way it did.
Had to work this morning at 5:45, pushing carts until 8:00. God, that sucked. What the hell is wrong with you people, that you go out shopping on Black Friday at five in the morning or earlier? I actually watched grown men run screaming to the electronics section, like Vikings about to pillage an entire countryside. Apparently, while I wasn’t looking, there was a fistfight over an Xbox 360. I don’t know what the outcome of that one was, although I can tell you two things: Anyone who uses an Xbox 360 as a bludgeoning tool will win that contest, because that thing’s fucking heavy; and ... well, I had something else, but now I’ve lost it. It probably had something to do with the obscene rate of Xbox 360’s overheating, which will make for a very happy Hannukwanzaamas (trademark pending) for a lot of kids, since it’ll take Microsoft 10 days or so to get the machine fixed at a retail establishment, because it’s not like you’re going to be able to take it back to the store and say, “This is defective, I want a new one,” because the store’s not going to have one to give you.
Well. I’m going to read The Truth (with jokes) by Al Franken for a while, prior to going back to bed to work in ten hours. I’m not sure whether they’re going to make me cut my overtime tomorrow or not, but hopefully nobody noticed in all of the Hannukwanzaamas carnage. Tell your friends about this new multi-denominational holiday. It’s gonna be a thing, sort of like lemon-law dating.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Hitchin' A Ride
I've been listening to a lot of Green Day since I bought their new CD/DVD, Bullet in a Bible, package on Tuesday. I probably wouldn't have ever gone back to listening to Green Day (as I haven't for about the entirety of the ten years since Dookie) if not for the fact that American Idiot is such a brilliant album. If you're George Bush or a staunch supporter, then I'm sure you don't agree with me.
From Friday's Congressional Minutes:
No, it was California Rep. Duncan Hunter, a Republican from the 52nd district, near San Diego. In other words, it was a fucking stunt. The Republicans concoct this plan, here, to get the Democrats to look like they're supporting the war by putting forth the most goddamn ridiculously worded resolution the possibly could. According to the Washington Post:
I think we should be the last country to teach Iraq democracy. We're awful at it. If you read the congressional minutes, you'll see that the majority of the actions these guys go through from day to day are tantamount to political masturbation. Here, read what happened during the last day in the House of Representatives. It's crap; complete and utter fucking garbage. These guys spend time working on laws to help people like I spend time working on my screenplay.
There are things that they work on every year in Congress that I think should just be a given. They hammer out numbers and haggle over how much money goes to this or that, and they do it with everything. There are some things that shouldn't be argued or haggled, they should just give it an absurdly high number and then just recoup what's left at the end of the year and roll it forward for the next year. I think health care for veterans should be like that. I think veterans should get the same health-care plan that members of Congress get, or vice-versa. I think that if a congressman had to go through the bullshit that a veteran has to go through for health care, they'd probably pull out their checkbooks and kick another ten or twenty billion dollars into the program.
But then again, I'm a liberal. I'm a Democrat in the heart of Denny Hastert's district, which is to say that my opinion really doesn't matter around here. But, free speech is still in operation, at least until the new Supreme Court reinterprets "free" as meaning, "without charge," so I'm perfectly within my rights to say, Republicans: That stunt you pulled today was bullshit, and I think the people who concocted it, and the people who went along with it, and the people who profited politically from it should rot in fucking Hell, you goddamn cocksuckers.
Was that too blunt?
AIM: therbmcc71
From Friday's Congressional Minutes:
11:31 P.M. -So, you'd think that it was a Democrat who brought up House Resolution 571, right? Seeing how they're the ones who are always talking about the war, and how the President really has to have an exit strategy for someone other than Harriet Miers (yes, she's going to be a joke in twenty years, just like Bork).
Mr. Shuster asked unanimous consent to discharge from committee and consider.
Considered by unanimous consent.
H. Res. 571:
expressing the sense of the House of Representatives that the deployment of United States forces in Iraq be terminated immediately
Motion to reconsider laid on the table Agreed to without objection.
On agreeing to the resolution Failed by recorded vote: 3 - 403, 6 Present (Roll no. 608).
No, it was California Rep. Duncan Hunter, a Republican from the 52nd district, near San Diego. In other words, it was a fucking stunt. The Republicans concoct this plan, here, to get the Democrats to look like they're supporting the war by putting forth the most goddamn ridiculously worded resolution the possibly could. According to the Washington Post:
Armed Services Committee Chairman Duncan Hunter (R-Calif.) drafted a simpler resolution calling for an immediate withdrawal of troops, saying it was a fair interpretation of Murtha's intent. Members were heatedly debating a procedural rule concerning the Hunter resolution when Rep. Jean Schmidt (R-Ohio) was recognized at 5:20 p.m. Schmidt won a special election in August, defeating Iraq war veteran Paul Hackett, and is so new to Congress that some colleagues do not know her name.And then it got ugly. For the record, she retracted her statement from the Congressional Record after ... well, to call it a madhouse wouldn't just be a clever pun. Here's the play-by-play, also from the Washington Post:
She told colleagues that "a few minutes ago I received a call from Colonel Danny Bubp," an Ohio legislator and Marine Corps Reserve officer. "He asked me to send Congress a message: Stay the course. He also asked me to send Congressman Murtha a message: that cowards cut and run, Marines never do."
