Aboard a rickety swiftboat, my family and I braved the jungle depths, slowly floating towards the very heart of darkness and a stark examination of the thin line between rational thought and ravenous hunger. Our mission: to find tabled seating away from the cybernetic gorilla. Claire is deathly afraid of the bionic mongoloid, to the point where she does nothing but quiver in her seat, food untouched and dinner conversation unheard. I covertly attempted to get seated next to the gorilla for this very reason, but Wifezilla insisted we NOT deliberately scare our little girl.
While dining at The Rainforest Cafe, one does not blanch at $9 hamburgers or $6 kid-sized mac 'n cheese. Jungle exploration comes not cheaply. $4 of that $9 hamburger goes towards juicing up that elephant head so it can periodically flap its ears and raise its trunk. To the delight of safari patrons engorged on surf 'n turf, baby-back ribs, and icy smoothies with cleverly entitled jungle motifs. If you're too cheap to pay the ambiance tax, Chili's has a roughly equivalent menu sans the hided robots and blistering light show.
While puttering down that Amazonian-like river, my mouth stuffed with a medium seared New York strip and the Viet Cong placidly firing machine-guns from ashore, I looked around our table and wondered why people who didn't have kids were at this restaurant. I was currently eating the food there and could vouch it not good enough to dine there if you didn't have to. I nearly mustered the bored resolve to ask a nearby childless couple why they were there rather than at a real restaurant. But I had finished all my steak. My shrimp, grilled and fried, was long gone too. With all the blood in my body conventioning in my stomach, my brain went blissfully offline and I lost all interest in the dining motivations of my fellow safari explorers.
Until I got the bill. Coincidentally, the assembly-line jungle comes alive when I open the faux black leather receipt carrier and spy the grand total. The tiger growls, the chimp gibber, the gorilla pounds his chest, the elephant trumpets, the father whimpers "The horror . . . the horror."
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Filthy Nest of Vampires
I cleaned out a den of vampires this morning.
I'm still working on my mage guild quest line in Oblivion. The Count of Skingrad has information the guild needs but he won't divulge it until I do some work for him. Quid pro quo, the bastard.
It seems a gang of vampires moved close to Skingrad, overtaking a den almost within site of the city's walls. A place known locally as, appropriately enough, Bloodcrust Cavern. The Count isn't just inconvenienced by the newly arrived blood suckers. Vampire hunters got wind of the new arrivals too and they're stalking the city's streets looking to stake them some undead.
The twist in all this? The Count is a vampire himself.
He explains that he wants his kind and the mercenaries who hunt them wiped out so as to not draw attention to himself. He's ruled Skingrad for hundreds of years. The local population attribute the Count's longevity to magical prowess, maybe even a minor dabbling in some dark art. The Count boast he could easily take care of the hunters and vampires combined, with one hand tied behind his back, but can't risk exposing a cover he's developed for decades. So he's dangling information I need as leverage to solve his nascent vampire problem.
I agree, of course, because I need that information. The vampire hunters skulk about town day and night in search of the undead, so I track one down. Turns out he's the leader. He's querulous at first, but when he admits to hunting vampires, I tell him the whereabouts of the vampire den. The leader departs to gather the rest of his Vampire Killing Task Force. Meanwhile, I mill about town for a few hours or so, biding my time, anticipating that the VKTF might just get all the dirty vampire killing work done for me. At which time, I'll politely ask them to leave town or burn them to a crispiness reminiscent of overcooked bacon.
I arrive at the den and poke my head through the planked door. Down the hall, I notice a body lying still on the rocking floor. I cautiously approach. It's a dead vampire. As I hoped, the hunters made their way to the den and are in the middle of cleaning house. Or den as it were. Suckers! Two passageways split in either direction. I take the right. As I move down the sloping hall, I hear the clang of parrying metal and the curses of heated battle. I listen for time but then I hear a gurgling death rattle and the game messages me that the last hunter perished.
Nothing but filthy vampires left.
Turns out they're five spread throughout the cavern. Some I take out in single man-to-blood sucker combat, others double team me. I often flee out the cavern door to the broad expanse of the outdoors. The vampires follow through, but I have more room to maneuver under a blanket of stars. Some of the battles are pitched to a degree that leaves me fatigued and low on health. But I prevail ultimately. The lewt is excellent, a nice mixture of magicked blades and dwarven armor. I gather what I can carry and make my way back to town.
The Count congratulates me on my work ethic and loose moral code and relays the information I need for my guild. It's not yet dawn and all the shops remain closed. I leave the Count's fortress and make for the local inn where I wait for sunrise. When the sun makes its anticipated appearance, I bring my loot to two separate shops and procure a nice bit of coin.
The funny thing is, I meant to start playing the expansion, Shivering Isles but I have yet to step foot on the isles. I had forgotten what a solid title Oblivion is. The experience has me giddily anticipating what Bethesda will do for the Fallout universe. I can't wait.
I'm still working on my mage guild quest line in Oblivion. The Count of Skingrad has information the guild needs but he won't divulge it until I do some work for him. Quid pro quo, the bastard.
It seems a gang of vampires moved close to Skingrad, overtaking a den almost within site of the city's walls. A place known locally as, appropriately enough, Bloodcrust Cavern. The Count isn't just inconvenienced by the newly arrived blood suckers. Vampire hunters got wind of the new arrivals too and they're stalking the city's streets looking to stake them some undead.
The twist in all this? The Count is a vampire himself.
