find nothing but faith in nothing

What does it mean to be understanding? What does anything mean... I don't know anymore.

I've given you sunshine, I've given you rain

This is the second night in a row that I've woken up at around 04:30 and have been unable to go back to sleep. How do people function with so little sleep? I don't know how mothers do it. I pump myself full of tea in the daytime so that I can barely carry out the basic functions of a person.

I signed up for raiding Monday and Tuesday, knowing that I'll probably only be slotted one of these two days. This whole raiding business worries me a little... what if I let everyone down? But that's not why I'm up...

I sometimes wonder if the great historical figures ever felt the way I do about things. Did Abe Lincoln ever have an emo trip over one of his friendships? One of the strangest moments in my life happened the other week, when the entire pod was out having lunch (Irene may have been on vacation), and Richard divulged these facts about him and experiences he had that I had never heard before. I felt uncomfortable and false, sitting there, supposedly his closest friend, and yet not knowing any of the stories coming out of him. Revealing and somewhat shocking things I never knew. And here he was sharing it with three other podmates, and me. I felt like someone was going to find out that I didn't know these things and tell me that I'm not really his close friend, that I didn't even know these things about him. Right there, in the restaurant. While I was sitting beside him. I think I managed to contain my shame. That's not why I'm up, either...

It's funny, it also feels shameful to be sitting here, awake at 04:54, knowing you should be in bed. I know Nads would shoo me off to bed, and she is always worried about my sleep. And I fear that she will wake up and catch me like this... so pathetic and out of control.

I can't write, she's got all my inspiration

The daily writing exercise, from C.M. Mayo. Does anyone know of any writing exercise of the day type deals?

I am reproducing some of this one cause it's obscure, please don't sue me Ms. Mayo, I'm just trying to write! The full exercise and more can be found here: http://www.cmmayo.com/d5mwearchives.june.html

In two sentences or less describe Fran. In two sentences or less describe her living room. In two sentences or less, very specifically put Fran in the livingroom. Then, Tina comes in and tries to help. In what way? What exactly does Tina do? And/ or say? How does Fran react?

Fran is a delicate woman living in a post-apocalyptic world. Her living room brings new meaning to the term "open concept". She is looking for her baby underneath the debris, where she had hidden him from the infanticidal sun earlier in the day. Tina, noticing her frantic searching, gets to searching as well, pushing away garbage and boxes. Wordlessly, she searches as if it were her own child. Fran takes cautious comfort in Tina's help, as babies are now the most precious resource in the world. She would do it for any other child.

you're nothing special until you turn out the lights

A writing exercise not from jPod.

---

Despite the strange metallic shard of a meteor that seemed to still faintly glow, the clock that made a ghostly creak every time the minute hand budged, and shrunken head sitting on the glass cabinet, the suitcase in the middle of the room had John's attention.

It had been retrieved from the attic this morning. Papa Joe had sworn he had never seen the suitcase before, but John did not exactly trust his memory. What seemed really odd to John was that the suitcase had no dust on it. If this was a forensics show he'd refer to the entire suitcase as a big void in dust splatter. The possibilities raced in his mind.

Behind him, Meredith cautiously looked on. John studied her intently for a moment and knew she was thinking about the bloodied dreamcatcher of an Aztec god, or the coral gathered from around the Bermuda Triangle, and how none of them were as strange this suitcase. John could feel her trepidation. He could see her slightly damp hands holding each other, waiting for his instructions.

The suitcase itself wasn't the most unique case in the world, sitting in its ubiquitous black leathery skin and silver frame. But the way it was simply dumped into the attic...

John couldn't decide if he should open it. The unfamiliarity of the case scared him. He knew one thing though, he could not, under any circumstances, allow it to be opened in the house. He told Meredith to grab the keys and he picked up the rather light suitcase - alien technology? - and transported it to their minivan. They drove out to a canyon about sixty miles from their home, where once there was an archaeological dig site set up because some professor thought there would be fossils from the Missing Link buried in the area. The area had been empty for years after, as if the disappointment was too much for anyone to handle. Here, no one but John or Meredith could be harmed.