Dozens of Democrats erupted at once, pointing angrily at Schmidt and shouting repeatedly, "Take her words down" -- the House term for retracting a statement. For a moment Schmidt tried to keep speaking, but the uproar continued and several GOP colleagues surrounded her as she sat down, looking slightly dazed. Presiding officer Mike Simpson (R-Idaho) gaveled in vain for order as Democrats continued shouting for Schmidt to take back her words. Rep. Martin T. Meehan (D-Mass.) yelled "You guys are pathetic!" from the far end of the Democratic section to the GOP side.No shit, one of our guys charged the other side, like it was going to erupt into violence, like the 'Vince McMahon's X-SPAN' channel from a 2001 issue of The Onion, complete with bone-crunching political coverage. For those of you who don't pay as much attention as I do, congressman Murtha said earlier in the week that we should bring home the troops "at the earliest practicable date." And it's not like the guy's a pansy or anything, seeing how he got two purple hearts as a Marine in Korea and Vietnam.
Just as matters seemed to calm a bit, Rep. Harold E. Ford Jr. (D-Tenn.) suddenly charged across the aisle to the GOP seats, jabbing his finger furiously at a small group of GOP members and shouting, "Say Murtha's name!" Rep. David R. Obey (D-Wis.), who had led the chants for striking Schmidt's comments, gently guided Ford by the arm back to the minority party's side.
At 5:31, when order was finally restored, Schmidt rose again and said softly, "My words were not directed at any member of the House." She asked that they "be withdrawn" from the record.
I think we should be the last country to teach Iraq democracy. We're awful at it. If you read the congressional minutes, you'll see that the majority of the actions these guys go through from day to day are tantamount to political masturbation. Here, read what happened during the last day in the House of Representatives. It's crap; complete and utter fucking garbage. These guys spend time working on laws to help people like I spend time working on my screenplay.
There are things that they work on every year in Congress that I think should just be a given. They hammer out numbers and haggle over how much money goes to this or that, and they do it with everything. There are some things that shouldn't be argued or haggled, they should just give it an absurdly high number and then just recoup what's left at the end of the year and roll it forward for the next year. I think health care for veterans should be like that. I think veterans should get the same health-care plan that members of Congress get, or vice-versa. I think that if a congressman had to go through the bullshit that a veteran has to go through for health care, they'd probably pull out their checkbooks and kick another ten or twenty billion dollars into the program.
But then again, I'm a liberal. I'm a Democrat in the heart of Denny Hastert's district, which is to say that my opinion really doesn't matter around here. But, free speech is still in operation, at least until the new Supreme Court reinterprets "free" as meaning, "without charge," so I'm perfectly within my rights to say, Republicans: That stunt you pulled today was bullshit, and I think the people who concocted it, and the people who went along with it, and the people who profited politically from it should rot in fucking Hell, you goddamn cocksuckers.
Was that too blunt?
AIM: therbmcc71
Friday, November 04, 2005
The Kids Aren't Alright
Because I was asked for help with a persuasive essay on this very topic, I have decided to write this, despite the fact that my statements on such went pretty much completely ignored.
When our children turn on the television, it's bad enough that they have to sit through the complete and utter garbage that's shoveled up to us on a nightly basis by the networks, as though they feel the overwhelming need to fulfill a sacred prophecy made many years ago by Newton Minnow; that one day all of America will turn on their televisions and realize that it's turned into a vast wasteland of media-mung. However, that our children are less than entertained by the drek that is served up to them by producers isn't enough: Their poor eyes are assaulted by depraved (sexually or otherwise) advertisements for all manner of products, from videogames to prophylactics to fast-food.
But you know what? Fuck 'em. (<----- that is my thesis statement, by the way)
Businesses have to advertise to make their way in this world. It's a simple fact. Whether they're advertising in the yellow pages or during the latest episode of Lost, the fact remains that they have to compete with other companies in their fields, and they have to carve out their niche by differentiating themselves from other products. To not advertise is to put all of your future customers in the hands of a word-of-mouth campaign, praying that at least some people who bought your product are so enthused by it that they will say to their friends, "I can't believe you're still using Product B, because Product A is so much better." Therefore, companies have to advertise in the media.
