This One Is For the Kelley

This is the post where I rub Kelley's face in the fact that I am in the land of videogames and he is not. Sure, he then might try to rub my face in the fact that the DS gets released in North America first but I'll still get to play it before him. There's a free videogame festival happening here in the middle of November. So there!

Anyhoo... whilst out wandering today, I stumbled across Sega World. "A world of Sega?" I thought to myself, "If it's anything like Sega games, it'll be better in theory than in actual practice." Using that logic, I almost didn't investigate. But then I figured what the hell and went in anyway.

It was full of stuff. All sorts of videogames, arcade games to be more specific. Also, a lot of UFO Catcher games. Including one that had really wiggly jelly. It was weird. I tried to take a picture, but how does one convey the un-natural jiggly-wiggliness of jelly in a still photo? Enough about the non-arcade games though.

There was a whole section devoted to arcade Mah Jongg. Not all that exciting. Rows and rows and rows of Virtua Fighter: Final Tuned machines. Virtua Fighter is crazy popular here in Japan. Tonnes of machines everywhere, and most of the machines are always being played.

There were a lot of multiplayer arcade games going on, and I bet none of them will ever come to North America. First up is this game, whose name I never bothered to learn. It's a card-based strategy turn-based RPG. Utilizing the large touch screen in front of them, players pick and use their various cards. The screen in front of them then shows what's going on around their character's immediate area whilst the massive screen up front shows the big picture. I believe this game can be played co-operatively or head to head.

Next up is this here football as in soccer game. Once again multiplayer. Once again multi-screen. Once again touch sensitive. See those little fields next to every unit? Those are part of the control layout. Nuts huh? Once again, the player's screen shows them the close up action, the big main screen shows of the big picture or highlights particularly cool actions.

There was other stuff of note. Including... The dog walking game. I didn't play it. But I will. Oh yes. I will.

I loved Typing of the Dead on the Dreamcast. It's because of that game that I can type more than 3 words a minute. Well it's not just a play at home game any more. That's right. Now you can type in the safety and comfort of your local arcade. Chicks dig typing. Chicks dig killing the undead. Finally a game that brings the two together in the most chick friendly place of all: the arcade.

Here's a picture of a couple of light gun games. One is an underwater type game, the other is based on the Lupin The Third anime.

When speaking of light gun games, you have to mention Virtua Cop. It's the game that made the genre popular again. I've always loved the Virtua Cop games, they're like John Woo video games. Lots of guns, lots of bullets, lots of non-descript guys in dark suits. Virtua Cop 3 is more of the same, but now even more John Woo-Y. That's right, now there's plenty of slow motion. All sorts of bullet time craziness. I took a picture, but it's too blurry to post. That's okay though, cuz I live in a land where there are crazy cool arcades every which way I turn.

Plus hot chicks who want to have sex with me. I swear to god, if you want to fuck a Japanese girl, fly over here to Japan and go to a club. Any club. You'll be good to go.

F Zero

Within a few block radius of where I am staying right now, there are at least four full-sized, sit down arcade cabinets of F Zero. They are gorgeous.
The whole damn game is gorgeous so I suppose it's only fitting. Actually, seeing this game again, and in an arcade context makes me realize how truly fantastic this game is.

Japan

Yep, I'm in Japan. Nihon. I'm surrounded by Japanese people. It's nuts.

The hotel room we're staying in is about the size of my bathroom back home, and that's including our Japanese bathroom. Fucking tiny.

The bad part about being in Japan is that you see a lot of ugly Japanese girls. Their are people here with serious genetic issues. It's just wrong. But then you see the lovely ones and everything else just fades away. Everything but your fiance of course.

Saw some cool shit in the videogame shop I wandered in to. Fuck. I want it so bad, but games over here are not cheap. Factor in the exchange rate and it really sucks.

Went to a part for English and non English people. The second question out of every Japanese girls mouth was about my availability. God damn.

If you want to read more in depth about Carla and me in Japan, with less swearing and mentioning of hot Japanese girls, you should click over to my other website.

If I ever get around to putting a link up that is.

More Minibosses

Ａｓ　Ｉ　ｍｅｎｔｉｏｎｅｄ　ｉｎ　ｔｈｅ　ｌａｓｔ　ｐｏｓｔ，　ｔｈｅ　Ｍｉｎｉｂｏｓｓｅｓ　ｗｅｒｅ　ｓｏ　ｍｕｃｈ　ｍｏｒｅ　ｔｈａｎ　ａｌｌ　ｔｈａｔ．　　Ｙｅａｈ．　　Ｓｏ　ROCKIN！！！　　Ｔｈｅｙ　ｊｕｓｔ　ｌａｉｄ　ｉｎｔｏ　ｔｈｅ　ｍｕｓｉｃ　ｍａｎ．　　They didn't just play the music,　ｔhey set out to destroy it. One of the guitarist spun around so much he might still be dizzy. Have you ever tried playing 8-bit videogame music on a real instrument? Me neither, but seeing these guys play made me realize how complex it was. Repetitive yes, but complex. Their fingers were flying through the chords.

And god damn if the audience wasn't lapping it all up. They (we) were singing along. Humming or making various noises in time with the music. It was a little spooky. Then... I love this part... they played the Metroid medley. This was the defining moment of the con for me. The part that made me proud to be a geek, to be a associated with the masses around me. The Metroid medley is fantastic, and they played the fuck out of it. There are plenty of fast parts, but the slow part near the end is where the magic happened. Geeks don't smoke much. It's hard to hold a cigarette and still play to the best of your abilities. Hence, most geeks don't have lighters. But we've got plenty of stuff that glows in the dark. During the slow part of the Metroid medley, geeks pulled out their cell phones, their PDAs, their Ipods, and their GBA SPs (fuck me, why did I have to leave mine back at the hotel?) and waved them back and forth in the air. Plus we were all singing along. Spine tingling. To be a part of a crowd that not only doesn't mock you for waving your GBA SP proudly in the air, but thinks that is a great idea, that thinks that you are cool for doing so? My geek batteries have been recharged. Fuck man, they will never go empty ever again.

And you know what? I think that that night was the best night of the Minibosses career. To have a room so in tune with what they're about. So in need of what they have. It was a perfect circle of supply and demand. We demanded their best and they gave it, they demanded our attention, our appreciation, our participation and we fell all over ourselves to give it to them.

There was no way that MC Frontalot could top all that. And he didn't. He was still really good. I enjoyed the hell out of him, but nothing could beat the bosses. The audience thinned out noticeably by the time the Front hit the stage. Tellingly, it filled back up near the end of his set. I wasn't sure what to expect from Frontalot, but the live backing was cool. I don't really know how to describe Frontalot, because the Minibosses were so overpowering.

Sorry Front. You'se cool and all, but damn. The Minibosses. The fucking Mini-fucking-bosses. fuck.

If I ever mange to finish blogging about PAX, there will be a fair bit of bitching. A lot could have been done better, but for those of us who got to see the music, all the stupid shit was worth it.

Also, I apologize if this post looks a little weird, I'm typing it on a keyboard not meant for English hands.

PAX: Were The Bands Any Good

So...

Were they?

No. Not really.




Just fuckin' witcha.

The bands were... god damn... fucking... duck... laundry...

It appears that words fail me.

It all started with the PA guys coming out and introducing the first act. The first act was a hot Asian chick who played Final Fantasy music on the piano. I forget her name, but I remember that she was hot. Slim and small and talented. I didn't recognize a lot of the music, but I liked all of it. Do you have to take a special class to flip pages of music for the people playing? Do you get to have intimate relations with the people you flip for? I only ask cuz a change in vocation might be in order. I liked watching her play, the way the fingers and her hands and her wrists moved. So fluid.

Afterwards, the guys came out and swore.

Optimus Ryhme was next. I had been meaning to listen to their stuff ever since I heard that they would be playing. I'm glad I didn't. Not that they weren't good, they were very good. I just mean that they sound much better live than on the disc of theirs I bought or the stuff I found online. The guy who raps can say a lot of words in a short amount of time. And the fat guy in the white ensemble who played the bass, somehow made his weight and his white work for him. It was at some point during the OR (Optimus Ryhme, not Organized Ryhme) set that I noticed the fat dude seated across the aisle from us. We had aisle seats you see. Better view of the stage, you see. So this fat guy did not seem to be grooving on the whole scene, man. He was seated, his bulk all scrunched up. As was his face. He looked cross. I'm sure his arms would be crossed, in disapproval, but for the fact that his fingers were jammed into his ears. He left before The Minibosses, and someone who actually enjoyed the music took his place. I managed to snap a picture of him before he left. I'm quite proud of it too, it's framed just right even though I took it without looking.

Oh yeah, there appeared to be some empty seats near the back of the auditorium, WTF?

When The Minibosses were introduced (make like Jesus and throw up the fucking horns), the god damn place fucking exploded. Geek-gasmic. Holy shit. They, the bosses, said some greetings and thanks and then asked what they should play first. Everybody tried to outgeek each other. Blaster Master! Ghosts and Goblins! A Boy and His Blob! Astyanax! (I was impressed that someone even remembered this game, let alone pronounce it correctly) The Minibosses decided on Megaman 2. Now I've heard their rendition of this song before. I got it off the internet. I don't know if it was recorded in a studio or what. Alls I know is I liked it. Now I know one other thing. You have not heard the Minibosses until you've seen them live. Sweet zombie Jesus they rock. Listening to their internet stuff, I couldn't be sure how ironic they were. If they distanced themselves from the what they were playing. They don't. They go balls out. I've seen a few punk bands. Young, raw punk bands with something to prove. Non of them played as hard as the Minibosses. See them live. Do it, or you have not lived as full a life as I. Even if I fall into a coma that lasts for the rest of my life and you somehow fuck every girl you've ever had a sticky dream about.

They played more songs and people yelled out other game names. There was a sizeable Zelda chant at one point. They said they would play it later. They never did. That would be the only thing I could even think about complaining about. But I won't because that would be like meeting Jesus and bitching him out for that one time he lost his shit in the temple.

I can't think of how to go on. Just remembering that evening is warming my geek core.

But, I think the best way to go on is to stop. I have to be up in three hours. And on a plane a couple hours after that. The first step to Japan is hours away. Fuck, I'm freaking myself out.