John dragged the suitcase to the edge of the canyon, in case he had to push it over. The dry heat was already making him sweat. He bent down and examined the lock carefully, trying to determine the best way to open it. He turned to Meredith to ask for the crowbar, but before he got a word out, she slammed into his chest. John reached out desperately but the momentum carried both him and the suitcase over the edge. The suitcase popped open and several sheets of paper flew out, and John couldn't make out the contents of any of them. He was also trying to remember if he had seen the red glow in Meredith's eyes at the moment of impact, if maybe it was the Aztec god he had brought so thoughtlessly into their home. And then, he could think no more.

You're born of a jackal! You're beautiful!

It's funny how I perceive things so differently from other people. For example, my friends often think I'm at my meanest when I'm making fun of them or aspects of them that they find to be negative (in front of their face).

I will sometimes mock Chris' weight or about him ever having had one girlfriend or whatever. I agree that the jokes are quite brutal and they cut deep, but really, they are quite a compliment from me. By laughing about these things, what I'm really saying is "haha, let's laugh at these things that don't really matter, I like you how you are".

And that's really true of all my friends. I accept them exactly as they are. If they want to improve and change, that's great too and I support them, but I know all kinds of things about them and it doesn't matter to me. I like them anyway.

If I'm going to be someone else, I'd rather be someone else with you

!! Collectible Developer G/C, out of box!!

Starting bid US $0.01
(approximately C $0.01)
End time: All too soon
Shipping Costs: See details
Ships to: Anywhere with a fast internet connection
Item location: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
History: 0 bids
Payment methods: None of that hippie paper shit

Meet the Seller
Seller: Emo_Idealist (27)
Feedback: 20% Positive
Member: since 4-Oct-80 in Canada

Description
You are bidding AS IS on ONE used software developer in Good Condition. Original Packaging and manual is not included, but I'll throw in his crappy creative writing so that you know how to work him. No picture available as this developer refuses to take any because of his insecurity, and when he looks into the lens of the camera, he sees a distorted view of what he thinks the picture will look like and is overcome with unease. Packaged in business casual wear (short sleeve unironed shirt and khakis).

The only damage besides his eczema and a small faint scar on his chin is not visible and wholly emotional. Sure you could buy a cheaper developer from EBay India, and they will work harder, but all they would do is do whatever you tell them to do. This developer adapts to any environment and has become very Canadian after I found him at bargain prices in Hong Kong.

Remember, each developer is numbered 1 to 50,000,000 and after that, we’ll churn out more, so you best hurry if you don’t really understand technology but you expect computers to fix all the shitty little problems in your life. Thanks and good luck!

BID WITH CONFIDENCE. NO REFUNDS OR EXCHANGES.

Gears of War

Gears of War
X360 - Epic - November 12, 2006
Microsoft Game Studios
Third Person, Shooter, Chainsaw
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Click here to customize the way your overall score is calculated!

Graphics 97 Sound 90 Gameplay 95 Encounter/Level Design 92 Dollar Value CDN$60

95

At the time of writing, 28 hours have been put into the game, and probably will be spending many more until Gears 2.

---

There are a couple words that can sum up the Gears of War experience, and those are Guns and Chainsaws. I'm not talking about separately, either. Guns. Chainsaws. Together. Read that again. It's as awesome as it sounds.

Since my Tyrannical Overlords won't let me get away with using just a few words though, here is some extra analysis about the game, even though you should have stopped reading by now and have gone out and bought the game for the two reasons listed above.

For one, Gears of War has some of the best graphics of any console game still. I'm not saying that they were good for back then – they are actually quite good compared to games now. In some scenes you can see the pixels, and the view is annoyingly obstructed by your character sometimes, but in the end you appreciate the chunks of body parts splattering chaotically on the ground. Even little things are done right, so that it's worth it for you to put a chainsaw to an opponent even though it means imminent death after the lengthy animation. One element that might annoy gamers is that the camera jolts and shifts weirdly as you run. Though it is annoyingly ineffective at times, running hard while trying to do things like aiming and shooting big guns should probably be that difficult.

The sound bytes are both enjoyable and purposeful. In multiplayer, which is the majority of my experience, there are sound bytes to let you know when your teammate has been downed, when you or your teammate has hit the perfect reload, or when an enemy nearby is running or diving around. Getting a headshot in the story mode will reward you with sound bytes like “Sup, bitches!” The voice acting is fairly good and the banter that goes on amoung the members of your squad is quite superb, even though there is not enough of it. Other than that, the bad guys make scary noises, the guns make gun noises, and the random people on the internet make inane noises, so everything is as it should be.