That there are companies out there whose markets are less than family-friendly is a fact. The people who make KY Jelly very likely get complaints for advertising prior to the end of The Tonight Show, courtesy of tremendously moral and law-abiding Americans who are without sin and can cast stones until the end of time, and -might I add- have no problems with lubrication and therefore would never have need of KY Jelly, therefore believing such advertisement to be a collective waste of their time, thus necessitating part of their community effort to end the visual assault that KY Jelly has put upon their children, and the children of people they don't know, but are equally at risk of having their minds sullied by such grotesque advertisements.
However, there are people who watch television, quite possibly even shows on ABC's "TGIF" lineup, who may be in need of such products as KY Jelly. In fact, statistically speaking, considering the number of families that potentially watch those shows, it's damn near likely that a large enough percentage of the audience may need such services. And, to take that statistic further, some of them may not know what brand to buy. Therefore, the KY Jelly people have a perfect opportunity to pander to an audience that's in need of their products, much like Republicans advertising on the O'Reilly factor. It's an audience that just won't say no.
So, by this rationale, the advertisers are justified in hawking their wares in any media, provided there are people listening to, reading or watching that media who may be interested in the product. To say that the KY Jelly people can't advertise during an episode of Hope & Faith is as laughable as saying that Tampax can't advertise during an episode of WWE Smackdown, because it might freak out or offend some guys who aren't comfortable with the notion of a woman's monthly cycle.
The fact is, to get people's attention, you have to dazzle them, or in some fashion set yourself apart from the competition. So, if that means that your boner-drug has to be fronted by Mike Ditka throwing a football through a tire (in what is probably the least subtle analogy they could possibly have come up with), so be it, because the alternative is showing a guy taking the drug and then engaging in graphic hardcore sex.
Which brings me to the final party involved in all of this: The Network. A television network has the right to, barring political laws involving equal-time, tell an advertiser that the network will not accept the advertiser's money, and that the network will take less money to run an advertisement from a company with a less-controversial commercial. At the same time, the network can accept that controversial advertisement and attempt to weather the storm from Brent Bozell and his Focus On The Family army (who will now attempt to get my sponsors to stop advertising on my site, despite the fact that I don't have any).
In the end, it comes down to money and necessity. The television is a sacred temple in the family home, and parents feel that there are some hours that are sacrosanct and must not be invaded by advertisements for products that might cause their children to ask questions that the parents are not prepared to answer until such time as the children are out of college. However, the networks need money, so the advertisers fit that bill. The advertisers need consumers, so they're married to the media by that respect. The consumer needs the media for the purposes of entertainment. If any one of those parties doesn't like what another one is doing, that party is within rights to say no.
It's that simple, and so it all comes back down to my thesis statement: Fuck 'em.
Time elapsed: Thirty-three minutes.
AIM: therbmcc71
When our children turn on the television, it's bad enough that they have to sit through the complete and utter garbage that's shoveled up to us on a nightly basis by the networks, as though they feel the overwhelming need to fulfill a sacred prophecy made many years ago by Newton Minnow; that one day all of America will turn on their televisions and realize that it's turned into a vast wasteland of media-mung. However, that our children are less than entertained by the drek that is served up to them by producers isn't enough: Their poor eyes are assaulted by depraved (sexually or otherwise) advertisements for all manner of products, from videogames to prophylactics to fast-food.
But you know what? Fuck 'em. (<----- that is my thesis statement, by the way)
Businesses have to advertise to make their way in this world. It's a simple fact. Whether they're advertising in the yellow pages or during the latest episode of Lost, the fact remains that they have to compete with other companies in their fields, and they have to carve out their niche by differentiating themselves from other products. To not advertise is to put all of your future customers in the hands of a word-of-mouth campaign, praying that at least some people who bought your product are so enthused by it that they will say to their friends, "I can't believe you're still using Product B, because Product A is so much better." Therefore, companies have to advertise in the media.
That there are companies out there whose markets are less than family-friendly is a fact. The people who make KY Jelly very likely get complaints for advertising prior to the end of The Tonight Show, courtesy of tremendously moral and law-abiding Americans who are without sin and can cast stones until the end of time, and -might I add- have no problems with lubrication and therefore would never have need of KY Jelly, therefore believing such advertisement to be a collective waste of their time, thus necessitating part of their community effort to end the visual assault that KY Jelly has put upon their children, and the children of people they don't know, but are equally at risk of having their minds sullied by such grotesque advertisements.
However, there are people who watch television, quite possibly even shows on ABC's "TGIF" lineup, who may be in need of such products as KY Jelly. In fact, statistically speaking, considering the number of families that potentially watch those shows, it's damn near likely that a large enough percentage of the audience may need such services. And, to take that statistic further, some of them may not know what brand to buy. Therefore, the KY Jelly people have a perfect opportunity to pander to an audience that's in need of their products, much like Republicans advertising on the O'Reilly factor. It's an audience that just won't say no.