I just had to mention the nigh-godliness of The Minibosses before I left the continent. I hope to finish the write up once we touch down over there.

West Coast Super Trip part 3: The Line-ening!

I always want to start off every post with So. Today for example I wanted to start with "So we walked the four or five blocks to the convention centre." Always all the time with the So. Maybe I should just do it. Always start with So. It'll be my schtick. But I get annoyed by my So dependence, and I assume my readers would too. Of course, all this self debate about it isn't annoying at all. You know what? Fuck it.

So we walked the four or five blocks to the convention centre, enjoying the nice weather. About half away, we noticed a line. "Odd." thought we. "Must be for people who didn't pre-register." We concluded. As we got closer, we saw that there were two lines. The ends of both snaked away beyond our view. We began to worry. Picking the line that was closest to us, we took our place and began waiting.

Luckily, two nice guys from the Seattle area got in line behind us and really helped pass the time. I've mentioned them before, but they deserve as many shout outs as I can give them: Dwraith, TheFunkyFist, you guys is da bomb, yo!

Also luckily, there were plenty of people to talk about. There were very large people who ran, mayhap for the first time in their lives. I'm loathe to admit it, but the swirling bosoms of a running fat man are quite hypnotic. There were a lot of geeky shirts. Some were good, some made no sense. "Your mom is a face?" What the fuck is that? There was a big, fat red haired man in a costume with a cape. No one knows why. There were skipping goths, which is (I'm pretty sure) against the goth charter.

There was also a big, hot sun. Sometimes, we had to stand in the sunshine. Sunshine is hot. Also, the sun got the fat geeks sweaty even quicker than usual.

So yeah. Lots of waiting. Over an hours worth. I think maybe two. Sometimes, people in "Enforcer" shirts would come around and yell things that only a few people heard. Maybe they were telling us how things were supposed to work, that people who were pre-registered should go to the front of the line. Maybe, I guess I'll never fucking know. Seriously, the only thing out of their mouths that I understood were, "Did you get that?" and "Pass it on." To be fair, no one in our group went to the front of the line to see what was going on. No wait, DWraith went up and asked someone what was going on, she yelled at him.

Oh yeah, near the beginning of the 'line experience' a dude with a video camera came around doing interviews. We all got interviewed. Well.. not so much Carla, she thinks video cameras steal her soul. Not so much steal as cut it out and sell it on the black market, leaving her in a bathtub full of ice. The question was, "What game are you most looking forward to?" We all answered Halo2. If they ever put out a PAX video, look for us. We'll be the most attractive people on it.

We eventually got in. There were a lot of people. The place was swarming. The exhibition hall was already packed. Playable on the floor were Conker: Live and Uncut, Mechassault 2, Forza, Jade Empire, Fable, Matrix Online, Rainbow 6: Black Arrow, and Doom 3. Of those, all I played was Conker. There was almost always a free seat. All the other games had lines at least three geeks deep. Conker was good. Gorgeous. But the multiplayer seemed a bit off. The levels were too big for the amount of people playing. I spent a lot of time wandering around the nice looking environs. Non-playable appearances by: Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory, the new Ghost Recon, and a video of Prince of Persia 2. They all looked good. The Frag Dolls were also supposed to be good looking. The Frag Dolls were a team of quasi-attractive females who competed in Rainbow 6 tournies and demo'ed the Ubisoft games on display. Their demoing consisted mainly of crouching, standing up (in the game, it would have been nicer if they had done it in real life) and zooming their scopes in and out. Woot. But I heard they were quite skilled at Rainbow 6. I never did see them in action. I was entered in one of the tournaments, but I was stuck waiting in a line when the time rolled around.

Here's some quick math for you: around 1337(oh, the irony) people pre-registered, around 3700 actually attended. There were around 40 demo units. That's one unit for every hundred people. That ain't cool. There will be more math later.

We checked out everything else in rather short order. The console room was smaller than the exhibition room, and filled with all sorts of consoles. There were a lot of people there who were better than I am in my dreams. Stupid dreams. It too was overcrowded. The PC room was smaller than the console room. I ain't a PC gamer, so we didn't spend much time in that room at all all weekend. The bottom floor, or 'basement' was where the boardtop games were. Fitting.

Carla was kind of disappointed by the lack of stuff to do. Me too. I reckon that'll improve next year. Hope there's more than just Microsoft stuff next year.

With nothing much to do, we got some seats in the auditorium for the Penny Arcade Q and A. More quick math: the auditorium only seated 410. Remember how many people were in attendance? Slightly more than 410. In fact, the panel was delayed a slight bit, as there were too many people in the auditorium, sitting in the aisles and such, and we had to wait as they got cleared out.

The panel was fantastic. Those Gabe and Tycho fuckers is funny. The panel started with them receiving a bunch of applause and hollering (with some hoots thrown in for good measure), then they abruptly threw to a cartoon? "hey, wanna see the cartoon we made?" Riotous Applause. "Okay, here you go." The Cardboard Samurai cartoon was pretty decent. Very flashy. In the sense that it was obviously made using flash. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Not that flash is gay.

After the cartoon, they opened it up for Q&A. Being as I waited to goddamn long to write this shit up, I forget most of all the good nuggets and morsels. A lady in the audience asked why Gabe didn't like Sonic Heroes, his response, "What's wrong with Sonic? Why can't I play as Sonic?" That got applause. Hell, everything they said or did garnered applause. Twisp and Catsby were created with the sole intention of not being liked. That kind of backfired. They sold the publishing rights to PA to some guy who then moved to Alaska. They would really like to sell out, if given the opportunity. Gabe: "you could send all your letters bitching at me about to selling out to Gabe at Sandy Beach. I probably wouldn't read it though." About the process of writing the comic: "We just surf the internet, riffing on everything we see until one of us laughs. Then we're like 'Shit, should I write that down?"

You know, this stuff doesn't read as funny as it was in person. I guess you had to be there (or go to the forum about this very topic). Laughing at Gabe and Tycho as they stalked about the stage, never stopping, always moving. Wondering what was under the black throwcloth. It was a surprise. Not to be revealed until the end of PAX.

After the panel was over, we all got booted out. Carla and I, and I'm sure a fair amount of others, were planning on staying right where we were so we could see the next panel. The Red vs. Blue panel. This was not to be. A line for the RvB panel started forming as soon as the PA Q&A started. There was no chance we were going to get back in. Crappy. If we had known that we couldn't sit for both, we probably would have given this one (the PA one) a miss. Just because RvB only happened on Saturday, the PA Q&A was scheduled for both days. But really,
there was no guarantee that we would have gotten in on Sunday.

The organizers were nice enough to show the panels on all the TVs throughout the convention centre, but you couldn't really hear much of anything. Which kind of sucked. So we went for lunch. We got back just as the RvB thing ended. The dudes were selling DVDs. It was crazy busy. We figured we'd wait until it died down a little and then go grab ourselves a season 2 DVD. We were fools. DVDless fools. I wandered around the convention centre for a bit, starting to come around to Carla's way of thinking. There just wasn't all that much to do. As I was wandering, a Frag Doll asked if I wanted to sign up for a Black Arrow tournament. I told her I wasn't that good. She countered with "Trust me, most of the people we've played against aren't either." Plus she mentioned that there were prizes. Okay then sign me up. For a tournament for a game I've never played before. Whatever.

I went back and found Carla, who was waiting in line for the next panel. How to Break Into the Industry, I think. I waited in line with her, then waited in the auditorium with her. I wasn't going to stay for the panel though, the Black Arrow Tournie was about to start. I was going to get on the escalator to go up to the console room when I saw that the line for the evening concert had already begun, and it was already quite long. Fuck. Leaving all hopes of winning prizes behind, I took my place at the back of the line. Made some small talk with some of the geeks around me and watched the line grow and grow and grow. It was halfway across the basement floor when someone somewhere had the great idea of handing out tickets for the show, so we wouldn't have to wait, in line for the next two hours. That's right, the line for the bands started at least three hours before the bands were to take the stage. I tried to get two tickets, but they weren't having any of that. I told them the other one was for my fiance, the girl handing out the tickets didn't seem to care. I hope she dies childless and alone.

So I ran into the auditorium and appraised Carla of the situation. She ran from the auditorium and managed to get herself a ticket. Thank God. But man, this was turning out to be a gong show. Only slightly more than one out of every ten pre-registered people would get in to see the Mini-bosses (and friends). Not that only pre-registered people were eligible for tickets. I'm just saying that a crapload of people were going to be upset.

Once word got out that only people with tickets were going to get to see the concert, and that all the tickets were already given out, a crapload of people got very upset. The announcements, you see, were not broadcast within the auditorium, and were not very audible in the rest of the building. I'm surprised people didn't come to blows. I mean that both ways, people kicking the shit out of other people to get their tickets or sucking cocks to get tickets. The tickets were in high demand. There were people with signs wandering around, begging for tickets. "Terminally Ill, please give me your tickets" and such. It was interesting to watch the maladies grow more and more severe as the starting time grew nearer.

We watched all this from the line we were standing in. Even though all the tickets had been given out, this was now the line for getting good seats.

Was the show any good?

I think it deserves it's own entry.

Busy Lazy Life

I don't really do much of anything anymore, yet I always seem to be busy. I dog-sat my dad's pug again this weekend, which involves driving out to Regina Beach and back all the time. Dad's Audi is a very nice car (much better than mine, which no one trusts to make it out there and back on a regular basis), but the CD player irks me. The random is just too random. It'll play a whole CD then one song of a different CD and then go back and play the whole first CD again. Irksome. And you don't want to be futzing about with an irksome CD player whilst driving in the middle of the night, overly tired, with deer prancing out from the damn bushes.

The dog's eye goop, as ever, was disgusting.

On Saturday, an old high school/uni acquaintance got married. The wedding was nice. Over real quick, and full of people to mock. Plus I got to dress up in my new clothes. I didn't get mocked. Which is rare. I liked it.

As I drove out to feed the dog and back, Carla and James got stinking drunk. James was screaming at random dogs on the street. Dude can hold his rye, beer and gin, but red wine knocks him on his ass. As for Carla... she wouldn't agree, but I think that beer was a mistake.

We went out for dinner. Carla and James were loud, Trev, Kim and I were embarrassed. Then the food came and James left. Good times.