The gameplay is where Gears really shines. I don't think I can play a shooter that doesn't have a decent cover system anymore. It just makes sense. Your options while in cover is like playing a strategic mini-game, and there are many skills you can master to help you become successful at the game. Though the story mode does get pretty hard on the harder difficulties, nothing compares to the strategic squad based multiplayer that also manages to get its fair share of action in. It is the perfect mix of action for the head shot junkies and the squad based strategy as found in the Rainbow Six games. I have been on teams with fairly skilled players and gotten crushed because of the lack of communication and strategy. On the other hand, I have downed the entire opposing team singlehandedly (I'd like to think this was because of some skill on my part). You really value your life, unlike most of the respawning shooters, and survival means you stick with your teammates. Combine these elements with the adrenaline pumping guns and chainsaws, and you have a fairly addictive multiplayer experience. Not since the original Unreal Tournament have I played such a compelling shooter.

The co-op mode is awesome as well. One thing you will learn about me is that I love co-op. I want to marry co-op and have its babies. Co-op is probably the best feature anyone can put in a game. Even in the other multiplayer modes, I like teamming up with my friends rather than competing against them. Co-op can make even mediocre games fun (hello, Marvel Ultimate Alliance!). There are some brilliant moments in the co-op story mode, such as trying to keep your partner in a spotlight as they run along a dark street.

The story is somewhat interesting if a bit cliche, and the characters are done well enough to keep interest in between killing aliens. The setting also does just enough to not seem like it was hacked together at the last minute. I carry some interest in the pasts of the main characters, but honestly, the story does not live up to the levels of awesome that make up the rest of the game.

Epic also has a history of supporting their games for a long while, and I can't exactly say I'm disappointed so far with the two map packs they've released and the patch that makes the Lancer (the standard machine gun that has the chainsaw attached) viable in multiplayer. I wish they would fix the grenade melee attack as a point of game balance, but that's about the only complaint I have in terms of gameplay.

Gears of War does almost everything just right, and I fully recommend that you try out the new release of the game that's coming out. Then join me as we salivate over the Gears of War 2 footage that has been released.

Don “I can't quit you Dom” Tam

If I had a funeral, would you even care?

I don't know why I can't go back to sleep, but it sucks. It is now 04:54, and I have been awake for about half an hour. No, I've been awake longer than that, I just decided that it was pointless to try to get back to sleep half an hour ago.

A few things led to this. One, I'm crazy and obsessive and I am agonizing over either working on a crappy crappy laptop with XP on it or turning on UAC and jumping through various hoops on my regular laptop in order to do the current project for work (thanks Quickbooks, I hate you). Second, the temperature is just cold enough that I can't not have a cover (fun fact: I always need a cover to sleep, even if it's just a thin bed sheet) but using my regular cover means I overheat just very slightly after a while. Then, to really seal the deal when I was sleeping after making a decision about problem One, my dreams decided to take me to unhappy land.

I dreamed that Nads was dead. The details were hidden from me, and I could only feel sadness and pain. I imagined myself crumpled in the shower, convincing myself to survive for Jasmine's sake. I thought about how I was going to feed Jasmine, how I would get her to sleep without Nads around. Pictures jumped around in my mind and they painted a picture an artistic and tortured undead may paint, but thankfully I woke up before I started to actually cry. But at this point, I was wide awake and didn't want to go back to those dreams again, and kept my eyes open. And here I am.

Ya know, I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today

Test your reaction time

Two interesting things I've discovered about myself through this game:

I seem to process and react to things in increments of .06. I'm not sure if this is normal, but my times for each shot were almost always .120, .180, or .240

I can get the sheep running along the top faster than I can along the bottom.

My high score is .18... I can't understand how people can get < .1 for the Turbo Charged Cheetah level.