So, by this rationale, the advertisers are justified in hawking their wares in any media, provided there are people listening to, reading or watching that media who may be interested in the product. To say that the KY Jelly people can't advertise during an episode of Hope & Faith is as laughable as saying that Tampax can't advertise during an episode of WWE Smackdown, because it might freak out or offend some guys who aren't comfortable with the notion of a woman's monthly cycle.
The fact is, to get people's attention, you have to dazzle them, or in some fashion set yourself apart from the competition. So, if that means that your boner-drug has to be fronted by Mike Ditka throwing a football through a tire (in what is probably the least subtle analogy they could possibly have come up with), so be it, because the alternative is showing a guy taking the drug and then engaging in graphic hardcore sex.
Which brings me to the final party involved in all of this: The Network. A television network has the right to, barring political laws involving equal-time, tell an advertiser that the network will not accept the advertiser's money, and that the network will take less money to run an advertisement from a company with a less-controversial commercial. At the same time, the network can accept that controversial advertisement and attempt to weather the storm from Brent Bozell and his Focus On The Family army (who will now attempt to get my sponsors to stop advertising on my site, despite the fact that I don't have any).
In the end, it comes down to money and necessity. The television is a sacred temple in the family home, and parents feel that there are some hours that are sacrosanct and must not be invaded by advertisements for products that might cause their children to ask questions that the parents are not prepared to answer until such time as the children are out of college. However, the networks need money, so the advertisers fit that bill. The advertisers need consumers, so they're married to the media by that respect. The consumer needs the media for the purposes of entertainment. If any one of those parties doesn't like what another one is doing, that party is within rights to say no.
It's that simple, and so it all comes back down to my thesis statement: Fuck 'em.
Time elapsed: Thirty-three minutes.
AIM: therbmcc71
Monday, October 31, 2005
The Boatman's Call
I remember seeing Titanic with my ex-girlfriend when it came out in the theaters in December of 1997. I think we saw it on either opening night or the night after, and the print was nothing short of pristine. It was simply the finest, most utterly scratch-free print I'd ever seen, which made it easy to get lost in the spectacle of the film. Unfortunately, the first half of the film had to do with that silly love-triangle between Billy Zane, Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet only managed to bore the shit out of me.
However, the wonders of DVD allow me to start the film at any point I want, and so I start watching, yes, when Kate Winslet takes her clothes off. See, this way, I skip the whole love-story thing and end up starting the movie with boobs and the rest is the greatest disaster-film in history. I mean, despite how much I loathe having to sit through the first third of the film, I won't hesitate for a moment to say that James (remember when people called him Jim?) Cameron put together one of the greatest motion pictures of all time. I mean, it won eleven Academy Awards, and I'd say it deserved ten of them; 1997's Best Picture should have gone to L.A. Confidential.
The new three-disc DVD features what is probably the best video transfer I've ever seen in my life, and I think that's probably got something to do with the fact that -for the first time in about seven years- I'm actually enjoying watching the movie. I mean, I had entirely forgotten the sheer sense of scale the final act has, like the size of people in the water compared to the massive size of the boat screws. Really, I'm getting at the point that the whole movie can be summed up for me in four words:
Boobs and special effects.
I mean, that's all any guy really needs to proclaim a motion picture to be really great. I'd have proclaimed Pearl Harbor to be the greatest film of all time if ... well, bad example. Sure, Kate Beckinsdale is really hot, but there's just something about that particular character... now Underworld Kate Beckinsdale or Van Helsing Kate Beckinsdale... even Serendipity Kate... well, you get the idea.
Now, I've always found Kate Winslet to be pretty hot, too. I mean, it doesn't really get much better (and I said 'much better' because I know what some of you guys know, too) than she was in Titanic, but I have to say that she's also pretty hot in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. A little crazy, certainly, but still wicked hot.
So that's my best explanation as to why that Crazy Asian likes the movie so much.
Now, I still maintain that I hate the denouement of the film. That very last piece of the movie where Gloria Stuart drops the diamond in the water. Now, if I was James Cameron, I'd have had Bill Paxton show up on the deck of the boat right before she drops it and...
EXT. BOAT - NIGHT
GLORIA STUART is standing on the afterdeck of the giant submarine-carrying boat. She holds the necklace, with the fucking giant blue diamond, in her hand and steps up on to one of the restraining bars. She holds the diamond over the water.
BILL PAXTON appears from out of nowhere about twenty feet behind her, holding a pistol.