The reception had too much country music, but cheap booze, so let's call it a draw. Better than a draw, to be fair. Got to catch up with some old freinds I hadn't seen in ages. They all had babies. I always did think they were sluts.

When you're in Regina Beach, wondering where to eat, may I suggest Cafe De Rosa. Really good paninis, and the owners all look like hippies. Not old hippies, those are depressing; but hippies younger than I. I really liked their beards.

Dad and Dianne went on their trip with another couple from Regina Beach. Their son was dog sitting, I went over to his place on Sunday for a barbecue. It was nice. Good food, free booze, pirated porn, political talk and ruminations on why we aren't famous yet.

Then I went back to the cabin, at around two in the morning, and played Burnout 3 until 8 in the morning.

I'll try to cut down on my Burnout 3-ing and finish my PAX report. And maybe reivew Burnout 3 for my other site.

Super West Coast Trip part 2

We woke up and helped ourselves to the complimentary breakfast. With free eggs!! We should have showered first. It's been less than two years since we last hostled, how could we have forgotten? Always shower first! While waiting for the showers to free up, we met a couple of fellow Canucks down for the PAX. They were nice. Of course I forget their names. One reminded me of Kevin Smith. We also found out that the annoying guy from last night was a roommate. Another roommate was a real friendly stoner. He had long blonde dreadlocks and was debating on whether or not to go barefoot for the day. We suggested he wear something on his feet.

Something I forgot to mention about yesterday: as we were sitting in the common room, a whole lotta people riding bikes zipped by, ringing their bells and yelling. As they rode by someone (out of our range of sight) whipped a water bottle at one of the bikers, hitting him in the head. Luckily, the person on the bike didn't wipe out.

We had planned on catching the bus to Bellvue with the other Canadians, but one of their number was lagging a bit behind, so we left. We caught the bus without any problems and spent the majority of the ride talking to a nice guy who used to live in Bellvue and was going back to bartend at a friend's wedding. He was also half Japanese, and had been to Japan a few times. What's crazy is that until he mentioned that he was half Japanese, I never would have guessed it, but after he mentioned it, it was completely obvious. Weird how that works. His voice was raspy and cool and he was full of good advice. We got off the bus and hiked a few blocks to get to the hotel. We later found out that we could have waited a few stops and gotten off much closer. Oh well. We might have missed the cosplayers if we had. We passed a Sophitia along the way. Also, I'm pretty sure we saw Gabe and Tycho walking to the convention centre.

Checking in was a breeze and we got free cookies. Almost as good as free broccoli soup and eggs, but not quite. The room was nice; on the main floor, spacious, the T.V. had HBO , and there was a nice view from the balcony. There was also a main traffic artery just behind, blocked actually, by the nice view. I couldn't see the cars, but I could hear them. Carla and I changed into some cooler, lighter clothes. The weather was heating up, and I imagined that the convention centre would be full of sweaty geeks. I also plugged in my GBA, as I had just about drained it on the trip down yesterday. I would live to regret my lack of Game Boy Advance later in the day.

I need to get my lovely and talented fiance to show my how to post, or at least link to, pictures in this blog. I have some pictures of the weekend, and they sure would help break up all these boring words.

I thought I would wrap up this trip in three parts, but I reckon now's a good a place as any to stop for the night. My next entry will probably deal exclusively with waiting in the line to GET IN TO the Penny Arcade Expo. Which is fitting, because line waiting figures prominently into the whole experience.

Shopping

I sat around today and did get much of anything done. Other than play a lot of video games. Not that I played a wide variety, I mainly focused on two: Day of Reckoning and the new OXM demo disk. I made a Strong Bad in DOR. He still needs some refining, but that is half the fun of a decent create-a-whatever... you're never finished, there's always something you can fiddle with. But I didn't set out to talk about Day of Reckoning, that's what STUFFS is for, I just wanted to blog real quick before I went to bed so that I wouldn't forget about the lady we saw tonight while out shopping.

Carla and I went shopping tonight. I didn't really want to, as I was feeling lazy, worthless and greasy (my shower didn't take), but I went anyways cuz I'm a trooper. And I'm glad I did, cuz there was this lady there... I don't quite know how to describe her... It's not like she had growths or was hideously malformed, she was just... burgundy. Her skin was the colour of wine. I have never, ever seen a person with skin the colour of hers. I don't know if it was the results of tanning gone horribly, horribly wrong or what.

All I know is that I will never see another human being EVER with the same skin pigment as hers. I wish I had had my camera with me. And was a either rude enough or sneaky enough to get a good, clean, close-up shot of her.

Also, Terry Gilliam is shooting a movie here. Crazy, man, ker-azy.

People Are Great. People Suck.

My brother was playing some Rainbow 6 on XBox Live yesterday, when he recieved a friend invite from on of the guys I stood in line with at PAX. I talked to DWraith and The FunkyFist for a bit. They are really nice goddamn guys. I'm glad they took charge of the situation and sent the invitation to ME, cuz I haven't been on Live since I got back from our trip. The trip that I am currently writing a different entry about. You know what? Fuck it. I'll just chop my trip recap into a few pieces, I'll post the first bit right after this one.

Yeah, talking to those PAX guys was great, made me wish I had gotten more people's GamerTags...

I didn't actually get to play online with them though, cuz: a)I don't own Black Arrow and b)I had a movie to get to. Carla, myself, Trev, Kim and James finally went and saw Hero. I was quite looking forward to it. And was disappointed. I found it to be a little boring. It looked very, very pretty. GodDamn beautiful is what it was. There were shots in there that I just fell in love with. I'll be picking up the DVD just for them. But the rest of the movie was... just... kind of... meh. I didn't really get involved with the characters. I liked the whole Rashamon style story thing, but I didn't like that that meant that all the fight scenes involved the same people fighting in the same styles over and over and over again. Trev said it best, "There's only so much spinning you need to see."

Plus there were some real fucktards in the audience. After a trailer for Taxi, a movie starring Jimmie Fallon and Queen Latifah, a mental giant behind us opined "They probably showed all the best parts." If you have not seen the trailer for Taxi, let me assure you that there were no best parts. After a scene where Jet Li moves so fast, he ran through drops of water as if they were just hanging in the air and then stabs his foe, some guy way in the back wondered aloud: "What happened? Did the water kill him?" I was suprised he strung together that many words. To be fair, water DID kill his father. After a woman fatally stabbed her lover and let out an anguished scream, some guy in the audience laughed out loud. Really loud. I just wanted to stand up, walk back to where the shithead was sitting and punch him in the fucking face. I may not have liked the movie that much, but... grrrr!

In conclusion: most people can go to hell.

As can the spell checker.

West Coast Super Trip part 1

Crap man, this happened two weekends ago, and I'm just getting to it now. I thought I'd be less busy after Japanese class, but that hasn't happened yet.

Carla and I jetted off to Vancouver on the 25th of August. It seems that you have to apply for your Japanese working holiday visa in person. You also have to make up a resume and write an essay and plan out a detailed itinerary. For my Australian working holiday visa, I applied over the internet. Easy as. Basically, I just had to prove that I had enough money to get there and back and they were like "She'll be right, mate."

So we went to Vancouver to apply in person. Also to visit with Carla's brother, my friend Eric and my newly transported to Vancouver friend Nate. The Visa application was a joke, I have no idea why it had to be in person. We basically handed the clerk our stuff, he confirmed a few details and that was that.

That's okay though, that just gave us more time to bum around Vancouver. We did some shopping and a lot of eating. There is so much freaking sushi in Vancouver it boggles my mind. My mind is still somewhat boggled, actually.

Caught up with everyone: Eric is still studying. He is never not going to be a student. Darren is about finished his degree. And Nate is involved in some citywide water gun assassination thing. {UPDATE: Nate hurt his neck or somesuch and had to drop out. His roommate is still in the running, even managed to avoid an assassination attempt. Go roommate whose name I forget, possibly John!}

But the Visa thing and the visiting of people weren't the only reasons we head out to the coast. No, we had other business further south. Down there in the Americas. The first ever Penny Arcade Expo. How often does a person ever get to attend the first annual of anything? How could we not go?

Actually, when it was first announced, we had no plans on going. I liked the thought behind it, but the pot was not all that sweet. But then those fuckers just kept adding cool shit. The musical acts are what did it for Carla, Halo 2 was just icing on the Carrot Cake. The playable demos were the milk poured over the cut up carrot cake. Lack of funds and desperate need of what funds were left for our Japan sojourn be damned!

So we hopped on a Greyhound bus and headed for sunny Seattle. It seems the god damn west coast has stolen all the prarie's good weather. I got more of a tan in Seattle and Vancouver than at the cabin. That ain't right. But back to the bus: we were a bit worried about crossing the border. Not because of our side business of being drug mules, but because we had to surrender our Passports to the Japanese consulate. I was okay cuz I always carry my birth certificate with me. For when I doubt my own existence. But Carla left hers at home. Would we make across the border to the land of milk, honey and free healthcare?

Yeah. With no problem whatsoever. We checked into our hostel: the Green tortoise. Seemed nice enough. Looked like a hostel. After dumping our crap, we poked around the neighbourhood. Saw Pike's Market. Big. Lots of people. Smelled of fish. Didn't buy anything. Except for Peroshkies. Which aren't perogies. They're Russian pastries. Pretty okay, but the apple cinnamon roll was the highlight of the snack.

Also bought some international junk food. Marzipan tastes like... Crap I forget what I thought it tasted like. That'll teach me for waiting two weeks before writing shit up. It tasted like some kind of liqueur. And I forget the names of the other stuff we tried. One was like wine gums, but much chewier, not an improvement. The other was a plain chocolate bar with a great slogan "NOT for GIRLS" I let Carla try it, just because I don't like being told what to do by packaging, which is also why I only ever lather once. Repeat my ass.

Our hostel had a free dinner: all you can eat baked potatoes and mashed potatoes and broccoli soup and some sort of rice. All really good. Best broccoli soup I've ever had, and I'm not trying to damn it with faint praise, it just kind of works out that way. Some nice girls sat at our table before, during, and after our meal. There was an American girl whose name escapes me who was going hiking and camping up North. Then there were two Japanese girls Misako from Tokyo and Misa from Osaka. I get the impression that there is a rivalry between those two cities. So we talked about various things, stuff to do in Japan, how much work sucks, how much traveling rocks, and so on.