I will be the one to make you crawl

I'm so incredibly damaged. And as a result, paranoid. Whether those two facts have a relationship like cause and effect, I'm not sure. That's just who I am most of the time. Here is a process that I go through with people that I really like:

I will constantly be looking for signs or signals of how important I am in their life. Comparing things they do with me to other things they do, comparing myself to other people they know, comparing myself to other things, forever trying to place myself in some kind of ranking. And often, this paints a depressing picture for me. I often want to be more important to this person than I am. And every little thing that I observe hurts. But by this time I've already grown all attached, and now am in desperate need to adapt and scale down how I feel about this person (which is hard for me to do). And it's sad and depressing, because most likely I will have thought that I meant something. It's complicated.

Anyway, trying to scale back and trying to be less attached is hard to do without coming off as an asshole, and is made all the harder because I'm just in the emotional equivalent of a sewer. What makes it really tough too is that I can in no way discuss me with these people, because I don't feel I'm really worth discussing, and in addition, how embarassing is it to say “hey, I really like you, I wish to be really important to you, or maybe that's just the way you act even towards important people, or maybe now you just think I'm totally insane cause our relationship is not that deep.” Especially when it is already clear (see above) that I am not as significant as all that. Also, people really do have their own problems, and the last thing I want is for people to have to worry about how they're dealing with me.

So that step usually goes rather unsmoothly, and while I try really hard to restrain myself from running back like a puppy every time I see them, I choose complete silence, all the while hoping that they would notice, but even if they do, it just prolongs this process as I'm inserted back into the first step. And in the end, the net effect for me is this: I question why I should be important to this person at all, and the answer that always comes back is: You shouldn't, you dumb fuck. You're barely interesting enough to talk to. And the net effect for the other person? Probably nothing. And that's what saddens me the most, I guess. But still, I want them to be as happy as possible, so if I'm not really doing much in their life, what's the point of me sitting around being all emo about it and having them worry about me? It wouldn't make them happiest to have an extraneous person to worry about, it what I mean.

On another damaged point, I think maybe why I like finding out about the darkness and everything about other people, is that I feel such a disconnection with people due to my own psychosis.

Moral of the story: How fucked up am I? How far does my psychotic pit go? Discuss amoungst yourselves.

I like when you sleep, when you sleep next to me

I had a weird nightmare last night... it was strangely continuous and fairly long. It had me in its grasp such that after I woke up to turn off my alarm, it dragged me back into its eerie embrace. It was one of those nightmares that affected you even after you're awake – even though I was half an hour later than my usual routine, I could not muster myself to move very quickly. I was stunned, still enthralled and contemplative, and as a result I still spaced out in the shower despite every intention of speeding through that comforting time trap.

It started with work. Except we were now located in a mall. And on this particular day, Irene wanted me to pick up roses for her from this store in the mall, and she had handed me an invoice from the store. I remember telling her that $24 was a bit expensive for roses, and she looked a little ashamed and said she liked the proximity of the store. I didn't push it further but I was curious as to why she was buying roses. Similarly, Mark, who doesn't work anywhere near me, also had two receipts for me to pick up some things in the mall. The work day went by, and there was a club inside the mall that we were going to go to after work. So Richard, Irene and I headed down there, and there was this other crowd of indeterminate extras that I was talking to as Richard was laying on the charm at the bar, and I was explaining to them how he's always charming like that and popular. Except currently he seemed a little drunk and no one was around him. He was working on some girl across the bar though. I was satisfied that he'd have a companion soon... and then I remembered about the errands I was supposed to run, and the mall was about to close. I ran across the mall (Irene told me to go in the wrong direction), and when I finally got to the flower shop, I realized I didn't have the receipt. So I ran back the short distance to the club to grab the receipts from the jacket, intending to grab Mark's stuff for him too.

And this is where it really began. I consider it some kind of miracle that I remember all the details before this, and they are all still very clear in my mind instead of the usual uncertainty that comes with remembering details of dreams.

I grabbed my jacket, and I noticed the various bouncers were ushering everyone out, except for a few people here and there. I overheard one of the bouncers tell Richard sarcastically “yeah, yeah, only the cool people get to stay”. I was one of the few that wasn't ushered out, and we were all directed to this theatre room. I remember being very shocked and confused as to why I was being chosen to stay, and I wanted to get out there and hang out with Richard but was too curious about what was about to happen here. On my way to the theatre room, I noticed that Snoop Dogg was one of the people heading there, and apparently I knew him in this dimension. He had a pocket on the arm of his jacket, and I unzipped it and searched in there for some clue of what's about to happen, since Snoop seemed to be the type of guy to be in the know. Nothing but some money and a bus token, and I handed him back all his materials and then I never saw him again for the rest of the dream.