Gloria Stuart pulls her gun, but before she can fire, Bill Paxton fires several rounds into her elderly body. The necklace flies through the air as she falls overboard. Paxton catches the diamond in the air, and blue light shines all around him, like a videogame character receiving the ultimate power-up.
Okay, I'm sorry, I just got carried away on that one. Anyway, I'm gonna go before I start rewriting the entire script from scratch.
AIM: therbmcc71
However, the wonders of DVD allow me to start the film at any point I want, and so I start watching, yes, when Kate Winslet takes her clothes off. See, this way, I skip the whole love-story thing and end up starting the movie with boobs and the rest is the greatest disaster-film in history. I mean, despite how much I loathe having to sit through the first third of the film, I won't hesitate for a moment to say that James (remember when people called him Jim?) Cameron put together one of the greatest motion pictures of all time. I mean, it won eleven Academy Awards, and I'd say it deserved ten of them; 1997's Best Picture should have gone to L.A. Confidential.
The new three-disc DVD features what is probably the best video transfer I've ever seen in my life, and I think that's probably got something to do with the fact that -for the first time in about seven years- I'm actually enjoying watching the movie. I mean, I had entirely forgotten the sheer sense of scale the final act has, like the size of people in the water compared to the massive size of the boat screws. Really, I'm getting at the point that the whole movie can be summed up for me in four words:
Boobs and special effects.
I mean, that's all any guy really needs to proclaim a motion picture to be really great. I'd have proclaimed Pearl Harbor to be the greatest film of all time if ... well, bad example. Sure, Kate Beckinsdale is really hot, but there's just something about that particular character... now Underworld Kate Beckinsdale or Van Helsing Kate Beckinsdale... even Serendipity Kate... well, you get the idea.
Now, I've always found Kate Winslet to be pretty hot, too. I mean, it doesn't really get much better (and I said 'much better' because I know what some of you guys know, too) than she was in Titanic, but I have to say that she's also pretty hot in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. A little crazy, certainly, but still wicked hot.
So that's my best explanation as to why that Crazy Asian likes the movie so much.
Now, I still maintain that I hate the denouement of the film. That very last piece of the movie where Gloria Stuart drops the diamond in the water. Now, if I was James Cameron, I'd have had Bill Paxton show up on the deck of the boat right before she drops it and...
EXT. BOAT - NIGHT
GLORIA STUART is standing on the afterdeck of the giant submarine-carrying boat. She holds the necklace, with the fucking giant blue diamond, in her hand and steps up on to one of the restraining bars. She holds the diamond over the water.
GLORIA STUART
Goodbye, Leonardo. Your pixie-style hair and non-existent muscles will now make an entire generation of teenage girls swoon.
BILL PAXTON appears from out of nowhere about twenty feet behind her, holding a pistol.
BILL PAXTONI knew it! I knew you were holding out on me, you bitch!
Gloria Stuart pulls her gun, but before she can fire, Bill Paxton fires several rounds into her elderly body. The necklace flies through the air as she falls overboard. Paxton catches the diamond in the air, and blue light shines all around him, like a videogame character receiving the ultimate power-up.
VOICEOVER
(basso profundo)
QUAD-DAMAGE!!!
Okay, I'm sorry, I just got carried away on that one. Anyway, I'm gonna go before I start rewriting the entire script from scratch.
AIM: therbmcc71
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Sultans of Swing
Virgin Radio UK has a thing for Dire Straits, because I'm listening to "Sultans of Swing" right now, and last night they were playing "Romeo and Juliet." Maybe it's just the overnight guy, I don't know. In any case, it's a hell of a lot better than anything you're going to get from the non-college American airwaves, and generally better than most of the streamed internet stations out there.
FEAR is still one of the best games I've ever played on the PC, in the shooter genre or not. I've yet to finish it, as work, sleep, and close examination of the game environments prevent me from whipping through it as quickly as I otherwise would. The 'VOSS' mousepads were a nice little Easter egg, so thanks, Chris. I also thoroughly enjoyed the solitary red stapler in one of the cubicles and a Chochki's phone number on a post-it note. That's right, if you've been playing FEAR and you didn't notice this stuff, you're probably the type who inexplicably liked Half-Life 2 better.
Civilization IV is scheduled to ship tomorrow, which means it should arrive at your finer gaming stores (EB Games, Gamestop, anyone who gets their deliveries via FedEx) on Tuesday, and Wednesday or Thursday for stores like Best Buy or Target (due to their centralized distribution networks). I watched some video from the game, and it looks considerably better than Civilization III, though it's a tall order for it to beat Alpha Centauri as my personal favorite in the series.
The release of the Xbox 360 is about a month away, and ... yeah, I'm not counting the days. All of the new graphics processors, CPU cores, RAM, and ... yeah, that's about all it's got on the current Xbox, because it's still launching with a regular non-HD DVD player. Oh, the controller's had the black and white buttons moved to the shoulder-position, but that doesn't change the fact that Madden 2006 on the 360 will still be fucking Madden.