Then this... Not a man, but no longer a boy asked if he could sit with us. Sometimes being nice polite Canadians bites you in the ass. This was one of those times. I don't have a brain for names, so I also forget this kid's name. He's nineteen, took a little Japanese in high school (but doesn't remember as much as he thinks he does), draws, enjoys improvisational acting and photo taking. He was keen to show off his new camera, but had problems getting out of the packaging. I think maybe he was trying to dazzle us all with his worldliness, and his renaissance man-itude. But none of us were, we were to polite to ask him to leave, but none of us were enjoying the conversation with him in it. Luckily: free beer. They had tapped a keg at the reception desk, so we all bolted for the brew. Thank god the legal drinking age in the states is so stupidly high. It felt weird being carded tough, it's been so damn long. I didn't usually get carded when I was underage. Not like my friend Trev who gets cracked all the time, usually by people at least half a decade younger than him. Oh how we mock him.

Misako seemed to be a little ticked that she had to show I.D. She really wanted to drink. There was almost a rumble. Luckily cooler heads prevailed. Heads cooled by beers. The Green tortoise was turning out to be a pretty cool hostel. Except for that guy. He found us out on the patio and talked at us some more. He asked the Japanese girls who their favourite Sumo wrestler was. (for those of you who don't know: Sumo isn't all that popular in Japan, especially with younger girls). He then asked them if they've ever wanted to kill a boyfriend. Because boyfriends cheat, although he would never cheat on them. The talkative, non hint-taking jerk drove us away from our free beer. That takes talent and determination. We went to bed early. Fucking jerk.

So ends part 1...

Join me for the somewhat exciting middle part and boring conclusion!!!

I like Carla's Laptop

I do. I can blog on it. And hopefully edit my films on it soon, too.

"Meh" or "Insert Stupid Dragon or Oar Pun Here."

This Labour Day weekend, I partook in my first Dragon Boat race. And second. And third. The Dragon Boat Festival is a yearly occurrence here in Regina (but not just here, I hear that they have Dragon Boat races and festivals in other cities and countries. Who knew?). The company Carla works for thought it would be a good idea to enter a team. Build company spirit and all that. So of course I got myself volunteered. My asthma has been acting up as of late (and I let all my medication run out. All part of my 'ignore it and it'll go away' approach to healthcare), and Carla gets seasick very easily (remind me to tell y'all 'bout the time Carla used up all the seasickness bags on our trip to the reef. Also, remind me to stop using so God Damn many parentheses!).

Where the fuck was I? Right. An asthmatic and a seasick cutie were about indicative of what our team brought to the table. According to the rules every member of the team had to attend two practices. Most of our team members averaged one. Yep.

Also, Dragon Boating is hard. It's not much like canoeing. I can canoe. I've canoed in every hemisphere this wacky ole globe has to offer. But Dragon Boating is less about arms and more about abs. And back. Not my strong suits.

Now that I've set the table, let's cut to the chase: we didn't come in last. Our goal WAS to come in last, and we failed even at that. Which seems fitting. We came in last in our first heat. And in our second. But there were stupid jerks in other races who were worse than us. Our third race was against those other losers and we aimed to lose and lose hard. And we succeeded. We just about rammed another boat. Serves 'em right, they booed us. Fuckers.

What did I learn during our day of Dragon Boating? I learned that puns involving dragons or boats or oars or paddles are even less funny than normal puns. I learned that I quite like African cuisine. And I learned that I don't much care for Dragon Boating.

Also, I sunburned my massive forehead.

Technology Blows

So I can't unpdate Netscape cuz I don't have OSX and I don't feel like poking around Microsoft's Explorer webpage until I find the ghetto where they keep their Mac stuff. So I don't think I'll be blogging much from my computer anynmore. Luckily, I have access to others.

Almost Done

Had my Japanese final Speaking and Listening test today. Didn't go that bad. Not bad at all. Now I just have to get through the reading and writing final on Saturday (at 8 in the freaking morning!) and it'll all be over. Then I get to spend the next few days after that finishing off our rough Japan travel itinerary. And getting set for our West coast adventure. Once Carla and I get back from that it'll be less than a month untill we fly away to the land of the rising sun. Fuck. Time goes by pretty god damn fast.

Also, Zatoichi was a pretty fun flick. The digital blades and blood were distracting and there were scenes that went on longer than I thought necessary. But I reckon that is due to the whole Japanese aesthetic. Most Japanese movies have a much different pace than I am used to. Which is probably why their horror movies seem so scary. They don't conform to the usual horror "beats".

But back to Zatoichi: good.

manoman

Japanese is taking upp all of my time. It's not an easy language to learn. Hopefully I will be able to blog a bit more in a week's time.

SUNUVABITCH!!

This whole blogspot problem is getting to be a real problem. I've blogged twice since the eighth, but the posts seem to have vanished into the ether. Not that they were any good, I can't even remember what they were about. They were probably shorter than this one as well, but that ain't the point. The point is that they are gone. Grrrrr.

What I've been up to: not failing Japanese, planning trip for 2 to PAX, getting Japan trip stuff sorted out, attended an engagement party, Taste of Regina, other various sundries.

I still can't spell check my posts.

The Problem With Blogging

Maybe it's just me, but my main problem with blogging is that you have to go online to do it. "Duh!" you say, but hear me out. I cannot go online without wasting vast amounts of time, it's just not in my nature. So I might come online for the soul purpose of blogging, but there's a good chance that I will log off 3 hours later having not blogged a whit.


And here's some irony for you, I was in Netscape and I tried to type this post but couldn't. For some reason I couldn only type in the title of the post, the body setion of the post writting screen was not available to me. So I couldn't write my post about the problem with posting.

I'm realizing, just now, that there's now no spell checker. I can't type in Netscape and I can't check my typing in Explorer. Methinks it is time to get a different browser.

Also, sorry about the typos.

My Tongue Feels Like A Flaming Sponge

Today is my birthday. To celebrate, I got my wisdom teeth out. I was also supposed to have a Japanese exam, but I don't think that is happening.

My mouth feels weird. It's actually starting to hurt now, so I'm going to go.

On the up side: I haven't drooled on myself yet!

2 Posts Away From 150

But man, these things are becoming even more sporadic. Stupid busy life. Saw Dodgeball and Farenheight 9/11. Liked Dodgeball better. It didn't seem as pandering. Taking an intensve Japanese course. And going to see some Rockin' the Valley and then spending the weekend at the cabin.

I'm so, so, so behind in my blogging.

Prelude

I know that I have been somewhat lax in my updates. And a lot of stuff has happened. Saw Spiderman 2, had my last day of work, was an extra in a sci fi film, scrutineered and my dad is now a member of Parliament. Hopefully I'll get to blog all about all this soon.

But not now. It's storming out, and the dog is freaking out.

Chronicles of Riddickulous

About the title: I saw this movie on opening night and the title for this review popped into my head about half-way through the movie. Then I started seeing other people use the same pun. Not wanting to let the terrorists win, I decided to stick to my guns and use the title anyway. So there.

I liked Pitch Black. A lot. Even all the times we saw some of it in Australia (they really seem to like that movie down there) couldn't dampen my feelings towards it. It was well made, stylish, and it took advantage of its small budget. And I quite liked the character of Riddick.

So I was intrigued by the idea of a sequel.

Then I saw the teaser trailer. I wasn't so intrigued anymore.

But as I saw more trailers, my interest began to build back up. It was directed by the same guy as well, I found that to be a plus. He did such a good job with such a small budget I wondered what he would do with a massive one.

Too much, it would seem.

Pitch Black worked because of its energy and style. The story was simple and propulsive: We gotta get off this planet. Chronicles of Riddick's story is too intricate for it's own good. And it ain't that intricate. There's all sorts of political intrigue and plotting that didn't really need to be in the movie and Dame Dench's only real purpose is to get all sorts of exposition out of the way.

That's my biggest problem with the story, it tries to cram too much in. Not only that, it crams it in in the worst way possible: by having characters just talk about it. Film is a visual medium damnit. To be fair, most of my films have shit loads of dialogue, but that's their point. This is a big budget action movie, I don't need no political in-fighting. What is up with all this political bullshit in sci fi lately? Episode 1 was lousy with it, The Matrix sequels had too much of it too.

They say that a good half hour has been cut out of this movie, so maybe that extra time will help better explain the story, give it room to breathe. Seems odd that while my main complaint is there's too much extraneous crap, I look forward to seeing more of it. It's not so much that I dislike all the intrigue, I just think it was handled most inelegantly.

Which fits in with the dialogue and such. This film has some really bad lines in it. "It's been a long time since I smelled beautiful." being my favourite. What's more, its based on some really hoary old cliches. Riddick is the chosen one, the last of his race, it has been prophesized that only he can defeat the Necromongers. Yep, the Necromongers (ooooooohh scaary, eh kids?). And you know what race Riddick is the last of? He's a Furyan. And before he defeats the evil bad guy of doom, he stops off on Crematoria to pick up an old friend. Crema-frikkin-toria.

I got sidetracked by the stupid names. Sorry. What I'm trying to say is that the propulsive energy of Pitch Black is no where to be found in this movie. It should be, but it isn't. It should be because Riddick is a propulsive character. He's a wanted criminal, he's always on the run. Most of this movie moves forward due to him running from bounty hunters or being taken somewhere by them. But the old energy just ain't there.

Even the action scenes are a bit lackluster. Riddick barely ever uses his ole' shiny eyes thing to his advantage. Once, right near the start, to be exact. And that fight in the dark is a quickly edited piece of crap. The intent might have been to show the chaos that Riddick is capable of causing, but it didn't work for me. The opening scene where he turns the table on his pursuers worked well. And the big fight on Crematoria was very well done and stands apart from most other fight scenes I've seen the last few years. The sound effects kind of fade away and the music takes centre stage. Twohy and his editor take the fight scene into the realm of the montage here and it works. Roger Ebert said the fight scenes in this film have no sense of space or location, but I think he's just getting old. Fuck man, he liked the Garfield movie and admitted to laughing at Family Circle (circus?)