In this theatre we sat for a short while and then we were herded onto a bus, and it started driving us into the countryside. The sides of the road looked golden, and I was suddenly reminded of jPod and (spoilers warning!) how Ethan got on this bus and he didn't know where it would take him and it could easily take him into a slavery at a sweat shop, and I started getting worried. Maybe this was where the nightmare seed was planted in my mind and the dream changed. I'm not too sure of how they work. Then Brad Pitt, who was the club proprietor, except he wasn't Brad Pitt, came on the bus P.A. System and announced that we were all going to die, and that we started thinking about our last wishes. As everyone around me were shocked and mildly freaking out, I began to seriously agonize over what my last wish would be. I thought about something that would maybe buy us some time, but I couldn't really get a hold of it. Then Pitt announced that first he was going to come around and break our knees with a baseball bat, and then he would come around to ask us the meaning of life, and if any of us answer 42 as some of us “must” do, we would be mutilated and tossed off the bus immediately. I was unfortunately sitting near the front of the bus, and I braced for the pain as he wound up his bat, but I knew I could not move or duck away or I would be killed. I imagined the pain I would be in moments from then, but instead, he turned around to harass a lady on the opposite side. A balding man in the first seat opposite me grabbed some rope and stealthily manuevered around Pitt. I thought to myself, maybe I should help him when he attacks (he forcefully put the rope around Pitt's neck like a garrotte at this point), and as I was getting up, Pitt twisted around quickly (I guess the balding man did not hold him tight enough) and stabbed him with a small corkscrew type thing. I sat down from shock and fear that he had seen me wanting to take action against him and would kill me next. Pitt stabbed the man a few more times in the neck for good measure and left him on the floor.

Pitt cleaned himself up at the front of the bus and as he walked past me to the back of the bus, he threw the corkscrew weapon into my lap. It was the size of my pinky, and I was curious as to why he handed me a weapon. He probably did see me half standing and was daring me to make a move. I gripped the weapon in a fist and remained calm and seated, wondering if I had failed the balding man and questioning whether I should have moved sooner.

There were ocassional scenes throughout this part that focused on these two eighteen year-olds who were somehow left behind in the club. They couldn't find a way out because the door was locked. They did not know each other before this crisis. Somehow I ended up back at the club. There was a clear slip in time and space that I'm not sure can really be explained. I checked the front door and found that it was a thin wooden door. I found the teens and scolded the male teen: “Surely you can break through a wood.” When the female pushed on the door it opened. It wasn't locked at all. At this point I was incensed but managed to keep my cool, knowing that I needed these teens to get help. So I showed them on an interactive map like you would find in WoW using Cartographer that happened to be on the wall by the door. According to the moving dots, the bus group seemed to be somewhere in Africa and moving rapidly east through Asia. I asked them to hurry and get help for the people there. At this point my mind asked why I couldn't leave, and it reasoned that Pitt must've threatened my family if I had left when I returned to the club.

The bus crew returned, with a few people missing, and there was entertainment. It was a sinister sort of entertainment, like a siren's song. One of Pitt's cronies was singing karaoke, and all his ladies were entertaining guests in the pool, which I stayed out of. No one bothered me, surprisingly, and I walked around the pool. The girls were drowning various people and I felt sorry for them. I thought of all the dead bodies in the pool. There was a girl who managed to surface, and the Pitt girl pretended nothing was going on and continued to be sweet and soothing, but the girl was irate and could not be soothed. When the song was done, a girl I used to know, Vivian, asked me to sing a song, but I told her to go ahead, that she had a better voice anyway, and she went into the booth. I felt some despair as to the helplessness of my situation and how sinister it was that there were all these dead bodies everywhere in broad daylight that was pouring in now from the newly revealed skylight. Yet I felt some relief that nothing has happened to me yet and that I still had hope that help would find us here instead of searching in Africa and through Asia as I had directed the teens. I wondered how Pitt got back from Africa so fast, and of course, the answer was that it was the same way I got back here so fast.

That's when I realized that my alarm had already alerted my it was time to wake up a while ago. Uh oh.