Speaking of Madden, I'd just like to state for the record that the only non-licensed, non-sequel that Electronic Arts released for the PC within the last twelve months is Armies of Exigo. And people wonder why I think EA and all of their products blow. Hell, Armies of Exigo wasn't that good, but at least it didn't have eight sequels, each of which was only marginally better than the previous. In fact, I read one quote from a kid's father today, and the guy was talking about Madden 2006, and he said, "If not for free agency, I don't think these games would sell nearly as well." That's right, it's graphics and rosters, and that's it, and yet people buy the games year after year after year.
Sony is planning to sell between 2.5 and 3 million PSP's in North America over the course of the holiday season, and the company claims to have already sold 2.3 million in the region. I actually don't personally know anyone with a PSP, and so I can't see how it is that one person out of every hundred in the United States has one, let alone getting that number to one in fifty by January. Who knows, maybe it's really fucking popular in Canada, and that just throws everything off.
I watched the show Game Head on Spike (the channel, not the Buffy character, you sicko) last night, and I have to say that it's easily one of the most dreadful hours of television in the history of man. Hell, it might have been a half-hour, but I'll never know because it was as though time had stopped. I now know the type of suffering Malcolm McDowell went through in A Clockwork Orange when his eyes were clipped open, because I really like videogames, but this show was only peripherally about videogames; it was like one extremely long advertisement for two "rock" bands (in quotes because they suck and don't warrant recalling their names), only occasionally breaking up the hellish monotony of asking what a drummer thinks of Nintendogs or some such thing by saying some new game was really great. In fact, every game was really great. It wasn't even like watching G4, where they occasionally say a game sucks (their Aquaman review stands out as a high-water mark of critical journalism). I hated, hated, hated that show. Do not watch it, ever.
And in internet news, one of my friends has started up a blog, and you can (and should) read it at pantyfactory.blogspot.com
In any case, I'm going to go now and listen to my friend's radio show. More than likely while I'm doing so, I'll start writing up an Alan Greenspan-esque musing on the state of inflation in World of Warcraft for no other reason than because I can. Sure, there's about eight billion more important things I could write about, but this one requires virtually no brain-power. And then there's the little sub-article about how prices on certain items have fallen through the floor, most notably Swiftness Potions. Yeah, never mind, because you don't play it.
AIM: therbmcc71
FEAR is still one of the best games I've ever played on the PC, in the shooter genre or not. I've yet to finish it, as work, sleep, and close examination of the game environments prevent me from whipping through it as quickly as I otherwise would. The 'VOSS' mousepads were a nice little Easter egg, so thanks, Chris. I also thoroughly enjoyed the solitary red stapler in one of the cubicles and a Chochki's phone number on a post-it note. That's right, if you've been playing FEAR and you didn't notice this stuff, you're probably the type who inexplicably liked Half-Life 2 better.
Civilization IV is scheduled to ship tomorrow, which means it should arrive at your finer gaming stores (EB Games, Gamestop, anyone who gets their deliveries via FedEx) on Tuesday, and Wednesday or Thursday for stores like Best Buy or Target (due to their centralized distribution networks). I watched some video from the game, and it looks considerably better than Civilization III, though it's a tall order for it to beat Alpha Centauri as my personal favorite in the series.
The release of the Xbox 360 is about a month away, and ... yeah, I'm not counting the days. All of the new graphics processors, CPU cores, RAM, and ... yeah, that's about all it's got on the current Xbox, because it's still launching with a regular non-HD DVD player. Oh, the controller's had the black and white buttons moved to the shoulder-position, but that doesn't change the fact that Madden 2006 on the 360 will still be fucking Madden.
Speaking of Madden, I'd just like to state for the record that the only non-licensed, non-sequel that Electronic Arts released for the PC within the last twelve months is Armies of Exigo. And people wonder why I think EA and all of their products blow. Hell, Armies of Exigo wasn't that good, but at least it didn't have eight sequels, each of which was only marginally better than the previous. In fact, I read one quote from a kid's father today, and the guy was talking about Madden 2006, and he said, "If not for free agency, I don't think these games would sell nearly as well." That's right, it's graphics and rosters, and that's it, and yet people buy the games year after year after year.
Sony is planning to sell between 2.5 and 3 million PSP's in North America over the course of the holiday season, and the company claims to have already sold 2.3 million in the region. I actually don't personally know anyone with a PSP, and so I can't see how it is that one person out of every hundred in the United States has one, let alone getting that number to one in fifty by January. Who knows, maybe it's really fucking popular in Canada, and that just throws everything off.