So how does it look? The visual style of this film is easily its best attribute. If the Roman empire never collapsed and just kept spreading through the galaxies, it would look a lot like the Necromonger's empire. It's a different look, full of mean looking faces and such and I liked it. All the planets had their own distinct looks, and none of them sucked. All the ships and such looked both cool and feasible. And run down. Which is always cool. Which George Lucas forgot somewhere along the way.

And of course Vin Diesel looks cool. Riddick is a bad mother fucker and he looks the part. But Diesel edges real close to self parody in this one. I liked the Riddick in Pitch Black more. Maybe cuz Pitch Black was rated R.

In summation: looks nice, some good action, some bad dialogue and too much story.

If you liked Pitch Black and want more, play Escape From Butcher Bay instead.

Miss You

I have a problem. Not a big one. Fairly small, really. Inconsequential some might even say. I cannot seem to hold on to a pair of nail clippers for any prolonged amount of time. I always misplace them. Or my brother steals them.

Also, I do most of my nail clipping at my computer, for that is usually where I notice that my nails need to be clipped.

I mentioned once to Carla, as we chatted on the phone, that what I needed was to chain some nail clippers to my computer. So before Carla left for Newfie Land, she gave me a pair of nail clippers with a little chain.

She's a keeper she is.

I thanked her for the gift and put it in my pocket and kind of forgot about them there. Then as I was fishing for my keys after work, my fingers brushed against the nail clippers and I was filled with happiness and joy and love and I missed Carla so completely I thought I might cry.

She can't get home soon enough.

Procrastastic

I've been meaning to blog since about Tuesday. But, obviously, I have not. I have not been in the best of moods. My job is basically done. Which I find oddly saddening and maddening in equal amounts. I mean I had planned on taking a year off from work starting around now, so it really couldn't have worked out better for me. But. But.... But I don't like the thought of being replaced by a machine, of being made obsolete. I was working when they packed up the hard drive that will take the place of me and four others. About the size of a 20" TV. That bothered me.

What also bothers me is the fact that the traffic and promotions people (the people in charge of making sure all the shows get filled up with commercials and such) are so upset about losing their jobs. I'm good at my job, therefore I have reason to be upset about losing mine. They suck. They are horrible. They are incapable of doing their jobs with any small degree of competency. They should have been jobless years ago. Fuck them. Fuck them in their stupid asses.

See, that's me being bitter. Grrrrrr! (picture me scowling and shaking my fist) I don't mean to be quite so bitter. But Carla is in Newfoundland, so that makes me a sad panda. Put these two things together, and man o man, this week is full of the suck.

I know! I'll end this post and star a new one, a happier, more uplifting one.

Hrmmmm...

I said I was going to be more thorough in my movie reviews and then I write a couple little reviews that go into no real detail at all. Now I'm going to try to rectify that.

However, I'm not going to touch on the Maddin films. Because they are too dense, too visual and abstract. Too out of my league, is what I'm trying to say.

Harry Potter is a different story, because it's a story. It's based on a book so at the very least I can talk about the differences.

The problem with the first two Potter movies is that they were too faithful to the books. They crammed in as much as they could for no reason other than it was in the book so it should be in the movie. Columbus was so busy making sure he played all the notes that he lost track of the music.

The problem with Azkaban is the opposite. It loses too much good stuff from the book. The origin of the Marauder's Map and the relationship between Harry's parents and Lupin and Sirius and Snape and... the guy. These revelations helped Harry learn a lot more about his parents and the situation he finds himself in.

I have no idea how well the film works, story wise, for those who have not read the book. I can only say that I noticed the absence of the above and fervently hope that the scenes were cut for time and will appear on the DVD.

Luckily the film has many other things going for it. This is the best looking film of the series by far. And its not because its the latest film and has the newest effects. It's because the effects are better integrated into the film. A lot more effort has been put into making this world seem "real". And the effects follow suit. Compare Fluffy from the first film with Buckbeak from this one. The first was much too cartoony and played more for laughs than menace. Buckbeak is, in actuality, not nearly as imposing a creature the Cerebus. But, in the film, Buckbeak seems more menacing because it seems more "real".

This film is not afraid to be scary. The dementors have a great look to them. They look freakier than the Ring Wraiths from those movies with the rings. The fight between dog and werewolf near the end has a nice bit of brutality to it as well. The werewolf looks fairly fake, but at least it looks different than most other movie werewolves.

And the acting is better in this film as well. The children are much better in each of their roles and the adults are exemplary as always.

Really, when the only real complaint about a film is that I wanted more of it, that not too bad a complaint at all.

There. Way more words. I feel better.

Not Much Has Happened

Saw a few movies, and that be about it.

The new Harry Potter film is my favourite of the series. Mainly because they hired an actual film maker to helm this installment. The difference between this film and the last is like the difference between the work of an artist versus the work of a guy who paints houses. Nothing wrong with painting houses man, but it just ain't art.

The little touches in this film: the way the whomping willow ushers in the seasons, Harry playing with his wand under the sheets, these are things Columbus would have never even thought of, and the add so, so much.

Guy Maddin's Dracula: Pages From A Virgin's Diary was good. I like the fact that Maddin is not afraid to make silent films, but films without dialogue make me sleepy. It's a scientifically proven fact.

So I liked The Saddest Music in the World quite a bit more than Dracula. There was talking. And singing. And colour. Maddin can't make un-interesting movies. Not even if he tried. I don't know if any moment of any of his films will ever top the fat father strangling an enemy soldier with his (the father's) own guts, but that is a pretty hard act to follow. Saddest Music has plenty of arresting visuals, and plenty of humour and plenty of just about everything good.

And that's that.


Oh. And the spell checker doesn't recognize Dracula.

Wherein the Rules Are Laid Out

So that is the first chapter in a hopefully much longer tale. As far as I can tell, there's no real easy way of having the story part of my blog be readily accessible so any new additions shall always be entitled "Wherein yadda yadda yadda". I hope that works.

About the story. What is now on this blog had been written by me years ago for Carla. We were provinces apart, so we did the regular long distance type stuff; we talked on the phone all the time, emailed each other lots as well, sent each other gifts, all that good stuff. We also kept diaries for each other. When we saw each other in person, we'd exchange diaries so we'd have stuff to talk about.

There's only so many times a person can write "I miss you" before it loses all meaning, so I filled up parts of the diary with short stories. The one with Lucky was the only one that could feasibly be expanded. In fact I planned on it going on a lot longer in the diary but... Here, I'll just transcribe what I wrote immediately after the short story:

"I had originally intended for this short story to be much longer. You didn't get to meet Lucky's horse (who goes by the name of Peaches) or the evil bugs that plague the old west of the future. I had all sorts of cool shit in mind when I started out. A few pages in I realized that I suck @ writing stories. I'm not nearly descriptive enough. So I cut the whole thing short. Pretty depressing. A wannabe writer who has trouble with a 6 page short story."

I was stupid. I thought that you needed to use a lot of words all the time when writing a "proper" story. But I read a lot during our trip across Oz and I learned a lot. I learned that you don't need to use a lot of words if you use the right ones. Hell, the first Fletch book is so sparse in its style that I had to re-read a passage to try to figure out what just happened. And I liked that. It worked. Wordiness is not a virtue.

And re-writing the story in chunks like this helped me find the "beats" of the story, helped me experiment with its rhythm. Plus I turned some of the turns of phrase into something slightly different, hopefully better. At the very least, this will be an instructive little exercise.

More on the story: Lucky is based on a character that I used to role play. I know I'm a horrible, horrible geek. I won't mention the names of the games I played him in, but he spanned a few genres. So I took the games, plus my own ideas and just sort of smashed them all up for this story.

That's all I have to say on the subject for now. Remember look for "Wherein" in the title for more of the story. I have the beginning of the next chapter roughly plotted in my head, but beyond that... We'll see.

The End of The Beginning

Lucky reached over to the fat, dead, standing man and removed his bandana. Luckily, the bandana had remained bullet hole free. Lucky wiped the gore off his face and made a point of not looking at the rag when he was done. He stepped over to Stretch, squatted on his haunches, took Stretch's hat, and stuffed the wadded up bloody bandana into his screaming mouth.

The screaming became muffled, but it didn't stop. Worse still, Stretch was feebly trying to remove the obstruction in his mouth with his one good hand. Still on his haunches, Lucky searched all the dead men's pockets. Confirming his hunch, only Dave had anything of worth on his person. Wads of cash. Figuring the dead Dave had no need of such wealth, Lucky stuffed the bills into his own pockets.

Stretch was still vainly tugging at the fabric in his mouth. Lucky stood up and stretched, looking around the room as he did so. The bottle of tequila he was looking for had, Lucky sadly noted, smashed on the floor. Presumably from when he had had his argument with gravity.

Stretch managed to get a bit of the rag out of his mouth, his screaming got that much louder.

Lucky slammed his heel down hard into Stretch's throat. Spur first. The screaming stopped. Lucky walked over to the bar, handed Hector what he hoped was a large bill and said, "That's fer the mess and two bottles o' tequila. Courtesy of my old friend Steve."

Hector looked as if he was going to say something, but then reconsidered. He handed Lucky a much nicer bottle of tequila. Lucky took it with a smile and sauntered to the saloon door. He put on Stretch's hat and was not surprised at all to find it a perfect fit. He turned to face the room and tipped his hat.

"Ma'am." he said and then slipped out into the storm.

Peanuts

It took me longer to read this book than I expected, and that is a problem. I devour books. When I like what I'm reading, I have a hard time stopping. Read The Great Gatsby in the span of an afternoon. And I started out on this book in the same fashion. I chewed through half of it in two sittings, alternating between the strips and the profiles and interviews at the back of the book (both very interesting and illuminating). I only ever stopped because I had to go to work or I was dead tired. I was loving it.

The illustrations were familiar yet different. You can tell that these came from Schultz's hand, but these were the very first, there are still years of tweaking and refinement to go. And I think I like this early stuff better. It's cuter. The lines seem a bit thicker. And Snoopy is just a puppy. A cute little puppy. With no thought balloons. Those come later on in this volume. And there are characters in this first volume who later disappear. A girl named Violet, a boy named Sherman. About the only character other than Snoopy who sticks around is Charlie Brown. There's no Linus, no Peppermint Patty, no Marcie. Schroeder and Lucy don't appear until about halfway through this volume. And about halfway through this volume is where my interest started to wane.