When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May

Dear Ronald McDonald,


I heard that they made you take the beef juice out of your fries. I will be the first to say that that is a terrible shame for all of humanity. Even though your fries are still king in a saturated market, I for one will not sleep well knowing that there are some random and inedible cow parts we are not milking for their sweet juices to flavour your delicious potato product.

And you know what I like about you? Even though the Man stuck it to you, you’re still at the top. Sure, some people can provide “sales data” that may prove contrary to my claim, but as Homer Simpson once said: “facts, schmacts, you can use facts to prove anything that’s even remotely true.”

I suppose I should tell you a bit about me, your perfect mate. I don’t enjoy long walks on the beach, as I imagine you don’t or your makeup would melt or make you uncomfortable in that hulking costume. Which brings me to a question: Do you have multiples of that same outfit or do you just wear that one all the time? Is that clown showerhead that’s much too low to wash your upper body able to cleanse out the lower parts? I suppose that’s two questions but... too bad!

Also as your perfect mate, you will have limited access to my various areas of expertise, none of which are useful in a survival-pragmatism sense. If they shut off all the computers in the world, I would die. Zombies would find me quivering in a corner, unable to comprehend an insensible world. My brain would not be all that tasty, I imagine, because I exercise it all the time as the scientists like to encourage you to do (maybe they’re onto something?). In another survival scenario, if they shut off all the computers, I would be completely extraneous and after the other survivors were done toying with enslaving me, they would dispose of me by churning me into a delectable smoothie (blenders don’t need software).

If any of what I just said sounds appealing to you, call me anytime. Just remember: I’ll put my beef juice on your fries anytime.


Bovinely yours,


Don.

Too long overdue, it's true, i'm out of control

I've started reading JPod today. Microserfs is a great book and I loved it. It's hard not to like it as a Software Developer and a nerd at heart. It's like someone took the time to write about you, and about your quirks and about the way you think. So I'm really looking forward to this one, even though I don't work for a game company.

I will discuss the book in various posts, but I will always warn about spoilers. So here we go: SPOILERS BELOW.

---

Engineers aren't funny or cute or nerdy. They're damaged.

The older the culture is, the less cutesy it is about saying, "Well, you're a winner because you tried your best." Can you imagine a Chinese person saying that?

It's so easy to locate myself in this book that it feels a bit like cheating. The opening stream of consciousness section is entertaining, and gives that quality of intimacy. I was just discussing with Arwen yesterday how it's those little thoughts that create intimacy. Anyone can share general thoughts and big moments together, but it's the little thoughts and little moments, from being together all the time or sharing thoughts all the time that really... bond. Then, I guess I encourage certain people to tell me everything they're thinking, even the little thoughts, because I crave intimacy with them. I'm damaged.

This leads me to another musing I've had on and off for a while: the internet and connectivity of the world in general is trending society towards more diluted and shallow relationships. It has become a quantitative goal rather than qualitative. In the world of Facebook, it's no longer necessary to cultivate specific relationships. There is no need to be intimate with people. For example, it used to be that kids would hang out. They would hang out for the sake of hanging out, even if they had nothing to do and they were bored, they would be together and learn how to coexist in boring times. They'd try to entertain themselves with each other. Over the internet this will not happen. If I am "hanging out" or talking to someone online, you can guarantee that they are probably doing or thinking about something else. If things get boring they can just go play another game or talk to someone else. The lack of dependency causes a gap in the bonding process. I think this is why the gang is so strong. We were dependent on each other every weekend, and we got together for good or ill. And for my part, I try to recreate this over all my new friendships, and it's not working. No one needs or wants to be intimate with me. I have always preferred to be intimate and share my resources with a select few rather than get into the whole social acquaintances mess. What do I have now?

Now that I'm started, I guess I might as well express my increasing loneliness from not being able to hang out with my friends. Jas is terrific and great and really fantastically adorable, but going from hanging out with my friends every weekend to nothing is... impactful. They do not come to visit, some have not even asked to visit. Not that I have much to entertain them with my 20" CRT, but... I guess this goes back to my feelings above.