I watched the show Game Head on Spike (the channel, not the Buffy character, you sicko) last night, and I have to say that it's easily one of the most dreadful hours of television in the history of man. Hell, it might have been a half-hour, but I'll never know because it was as though time had stopped. I now know the type of suffering Malcolm McDowell went through in A Clockwork Orange when his eyes were clipped open, because I really like videogames, but this show was only peripherally about videogames; it was like one extremely long advertisement for two "rock" bands (in quotes because they suck and don't warrant recalling their names), only occasionally breaking up the hellish monotony of asking what a drummer thinks of Nintendogs or some such thing by saying some new game was really great. In fact, every game was really great. It wasn't even like watching G4, where they occasionally say a game sucks (their Aquaman review stands out as a high-water mark of critical journalism). I hated, hated, hated that show. Do not watch it, ever.
And in internet news, one of my friends has started up a blog, and you can (and should) read it at pantyfactory.blogspot.com
In any case, I'm going to go now and listen to my friend's radio show. More than likely while I'm doing so, I'll start writing up an Alan Greenspan-esque musing on the state of inflation in World of Warcraft for no other reason than because I can. Sure, there's about eight billion more important things I could write about, but this one requires virtually no brain-power. And then there's the little sub-article about how prices on certain items have fallen through the floor, most notably Swiftness Potions. Yeah, never mind, because you don't play it.
AIM: therbmcc71
Saturday, October 22, 2005
The Hand That Feeds
So, I've been toying with GarageBand, remixing Nine Inch Nails' "The Hand That Feeds," and it's been a fun little time, eliminating the guitar track and replacing it with the Eastern Santoor 01 loop, making for a bizarre mixture of Nine Inch Nails and Ravi Shankar or something. It'll be better in a few days, after I've run Trent's voice through a filter or something.
So this week, I bought Black & White 2 and have been somewhat enjoying it. Like a very large number of videogames, it's my contention that the computer cheats, because I left it with virtually no population in one level, and five minutes later it had two-hundred-some soldiers. So, of course, I had George, my Unholy Cow, lay waste to them. And then the computer did it again. If there's anything I hate in videogames, it's when the computer cheats, and the only thing I hate more is jumping-puzzles. I'll actually write up a review of it at some point, but probably not here.
And earlier today, I bought F.E.A.R., which I'm not going to abbreviate with those silly periods again, because it's hard to type. So, FEAR it is, then. I've been playing it for a couple of hours, and I've got to say that I'm tremendously glad that I've got a rig capable of handling it decently. By "decent," I mean running at 1024 by 768, but unfortunately without anti-aliasing, because that's just a performance-hog that made the game nearly unplayable. However, even without anti-aliasing, the game's very pretty, runs at an acceptable framerate, and I found being able to pistol-whip bad guys is even more fun than shooting them. I'll have a more informed opinion in a couple of days, likely after I've beaten the game. Tell you this now, though: I haven't played a game this scary since Clive Barker's Undying. I mean, Doom 3 was scary because you'd wander around tight corridors, wondering when demons were going to burst out of the closet andstart singing Judy Garland songs attack you, but this game is legitimately scary at times.
Speaking of Doom just a minute ago, the "film version of the game" came out today to scathing reviews, including one star from Roger Ebert. There are a couple of things that make the Doom series of games what they are:
In political news, Tom DeLay is on trial in Texas, and his attorney is none other than Dick DeGuerin, whose illustrious legal record includes representing David Koresh. Now, how you go from representing the leader of the biggest cult this side of Jim Jones to the former House Majority Leader, ... well, actually, it makes perfect sense.
The big celebrity news lately has been that Katie Holmes is pregnant. Please note that nowhere in that sentence did I mention the phrase, "with Tom Cruise's child." Read into that what you will, but remember that even Rock Hudson was married. So, if anyone happens to see a vertically-challenged man jumping on couches out on Fire Island sometime, make some Scientology jokes for me, such as:
The British intelligence agency, MI6, has gotten to the point where they just don't have enough spies, and so they've turned to the internets for applicants: "Applicants are promised foreign travel and must be resourceful and flexible, thrive on a challenge and be able to cope with stress." However, they are unfortunately not promised Aston Martins, wristwatch-lasers and babes in every corner of the world. When informed of that, the would-be applicants returned to their pornography.
Taken from Denver's ABC affiliate: A former Colorado Springs coach and teacher who masturbated in front of a Web camera for what he thought was a 13-year-old girl pleaded guilty in the case Thursday and faces up to 18 months in prison when he's sentenced.
The video was discovered by millions of teenage boys when it was accidentally mis-marked and uploaded to the internet as the "Anne Hathaway Boobie-Scene From Havoc." It is still unclear how the coach was identified so quickly.