Not because of Lucy or Schroeder, but because the writing seemed to change and the art definitely did. The lines became thinner, and wow does that make a difference. For the worse. Coupled with the cuter, more obvious humour, it made finishing the book more of a slog than I thought it would be. The writing, right from the very first strip had an edge to it, there was sweetness, but it was tempered with meanness and loneliness. The characters talked about universal and existential truths. That seemed to go away.

I'll pick up the next volume, unless I'm out of the country, but if things don't improve that might be where my collecting stops. Too bad, man, I loves me my Peanuts. Or at least I did.

It's Alive!! A LIVE!!!

So the internet is finally working in our house!!! Our phones won't be fixed until at least Monday though, so it all evens out. So now I have no excuse for not finishing up the first chapter of my story, nor for not blogging in general. Wait... I'll have excuses, but they won't be real reasons. "I was on LIVE and lost track of time." will probably be the main excuse.

I spent a couple hours on Live today and had a pleasant experience. I never came in last, which is always nice. I place in the top five a couple times. And yes, there were more than five people playing. I got to hear people bitch about how unfair certain weapons are. People really don't seem to like grenade launchers. I do. My best rounds were due to those glorious bastards. I like to use incendiary rounds, because they not only blow people up, they set them on fire as well. I'm not sure if the people who complain about grenade launchers as unfair have ever played using them. You only get three or four shots and that is it. And You have to reload after every shot. But whatever. I killed people, made people laugh, listened as people talked about the drugs they were doing right at that very moment, I think I had the quitisential (I'm sure I spelled that wrong but the only suggestion the spell checker gave was "kitchenette") Live experience.

But man, there are a lot of stupid gamertags on Live. I say anyone who has a drug reference in their Tag should automatically be banned, because DAMN are they annoying. Every. Single. One.

But I'm not here to be bitter, I'm just happy that I'm finally back online.

3 Day Delay

This whole X Box Live thing is getting to be a big damn hassle. This house, I am becoming convinced, hates electronics. And normal natural laws don't work here. I've been trying for weeks to get the two house computers and the Xbox all hooked up via a hub. It wasn't working so good. The annoying thing is that it sometimes worked. But not others. For no reason.

So I figured Fuck It. Just get a router. That should solve everything. Found a flyer from London Drugs saying they had a nice router on sale for 40 bucks. Can't beat that. So I go there at nine this morning. There's a line up. About twenty people. They had one router in stock. One fucking router. Grrrrrrr.....

Also, the BLog Spot spell checker is one of the worst I've ever encountered. If I were to type electonics, a reasonable person would take it that I meant electRonics. Fuckin spell checker gives me 17 options, electronics not being one of them. Happens all the damn time. Pisses me off. Not as much as London Drugs right now, but it's pretty close.

Without Our Permission

It figures. It's been forever since I've seen The Daily Show, and when I make a point of watching it tonight, it is a repeat. Still funny.

Went through a bottle of gin on the weekend. I believe that's one of the signs of a good weekend. I forget the other signs. One of them might very well be boobies. Yeah, I'm pretty sure boobies are good.

After waking up on Trev's couch on Sunday morning, we went out for breakfast. Mamma Mars'. It was cheap and good and bottomless coffee. And there were colouring books. So we, three graduates, spent a good long time colouring. I like colouring. Especially with almost new crayons, before they are all dulled and broken in half.

Also watched some movies on the weekend. Saw a bit of Matrix Reloaded on Friday, it looks SO FAKE. I was wowed by the effects (not the movie) in the theatre, but they've really aged poorly.

Saw A Mighty Wind. Good stuff, as are all of Guest's films. Some of the jokes fall flat, but way more don't and they zig and zag all over the place. And always filled with interesting characters. Plus Eugene Levy just rocks.

28 Days Later made me tense. As good horror films should. I liked it. I liked the fast zombies, the fast zombiefication process, and that the film still knows when to take its time. Plus there was a happy ending, even though I'm not sure how I felt about it.

I should really go into more depth when I review things. I'm going to make a point of trying to do that from now on.

Girls Can Lay Pipe

Yeah.

So I need to post more. Especially since I've been working the graveyard shifts at work this week.

To be fair, I also rented Knockout Kings for the X Box, so that's taken up the bulk of my time at work. Yeah, it's a hard life, I know. Either blog or play games at work. Life is full of the difficult questions. I look at it this way: if someone had just been hired to do my job, they would have next to no free time. I'm just so very good at what I do that I can do it all in a much shorter time.

Man, do I love Knockout Kings. It's brutally good. It just feels good to duck under a punch and then land a good solid hit to the chin, to see your foe's limbs go limp as they fall to the canvas, to pummel your opponent's limp body as they try to fall down but are stuck in a corner(my record? 2 hooks, 2 uppercuts and a jab. I giggled like a schoolgirl as I did it). Or, the best of all, the lucky hit. The punch that downs an enemy even though he had plenty of fight left in him. My record? One punch. I downed a man, a heavyweight champion, with one punch. My first punch.

I should really get the first chapter of my short story finished. Just a little chunk of words left. Maybe tonight.

Also, I bought River City Ransom for the Game Boy Advance SP. I'm a little disappointed. I loved River City Ransom for the NES, and I was tickled pink by the thought of having a portable version. Of having a version that worked, really, since my NES is long since dead. But the best part of RCR, its dented raisin as it were, was the 2 player co-op. There is no co-op for the SP version. Upsetting. Especially since the same company that is releasing RCR also just recently released Double Dragon and it had co-op. It's still a fun game, but damn. I didn't even check to see if co-op was an option when I bought it. Why would it ever be released without it?

Soon I will review that Peanuts book. But I've written more than I meant to all ready and my freaking back is killing me.

My back hurts all the time now. Especially when I even think about going to the gym. I think my body wants to stay flabby. Stupid body.

OW

We (Trev, lil Kim, Carla and myself) went to see Thornley on Friday. Good times. The opening band was forgettable except for the fact that they looked like they were still in high school and the lead singer looked remarkably like someone we used to know.

Thornley himself was fantastic. He rocked out the whole freaking time. He rocked so hard, he blew the voice right out of my throat. My voice is gone. It's three days later and my voice is still gone. That's how hard he rocks. But I'm going to stop writing now, because my throat hurts.

odds n sodds

I apologize for my lack of stuff lately. I've been a bit busy, but not so busy as to not blog for 11 days. My brother was in town for a week, so we shot that script I had written. Well, to be more to the point he and I acted whilst Kelly Toth directed. Kelly runs a pretty easy going shoot, so Ry and I tossed out ideas, but basically left the directing to him. It was good. I'm glad Kelly was the first to do the directing, because he's a lot like me. He made mistakes I would make, but since he's made them, I don't have to. Hopefully.

And we got chased from a couple locations by security. Yeah. This was a very low budget shoot. One camera, no lights. Dogma-esque if you will. We didn't ask permission for most of our locations and that ended up costing us a bit. We managed to get everything shot, though, minus a few pick-ups here and there. There were a few one take shots though, so I'm interested in seeing how well it all edits together.

And there are a lot more scary people down town at night then I thought. We thought about doing some shooting there, but chickened out.

Ry, myself and Carla went to dad and Diane's for supper and I finally saw some of the Godfather. Still haven't seen the whole thing. I really should. I loved the bit that I saw.

Other than that Ry and I didn't hang out to much which I regret. I'm not so good at talking to family members. I was a withdrawn kid and I can't seem to get past that even now. I didn't tell Ry how incredibly fucking proud of him I am. He floors me. I am one of his biggest fans. See, even now I'm tempted to just delete this whole bit because it's making me uncomfortable.

But him being here for that little bit was all just part of this weird feeling that's been hanging over me for a while now. I look at him and see all the success he's all ready had and will have and I wonder about me. I'm talented, I feel like a prick for saying it but it's true. But I am also profoundly lazy, which is unfortunate. This blog, and the short story are attempts to help me get used to writing more. The movie we shot over the course of a day and a half was to help me, and Kelly, and others to get back into the habit of DOING. Of MAKING. Of CREATING. It also made me want to act more. And I feel good about all of this.

But I'm also always afraid. Of not amounting to anything. Of failing. Of succeeding. It's very annoying. Plus I have always had these dreams of success and so on (I'm sure everyone does) and the older I get the more these fantasies seem to mock me. I'm getting old. I can feel it. I feel old. I ache. I can see it in my face. I've had a lot of dreams lately about loosing my hair. Carla tells me it's starting to go grey. Good God.

I was going to write good grief to segue into talking about Peanuts and the book I just bought. But I didn't, but still managed the segue just fine. SO I bought the collected Peanuts, from 1950-1952. I quite like it. I really fits into this mood of mine. Cute and cruel and funny and deep and everything all mixed together so much that you don't know quite what you're feeling. I'll write more on the book once I've finished it, but I can heartily recommend it.

I think I'm done for now.

E3

So me and Kelly are all sorts of busy, trying to figure out how we're going to get this film of ours done. We shouldn't be wasting our time on anything else.

But...

It's E3 baby!! That's right, THE videogame event of the year. Where everyone brings their big guns. And I gotta say, I am overcome with joy.

I love Nintendo, always have, always will. Last E3, I was a bit worried about them, but I think this one is all theirs. Sure, there's the Half-Life 2s and Halo 2s and Fable and all sorts of other really great games. And there's the PSP.

But nothing makes me smile more than the new Zelda footage. Or reading about all the crazy new games for the DS. There's a version of pacman, that... I can't explain it. You draw the game. There's a first person shooter that uses the stylus as part of the control. I am just overjoyed. And I ain't the only one. Tonnes of forums are filled with cum covered geeks right now, basking in the afterglow of Nintendo press conference.

I am a happy, happy lad.

Of course, I will be out of the country when all this good shit goes down.

Also... remind me to talk about the PSP later. I ain't gonna do it now. Don't want to ruin this good feeling I got.

Story stuff

This isn't more of the story. Just letting you know that I changed a couple lines of the last bit of story. Can you guess which ones?

Nearing the End of the beginning

Lucky stared at the three men and the three guns they had pointed at him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said to no one in particular.