I feel like I've run out of gas and probably won't be doing the second quote justice. The statement infers that practicality wins out in the end. It's true that Chinese people would only laugh at you for failing, because success is everything in that culture (practical for a nation of over a billion people). And yet, they hold on to such crazy and impractical traditions and superstitions. It's one giant paradox wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

I've got a Dungeon Master's Guide. I've got a twelve-sided die.

There have been many amusing jokes and webcomics that have come out of Gary Gygax's death, including Richard saying "Are you sure he's not just at -2 hps?". This one I'll point out in particular, because I love when people apply things... cross-discipline, as it were:
Monster Manual: Politicians

Roleplaying has served a fairly role (pun optional) in my life. I miss it, and now I am paying my small tribute to the man who, in some way, introduced me to it. Sure, First Edition was a bit crazy, but it started something. Kind of like the first Dance Dance Revolution. I can only hope that he is smiling in the afterlife, knowing that he is still bringing laughter and entertainment in his death.

I finished "American Gods" this morning. I do not like it as much as the other Gaiman novels, but I still like it. It's well written and fairly entertaining. There is a weird sense of seriousness that you don't get with other Gaiman novels, though, like the sheer weight of the atmosphere is telling you to look for something. Maybe at another point in my life this would be my favourite Gaiman novel. I'm interested to hear what Jasmine will think of Gaiman novels. What stood out to me were the acknowledgments. An immense amount of work by very many people went into that book. For all you kids who think writing is just about sitting in front of a typewriter, think again. You need lots of help and a lot of experts. You need to go ask the police about police procedures, and become familiar with the subject matter. Try to experience the events, maybe. The task of writing a novel now seems gargantuan and very strange.

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words

Jasmine is the most fantastic being ever in the history of creation. Even before creation. Nullness and void were looking into the future and discussing how wonderful a being Jas really is.

I realize every parent will claim this about their child. I don't care. There is also room for them to be right. I submit as proof, exhibit A:



I could gush about her forever, so I had better stop. But something feels so... right when she's snuggling into my neck when I burp her, or when she's listening to my heartbeat calmly.

Without you, it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces

Another contemplative but not necessarily revealing post:

It seems impossible to extract how people really feel about other people, and therefore, about you.

That isn't as malicious as it sounds. Even when people try to be candid, there are just layers upon layers of filters and concerns that end up muddling the message. For example, some people think that the "real" feelings are negative, and won't believe the answer they're getting to be real unless it is negative. And then the respondent will subconsciously shift their answer into a more negative tone just to sound sincere. Also, there's always the concern of what will the audience feel or think if I say such things, which is always subconsciously working in our minds. Cocoons of thought, and all these little thoughts are in there, hidden so well.

I dream of the day that people can cut through that bullshit with me. I don't judge responses, I just really want to understand and know. When I ask a question, I am genuinely and sincerely interested in what you have to say. And the feeling that I won't know the whole and precise truth just causes this desire that seemingly can't be satisfied.

In your reflection, he lives in you

Something in me is getting weary of online conversations. Does anyone talk just to talk to one person anymore? Is anyone interesting enough to completely hold someone's attention?

I've sat online just talking to one person doing nothing else, because I'm genuinely interested in these people. I assume I am not that interesting, and that makes me very sad.

(Nads doesn't count cause I talk to her face to face. I guess when you're face to face with someone they have no choice but to talk to you.)

Portal

Portal
PC - Valve - October 9, 2007
Valve
First-Person, Puzzle, Steam, Valve, Portal, GLaDOS
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Graphics 90 Sound 98 Gameplay 92 Encounter/Level Design 89 Dollar Value CDN$20

92

System Specs used in the review
At the time of writing, 4 hours have been put into the game.

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What would you expect to be the best element in a First-Person Puzzler? The ingenious puzzle design? The clever learning curve and game mechanics? Play Portal and the answer may surprise you. The shining star of Portal isn't the graphics or gameplay, but the villain, GLaDOS.

Portal is available on its own or as part of the larger collection of Half Life 2 related games known as the Orange Box. It is available through the regular retail channels and Steam, and just to show you how much they like the game, Valve made the game a part of their flagship Half Life 2 universe. But, back to GLaDOS.

GLaDOS will creep you out a little as well as make you laugh. She's that type of girl. By the time you are finished with the game, you will remember her lines and her voice more than any of the 19 levels you played through to get to the ending. And believe me, you will remember the ending.