On This Day in History, October 22, 1844: Jesus does not appear to the Millerites, thus creating the first modern quack of a preacher. According to Wikipedia, Seventh-day Adventists maintain that Christ went into the second apartment of the heavenly sanctuary on October 22, 1844 to begin the investigative judgment of both righteous and wicked to see who is actually ready to go to heaven. That's right, Jesus spent 1800 years in one apartment before finding out that the paperwork was right next door. Turned out that for all of those years, He'd actually been wasting His time on Santa's naughty-and-nice list.
That's right, we don't take hostages here, and we don't play favorites. Whether you're Branch-Davidian, Scientologist or Christian, you're gonna get it here, where there continue to be: No Boobies.
AIM: therbmcc71
So this week, I bought Black & White 2 and have been somewhat enjoying it. Like a very large number of videogames, it's my contention that the computer cheats, because I left it with virtually no population in one level, and five minutes later it had two-hundred-some soldiers. So, of course, I had George, my Unholy Cow, lay waste to them. And then the computer did it again. If there's anything I hate in videogames, it's when the computer cheats, and the only thing I hate more is jumping-puzzles. I'll actually write up a review of it at some point, but probably not here.
And earlier today, I bought F.E.A.R., which I'm not going to abbreviate with those silly periods again, because it's hard to type. So, FEAR it is, then. I've been playing it for a couple of hours, and I've got to say that I'm tremendously glad that I've got a rig capable of handling it decently. By "decent," I mean running at 1024 by 768, but unfortunately without anti-aliasing, because that's just a performance-hog that made the game nearly unplayable. However, even without anti-aliasing, the game's very pretty, runs at an acceptable framerate, and I found being able to pistol-whip bad guys is even more fun than shooting them. I'll have a more informed opinion in a couple of days, likely after I've beaten the game. Tell you this now, though: I haven't played a game this scary since Clive Barker's Undying. I mean, Doom 3 was scary because you'd wander around tight corridors, wondering when demons were going to burst out of the closet and
Speaking of Doom just a minute ago, the "film version of the game" came out today to scathing reviews, including one star from Roger Ebert. There are a couple of things that make the Doom series of games what they are:
- Must take place on Mars.
- Must involve a portal to Hell.
- Demons come from the aforementioned portal, and they are indeed demons from Hell.
In political news, Tom DeLay is on trial in Texas, and his attorney is none other than Dick DeGuerin, whose illustrious legal record includes representing David Koresh. Now, how you go from representing the leader of the biggest cult this side of Jim Jones to the former House Majority Leader, ... well, actually, it makes perfect sense.
The big celebrity news lately has been that Katie Holmes is pregnant. Please note that nowhere in that sentence did I mention the phrase, "with Tom Cruise's child." Read into that what you will, but remember that even Rock Hudson was married. So, if anyone happens to see a vertically-challenged man jumping on couches out on Fire Island sometime, make some Scientology jokes for me, such as:
How many Scientologists does it take to change a lightbulb?Yeah, it's obscure to you, but Tom Cruise would probably jump up and down on the couch like a gorilla on crystal meth, screaming, "I'll fucking kill you!"
Two: one to hold each wire, and the other to ask questions of the first until the bulb lights up.
The British intelligence agency, MI6, has gotten to the point where they just don't have enough spies, and so they've turned to the internets for applicants: "Applicants are promised foreign travel and must be resourceful and flexible, thrive on a challenge and be able to cope with stress." However, they are unfortunately not promised Aston Martins, wristwatch-lasers and babes in every corner of the world. When informed of that, the would-be applicants returned to their pornography.
Taken from Denver's ABC affiliate: A former Colorado Springs coach and teacher who masturbated in front of a Web camera for what he thought was a 13-year-old girl pleaded guilty in the case Thursday and faces up to 18 months in prison when he's sentenced.
The video was discovered by millions of teenage boys when it was accidentally mis-marked and uploaded to the internet as the "Anne Hathaway Boobie-Scene From Havoc." It is still unclear how the coach was identified so quickly.
On This Day in History, October 22, 1844: Jesus does not appear to the Millerites, thus creating the first modern quack of a preacher. According to Wikipedia, Seventh-day Adventists maintain that Christ went into the second apartment of the heavenly sanctuary on October 22, 1844 to begin the investigative judgment of both righteous and wicked to see who is actually ready to go to heaven. That's right, Jesus spent 1800 years in one apartment before finding out that the paperwork was right next door. Turned out that for all of those years, He'd actually been wasting His time on Santa's naughty-and-nice list.
That's right, we don't take hostages here, and we don't play favorites. Whether you're Branch-Davidian, Scientologist or Christian, you're gonna get it here, where there continue to be: No Boobies.
AIM: therbmcc71
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