"Why not, baldy?" asked the long and lean and stupid one.

"It ain't proper." said Lucky, looking squarely at Steve.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucky could see the bartender reach under the bar. "Hold your horses there Hector. Me and my friends are just talking here. Ain't that right fellahs?"

"Nah. You're talkin. We're shootin." said the tall one again.

Even though his death was looking to be eminent, Lucky felt absolutely no fear. In fact, he began to smile. He hadn't felt this good in days. Of course, he couldn't remember anything from before he woke up a few minutes ago with a nose bleed. And he had felt pretty damn good when his head was in Jane's lap. Still, this moment was pretty alright.

"When was the last time you cleaned that thing, stretch?"

"What're you talking about?"

For some reason, the word Willis popped into Lucky's mind. And for some reason this one word made him laugh out loud.

Stretch didn't much like being laughed at. He didn't much like being called Stretch either. He pulled the trigger (on his gun that had never been cleaned). The gun exploded, taking most of his hand, a good chunk of his belly, 3 teeth and some lip with it.

Before the incisor fragments could hit the ground, Lucky's gun was out and blazing. His finger never touched the trigger. He fanned that bastard.

Five slugs hit fatso square in the chest. He didn't fall over, though it looked like he might for a little while. He just stood there, chins resting on chest, and bled out.
The penultimate bullet tore the gun out of Steve/Dave's hand. It slowly arced through the air.

With a laugh of delight Lucky spun his revolver around and around a few times before slipping it back into it's holster. "Now we're going to get to the bottom of this." thought Lucky, mind racing. "How can you be alive, and a Steve, Dave? What are we doing here? Where did I learn to shoot so good?"

All these questions were racing through Lucky's brain when Steve's splattered all over his face.

The Fates had a weird relationship with Lucky. Most folks, after seeing him in action, would call him blessed. All his dead friends and relatives would likely have a different opinion.

Steve's gun had flown out of his hand fully cocked. It completed five full rotations before it hit the ground. Hit hard. Hard enough to jar the hammer. Hard enough to slam it home, which in turn caused the bullet to slam into the back of Steve's head. Had the barrel been pointing a smidge or two to the right or left, Steve would have been just fine. A little bit lower and the bullet would have passed through his shoulder and into Lucky's head instead.

The three non shot people just kind of stood there for a while. Hector sweated, Jane marveled at the fact that she remained blood free, and Lucky dripped. He watched a few red drips of blood collect into a drop at the end of his nose before he realized that Stretch was still alive. Alive and screaming.

Crud

I can't seem to get my new bit of story to publish. Blogspot has changed their interface a little. A lot, actually. And I think that might be the problem. I had written most of the text down already, back before the new Blogspot interface. I tidied a few things up and hit publish post. I've done that many times now. It's just not showing up on the page. Bothersome.

Second Verse, Slightly Different Than The First

So it's been months since I have had a full, uninterrupted night of sleep. I always wake up some time between 3 and 5 AM. I don't always manage to fall back asleep either. This morning was no exception. I was up a little before 5. So I tried to fall back asleep. No dice. Instead of lying in bed, trying, nay spraining my brain in attempts to get back to sleep, I did stuff. I went to the gym. I did laundry. I got stuff done. Yay me. But now I am felling very sleepy.

Yet Still More Beginning

He sauntered over to the little lady on the stairs. She looked at him, shook her head and then looked over his shoulder. Lucky stopped in his tracks. Something bad was coming. Something bad was just about here. Lucky shook his head, trying to shake loose the dread. Not a good idea. About as good an idea as drinking Tequilla on an empty stomach. The world tilted without warning and Lucky lost his balance.

His head ended up in the girl's lap. Lucky tried to think of what her name might be. "Jane." she said. She ripped a loose piece of cloth off her dress and placed it under his nose. "You're leaking again."

"Thanks." Lucky debated as to wether or not he should stick the fabric up his nose, or if that would be uncouth. He decided to just dab at his nose. "Is there a mirror around here?"

"No. Don't worry, you look fine. But you won't for long if you don't get out of here soon."

"Too damn late for that."

Lucky looked up to see a trio of shapes step in from the storm. There was a tall, lanky, stupid looking man with a hat too big for his head, a fat, bearded man with a shirt too small for his gut and then there was Dave.

Lucky grew up with Dave. They were good friends. Then Dave had been shot to death right in front of Lucky's eyes. Needless to say, Lucky was confused.

"That's not the Dave you knew. That Dave is long since dead. This Dave is not Dave, he's Steve." whispered Jane.

Lucky had never met a Steve he liked. "Now darlin', what have I told you about whispering sweet nothings into dead men's ears?"

"It ain't proper."

"That's right."

Lucky still hadn't met a Steve he liked. He stood up. Three guns were trained on him as he did so.

Blurg

My brother and his troupe made another quick stop in town this weekend. That was nice. I got to visit with him for a few hours which is something we haven't done in quite some time. Talked about film and theatre and wrestling and all sorts of stuff in between. Gave him the script I had just finished writing. He might be back in town in a couple of weeks and we're going to try to shoot it. Hope it all comes together.

Been working the day shift at work, which is something I very rarely do. It makes me tired. I'm not used to being up this early. I still can't manage to sleep through the night. Always get up around 3 or 4 in the morning. Sucks.

That's Right.

I work shift work at work. Work. I'm also tired all the time.

That's right, my sleep schedule is all messed up.

I planned on going to bed at round half past midnight last night.

That's right, that didn't happen.

Yesterday, I had more than half of Battle Royale still to read.

That's right, I read it all in one great gulp of text. Staying up until six in the god damn morning.

That's right, I'm an idiot.

Still More Beginning

Lucky grabbed the bottle from Hector's (he looked like a Hector) grubby hand. He took a swig, trying not to think of where this particular bottle had been, or what other lips it had touched.

He leaned up against the bar and examined the saloon more intently. It was a very large room. There were fifteen big tables (six fat men could sit and eat at these tables comfortably) spread unevenly throughout the room. There was an old player piano in the corner. Even from across the room Lucky could tell it hadn't been in use in quite some time. It was covered by a thick layer of dust, and there were two bullet holes right where the pianist would sit. Across the room from the piano was a set of stairs leading up to the second floor landing. There were a few doors leading, presumably, to a few bedrooms. A flimsy looking handrail went up the stair and along the landing. It had obviously been repaired more than a few times. And not very well.

A girl sat fanning herself on the stairs in spite of the general lack of heat.

Lucky smiled around the bottle and decided he should get a closer look.

Her leggings, dress and gloves were all tattered and worn looking, but her face was anything but. Gorgeous would be a good word to describe her. She was gorgeous. She looked worriedly from Lucky to the front doors and back again.

Lucky turned his gaze to follow hers. "Looks like a storm's a'brewin'." said Hector. Not much was visible beyond the saloon doors except a whole lot of swirling dust.

"Ayuh." replied Lucky as he spat another red glob to the ground. It almost landed on his boot. Above the boots, Lucky was clad all in black. Black leather. Even his duster. He pulled the duster back to reveal two guns, one on either hip. Lucky had never seen guns quite like these. They were the old style of guns, the old, old style. With the cylinders. Except these guns held seven shots each. The metal was almost white, and so shiny it seemed to glow. The handles were inlaid with a deep black wood that was delighfully cool to the touch. If Lucky hadn't looked at these guns, he might never have known he was carrying them. So perfectly weighted, he couldn't feel them on his hips. "Giddy-up." he smiled.

All Work and No Play Makes Homer Something Something

I's the boy that builds the boat, and I's the boy that sails her. I's the buy that catches the fish and takes 'em home to Lizer.

I'm working on the short story here. I'm working at Global ten days straight. I have to have a twenty-ish minute script done by Saturday. And I'm reading Battle Royale. Whew.

Weird Weather

Gale force winds on the weekend. Nearly twenty on Monday. Snow today.


Huh.

The Beginning

He awoke with a nose bleed. That was never a good sign. Nose bleeds always came before something bad. Lucky toyed with the idea of just going back to sleep, hopefully avoiding the shit storm that was obviously headed in his direction. But he was, and always had been, a light sleeper. Once he woke up, he was up. Plus the coppery taste in his mouth was slowly seeping down the back of his throat making Lucky feel particularly unpleasant.

He opened his eyes, raised his head and took in the unfamiliar surroundings. He appeared to be in a saloon. A real, honest to god, old west saloon. Just like in all those "movies" he had watched years ago. Everything was made of wood; (except, of course, for the nails. And all the glass) the tables, chairs, floor, ceiling and everything in between. Lucky could name most of the different types of wood used in the construction of this place (Maplebark and Laughing Oak and the bar, the deep red unpainted bar had to be made of Thrice Dead Wallow). He had no idea how he knew that though. Lucky lived in an environment of metal and glass (more truthfully of plastic made to look like metal and glass), he knew not of any Oak. Laughing or otherwise.

That's not true, screamed a part of his mind, you grew up in a small village made of wood.

His mind occasionally did this. Once this voice in his head started it wouldn't' stop until he was filled with self-doubt and conflicting memories, rocking rocking back and forth on the ground in the fetal position. Not a good way to spend the day. Lucky knew of only one way to stop his mind's incessant nattering.

He caught the barkeep's eye. "Tequilla." he said in his morning voice. "Keep the glass, leave the bottle." He spat out a large chunk of phlegm and blood. It hit the sawdust covered floor in the shape of that creepy cartoon rat's head. The sawdust started sucking up the blood and the three circles spread out into a blob shaped blob.

Lucky made his way slowly over to the bar. His heels jingling and jangling as he did so. He stopped short of the bar and looked down at his feet. "...the hell?" He was wearing cowboy boots. Fucking cowboy boots. With spurs and everything. "fuck." Lucky was pretty sure that he had once said that he would shoot himself in the head if he ever wore cowboy boots. He looked away from the sorry spectacle that was his boots to find the barkeep holding out a grimy bottle.

"You sure you need this?" asked the greasy one eyed man. There was an evil looking scar where his left eye should have been. The pale pink of the scar stood out in stark contrast to his dark, dark skin.

"Have you seen what I'm wearing?"

Just So's Ya Knows

I'm going to start, sometime soon, to post a story here. I figured it might be more interesting than reading about what I had to eat yesterday. Unless I ate a small Cajun boy. THAT would be more interesting than any silly little story. You have been warned.