Don't get me wrong, all the other elements of the game are put together very well in order to create an immersive environment for GLaDOS to work her charm. The innovation of the game is admirable, as the portal gun makes you think with a different set of rules. Moreover, despite being essentially a puzzle game, the First-Person view actually allows for some intense action moments, such as desperately trying to find a solution before your platform runs into a wall that will knock you into a pool of acid. This blend of puzzle-action is fresh and actually makes the game quite accessible. The short levels will allow even casual gamers to step in and do a few levels at a time.

The puzzles in the game are also not that challenging, which should lend a hand in attracting a wider audience. However, this aspect was a little bit disappointing as I never really felt triumphant at any moment in the game, which should be the reward of story-based puzzle games. It did help the pace of the game and gets you to the ending faster though, so it's more of a lose-win situation.

The graphics are very clean and really does the job of making it look like a somewhat dilapidated futuristic training centre. As you go deeper into the Enrichment Centre you will notice broken things or dirty things and soon you get the eerie feeling you're not in Kansas anymore. There really isn't much to say about the graphics except to say that they are good but I've seen better.

The sound and music in the game are perfect. The voice acting is funny, touching, emotive and yet robotic and distant. I gave it an imperfect score only out of some sense that there is probably some technical element to the sound that I can't perceive but can be improved. Also, providing subtitles for the audio dialog is a fantastic option. I can't express how much I love subtitles.

The only major flaw from a "I have to pay money for this" perspective is the length of the game. If you are not interested in the achievements nor the bonus maps, you may be able to blow through this game in 3 hours. Yet, I still believe the experience is worth the full CDN$20. I recommend that everyone play this game, if only so that I can randomly send them quotes from GLaDOS and share a laugh.

If I believe I'm dreaming

Two pieces of news on video games that i'd like to record:

Video Games as an Olympic Sport

and:

Video Games blamed for violence (again)

I have no more to say about videogame violence. People who believe what they read about this type of stuff are not necessarily stupid people. Surely, if you tell them that linking increasing youth violence to video games is like linking increasing violence throughout the century to refrigerators.

On another note, it's pretty cool that kids can soon (maybe) dream of being part of Team Canada's Video Game Relay. By no means do I think it should be an Olympic sport. Games should stick to game tournaments or leagues... video games have no more Olympic spirit in them than board games. But if it does happen... well, that's something.

I'm not an addict, maybe that's a lie

This is the eve of the birth of baby Jasmine. I've already started referring to her as Jas in various communications, accepted as part of my forthcoming reality. There wasn't this shock of "zomg, i'm becoming a dad". Feelings like that do not really penetrate into my consciousness.

Instead, last night I was faced with a rather tough question that involved some introspection, as some tough questions do:

How much do I want Jas to be like me?

It is no secret that I am not my biggest fan. I feel that is justified, for I know much better people, and people who are better at everything, and... well, enough of that. The important thing is that, despite that, I think I do have some good qualities, and which of those do I want Jasmine to take on? But even beyond qualities, are there habits I want or do not want her to pick up? Let me consider.

Frugality: I think I'm pretty good with money. I do not spend a lot, and I value pretty much everything. I am not afraid of money problems and I can deal with them directly. I can be rather lax about money with my friends though. In this particular aspect, I think what would be best for Jas is if she does not gimp herself to save money like I do. She should enjoy her life to her full enjoyment, and let me be frugal for her to do so! But I would still like her to understand and be able to plan finances.

Pleasing People: Yes, I do try to please everyone and accommodate everyone. This has some advantages, as I never get into a mode that's way too selfish (at least, I think), but of course this means that I am pretty upset when I can't please someone. I'd probably want her to have a modicum of this, but I want her to be more sensible about it.

Technology: I'm pretty crippled without it. It's a weird feeling... I just don't like being offline. I never talk to people on the phone. I am comfortable with the layer of separation between me and the other party, so that if I start being boring, it is easy for them to ignore me. I certainly would not like Jasmine to inherit this. I want her to be tech-savvy and a cool gaming girl, but what I do is pretty unhealthy. I will not let the computer or a TV babysit her. I promise this.

At this point, I'm thinking this task is much larger than I originally thought. I probably have traits that I'm not even aware of. And I apologize now for passing down any that you dislike, Jas.