ReCap

Walked in the MS walk on Sunday. Then ate some pizza and hot dogs to counteract the physical activity. Then watched some Bride of Chucky(they cut out the best part, the exploding best friend) as we (Carla and I) prepared some Jerky and some Korean Bar B Que.

I'm Old

Bought the new Maxim mainly for their annual hot 100. I actively dislike many of the girls contained within. Janet Jackson used to be attractive, but isn't any more. That Hilton wench turns my stomach. Nicole Ritchie even moreso. And I don't care how big her boobs are, they don't make Jessica Simpson attractive. Just because they are on T.V., that doesn't make them good looking.

And Another Thing

I forgot to mention that Johnny Knoxville plays The Rock's sidekick. He's there to be funny, but isn't. Except for the scene where he and another guy get into a shotgun fight. That was about the only thing in this movie I hadn't seen a hundred times before.

I have a hankering to see the originals. I should get on that.

Walking Not All That Tall, And With Kind Of A Limp

The Rock needs a hit man, and this flick ain't it. I mean, I thought The Rundown was a hit. Out of the park. A throwback to those eighties action films I loved when I was younger. But it wasn't a box office smash. It deserved to be, but was not. Neither is Walking Tall. Which makes sense because Walking Tall is not a good movie. Not by a long shot. The script is almost laughably weak. The Rock's big impassioned speech in the courtroom is neither big nor impassioned. It doesn't get the audience all riled up, ready to kick some ass with righteous fury, it made me roll my eyes. The action scenes also made my eyes roll, if only because I couldn't follow what was going on. Once again, it seems as if the director had no real idea of what he was doing and neither did the editor. Just a bunch of shots that have been shot too close smashed together with a rawkin' score. And a film like this is all about the action, so it's rapid descent in the box office is understandable.

And the bad guy sucks. Never, for one second do you doubt that The Rock is going to kick his ass. The film tries to make him seem like The Rock's equal by having him cheat to beat The Rock in a confusingly shot and edited game of pick-up football. Yeah. It didn't work. Nothing really would have made this guy menacing. He looks to much like the bad guy from Happy Gilmore.

The only good thing about the movie is The Rock. He's so god damn charismatic. He just needs to find a better film to be in. And he better do it quick, before he ends up the next Segal or Van Damme.

This is why I love the Internet

"I have once again plastered the cieling with my man-jam.

You'd think I would run out, except that my gonads are actually quantum singularities that lead to a parallel dimension comprised entirely of semen."

Finding a quote like that makes all the hours of reading stupid crap in forums worth it. Now to work that bad boy in to conversation somehow...

Busy Couple O' Days

I did manage to see Kill Bill volume 2. Much different than volume 1. So much so that I wonder if the complete change of pace between the first and second half will work when it's watched as one long film. The again, the films change and switch and flip between so many styles and moods and tones that it will all work out just fine. I get the idea that Quentin knows what he's doing. He knows that he's going to piss people off with these movies, so he doesn't waste any time doing it. In volume one he had the Shaw Scope followed by the 70's Feature Presentation followed by a Klingon Proverb. In volume 2 he has a long black and white take in front of a clearly rear projected background of Uma spouting some pretty damn arch dialogue. Both beginnings made me smile like a goon.

There is not nearly as much action in the second volume. Add it all up and it wouldn't amount to a quarter of what was seen in volume one. A lot more dialogue. And I ate it all up. I love the Superman monologue. I love Quentin's obsession with feet. I love how he shoots things. Supersaturated. Everything glows. Even Budd's trailer in the middle of nowhere looks glorious. To be fair, I thought the final show down would last a lot longer. You'd think it would take at least as much screen time as the Crazy 88 fight. If you add in all the talking they do before hand, then maybe they'd match up. It's like fighting but with words. Except The Bride doesn't get to fight back all that much during the verbal sparring. She doesn't get to fight back much at all in this movie. Mainly she gets kicked around. Shot, buried alive, beat up, shot, shot, and so on. Not to say that I think that the people who decry all this violence against The Bride as misogynistic or anything like that. Only stupid people would think that. Stupid people who would have no problem with all the violence if it was perpetrated on a man. Which strikes me, and maybe it's just me being silly here, it strikes me as racist. You can't abuse women, but fuck the guys over as much as you want. That ain't equality. The hero of a film, especially revenge films is only as great as the obstacles they have to overcome.

By that criteria Hawksley Workman's show on Saturday was his best ever. Because I enjoyed it in spite of all the stupid fucking people that surrounded me. My god. My Fucking GOD!!! I really fucking hate people sometimes. I hate people who go to a show and then spend the bulk of it talking loudly instead of enjoying said show. Right behind me. Or people who poke me in the ribs or the ear for no good reason. I wish to god I was making this shit up. But Hawksley brought his AAA game and was absolutely incredible. I don't know how to describe such a show, y'know. A movie, you can talk about the writing, the cinematography and so on. Here, he played nothing but songs I liked, and played them the best I've ever heard them. His interactions with the crowd were amusing. Umm... he did two encores... see, I ain't so good at the live show reviews.

Speaking of which, did I ever review my brother's play? He didn't write it or direct it. He was Titania, Queen of the Faeries in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Best production of it I've ever seen. Wow. And that's my review of that.

Bubba Ho-Tep was exactly what it said it was. In a nursing home somewhere in Texas Elvis and a black JFK team up to defeat an ancient mummy who is sucking the souls out of the old people through their asses. Yep. It's exactly that. I'm so totally biased, but Bruce Campbell was fantastic as Elvis. He didn't play him with a wink. He played him straight. The movie was sweeter than I was expecting. Cuter. And it took it's time. It's not a long movie, under ninety minutes, but it gives the characters and the story time to explore each other. Man I loved Bruce in this. He looks totally like Bruce, but at the same time an elderly Elvis. The mummy looks like a poorly lit generic monster, and the flying bug looks beyond cheesy. And it all worked.

I Better Fucking Cheer Up

Didn't get much sleep last night and I am full of ill temper and rage today. Seriously, this is one foul fucking mood. And now it looks like I won't get to see Kill Bill v 2 today. That ain't gonna help things.

Scary

The last few nights, as I try to go to sleep, I freak myself out. I keep thinking to myself as I walk in to my room, I think how freaky it would be if when I turned off the light I would see a human shaped shape crouching outside my window. Or, when I get under the covers I think how unnerving it would be to wake up in the middle of the night and see the shadow of the same thing cast onto the opposite wall. Yeah. I don't like when my brain thinks such things.

jaslk

Not much has happened lately, but I thought I'd pop in because tomorrow is just packed. Going to see Hawksley Workman in the evening and Kill Bill v 2 in the afternoon. I imagine I'm going to need a big bag of superlatives to describe it when next I blog.

Also, went to the comic store today. I had a little time to kill after applying for re-admission at the University. Might be taking a Japanese course over the summer, donchakno. The girl who worked at the desk was pretty cute. One of Cara's sculptures was displayed in the vestibule. These are asides. What I meant to mention is this: the new Punisher one shot is pretty good. The End I think it's called. And it is. It's set in the future, so lots more Punishing can take place but I can't think of a better ending for the character. Yep.

And All Was Right With the World

I now have internet access at home again. YAY! But now I have no excuses for not blogging. Unless the dog were to eat the hub or something.

Let's get updated. I'm sick. Have been for a couple days now. Started off with that horrible burning sensation on the roof of my mouth. Now I'm coughing and sneezing a lot. And my mouth always has the slight taste of snot in it.

Saw Hellboy. Enjoyed it. Actually, I really liked it up until the final act. After Liz went all crazy Broadway style on all the Samael I thought the movie just kind of fell apart. Having the climax of the movie be about Hellboy choosing to remain "human" or not was weak. Hellboy seemed the most human out of anyone else in the movie. It didn't seem like much of a choice. Like the Daredevil movie, I think they tried to cram too much cool stuff in. But yeah, up until that point I had no problems with the show. Everyone and everything looked great. Rasputin's tomb was totally ripped out of the comics. It made no sense, and that's why I liked it. Ron Perlman WAS born to play Hellboy. Just superb. I've heard complaints about how Hellboy's quips weren't all that funny. Here's the thing: they're no supposed to be. Hellboy isn't all that quick. He's not the brains of the operation. He's like a plumber. Instead of fixing leaks he combats nightmarish creatures. But his approach is the same. To Quote Fred Flintstone's lamp, "It's a living."

The other problem I had was with the villains. The crazy no-eyes all blades dude whose name is not coming to me right now was cool. But Ilsa had nothing to do. If she was uber-hot I could understand. But she wasn't. And Rasputin just wasn't all that menacing. And the Evil Cthulu-esque abomination that springs from his corpse came totally out of left field.

I recommend the movie, if only for its design. Good movie, but not great. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, now THAT"S a great movie. Kate Winslett looked amazing in this film. I could totally understand how Jim Carrey's character fell for her. Which is kind of important for a film like this. It's a romance movie that takes place after the romance is done. Kind of. It's about the memory of romance. Is the joy worth the hurt. It's about other stuff too, and is jam packed with interesting ideas and fabulous shots and sequences. It made me feel good.

Carla and I rented Tsui Hark's Vampire Hunters, mainly because a guy she knows worked on the effects for the film (or something like that). I fell asleep within ten minutes.

MicroFuckingSoft

So I hooked up my Xbox to the interweb. Cuz that there free offer was about to expire. I got it all hooked up. I can now go online and shoot people. I haven't yet, but the OPTION is there. Somehow, getting the Xbox online has caused my computer to not go online. So yeah. I'm writing this at work. And now it's time to go.

Cat Soup

Tried a couple of times over the weekend to watch Cat Soup. Never did get to watch the whole thing. Kept falling asleep. Which just might be the best way to watch this film. Not trying to say it's a bad film, more like it's already WAY dreamlike. Here's a f'rinstance: a little cat and his sister are adrift at see in a boat with a pig. The boy cat poops off the side which attracts fish. The pig catches the fish and offers them to the cat. The cat instead strips the skin off the pig, revealing different cuts of meat. He grabs one and fries it up. He gives a portion of the fried pork back to the pig who eats it.

Crazy stuff, man. I really dug it.