He explains that he wants his kind and the mercenaries who hunt them wiped out so as to not draw attention to himself. He's ruled Skingrad for hundreds of years. The local population attribute the Count's longevity to magical prowess, maybe even a minor dabbling in some dark art. The Count boast he could easily take care of the hunters and vampires combined, with one hand tied behind his back, but can't risk exposing a cover he's developed for decades. So he's dangling information I need as leverage to solve his nascent vampire problem.
I agree, of course, because I need that information. The vampire hunters skulk about town day and night in search of the undead, so I track one down. Turns out he's the leader. He's querulous at first, but when he admits to hunting vampires, I tell him the whereabouts of the vampire den. The leader departs to gather the rest of his Vampire Killing Task Force. Meanwhile, I mill about town for a few hours or so, biding my time, anticipating that the VKTF might just get all the dirty vampire killing work done for me. At which time, I'll politely ask them to leave town or burn them to a crispiness reminiscent of overcooked bacon.
I arrive at the den and poke my head through the planked door. Down the hall, I notice a body lying still on the rocking floor. I cautiously approach. It's a dead vampire. As I hoped, the hunters made their way to the den and are in the middle of cleaning house. Or den as it were. Suckers! Two passageways split in either direction. I take the right. As I move down the sloping hall, I hear the clang of parrying metal and the curses of heated battle. I listen for time but then I hear a gurgling death rattle and the game messages me that the last hunter perished.
Nothing but filthy vampires left.
Turns out they're five spread throughout the cavern. Some I take out in single man-to-blood sucker combat, others double team me. I often flee out the cavern door to the broad expanse of the outdoors. The vampires follow through, but I have more room to maneuver under a blanket of stars. Some of the battles are pitched to a degree that leaves me fatigued and low on health. But I prevail ultimately. The lewt is excellent, a nice mixture of magicked blades and dwarven armor. I gather what I can carry and make my way back to town.
The Count congratulates me on my work ethic and loose moral code and relays the information I need for my guild. It's not yet dawn and all the shops remain closed. I leave the Count's fortress and make for the local inn where I wait for sunrise. When the sun makes its anticipated appearance, I bring my loot to two separate shops and procure a nice bit of coin.
The funny thing is, I meant to start playing the expansion, Shivering Isles but I have yet to step foot on the isles. I had forgotten what a solid title Oblivion is. The experience has me giddily anticipating what Bethesda will do for the Fallout universe. I can't wait.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Shivering Isles Full Steam Ahead
I temporarily shelved The Witcher in favor of the most excellent Oblivion expansion, Shivering Isles. Rather than coast through the expansion with my original character, a heavy armored, sword packing dealer of death, I rolled a new dude. I always make custom builds in the Elder Scroll series because the game's class templates inefficiently double up on skills, rendering the class gimped and ineffective. I made my new toon the yang to my fighter's yin, a class heavy on magic with just light armor and the blade skill for melee.
I'm still not on the expansion part yet. When you roll a new dude, the portal to Shivering Isles immediately becomes available. And since the game scales your foes according to your current level, I could step onto the Isles whenever I fancy. But my fighter dude never completed the mage guild series of quests. So I'm having my new guy do that first. Once he's master of the mage guild, I'll hit the Isles hard.
After that, The Witcher. With school starting school, progress through these games will slow. Just in time for the Fallout 3 release sometime in October.
I'm still not on the expansion part yet. When you roll a new dude, the portal to Shivering Isles immediately becomes available. And since the game scales your foes according to your current level, I could step onto the Isles whenever I fancy. But my fighter dude never completed the mage guild series of quests. So I'm having my new guy do that first. Once he's master of the mage guild, I'll hit the Isles hard.
After that, The Witcher. With school starting school, progress through these games will slow. Just in time for the Fallout 3 release sometime in October.
American Gangster
Wifezilla and I watched American Gangster last night. I was mostly underwhelmed. Crowe puts in a much more interesting performance in 3:10 to Yuma and Washington has too many shots of him staring grimly off to the side. And this movie needed some masterful performances to pull itself out of mediocrity. It didn't get them.
I feel about mafia movies the same as I do boxing or sports movies. They all follow a formula, and only the great ones deviate enough to tell a truly compelling story. The mafia formula: protagonist hails from humble, low beginnings. If he isn't raised a criminal by his own family, his neighborhood does the job. Through ambition, ingenuity, and brutality, he climbs the ranks. He makes a name for himself. He eventually takes a big risk of some kind, like taking out a competitor(s) or discovering a new angle on old graft, and ends up at the top. He's flying high here, reaping the fruits of his ill-gotten gains: money, cars, mansions, etc. While out-on-the-town, he spies a beautiful woman across the dance floor. He woos her. They get married, or not. They're happy. For a time.
It's at this point he begins to get complacent, sloppy even. At the top, there's nowhere to go but back down. He or one of his associates makes a key mistake. Rivals try to muscle in on his territory. The cops close in. His wife/girlfriend starts whining and complaining about his job (haha, I always laugh my ass off when they do that). And then in the end, he either opens fire in the midst of a glorious gun battle or quietly ducks his head into a patrol car. If he's not dead at this point, the movie ends with a summary caption telling us how long he served and what he did when he got out.
American Gangster followed this to the letter. It took no chances and reaped no artistic reward. Unfortunately for Ridley Scott and company, I've seen The Departed, a mafia movie that rewrote the mafia film formula and turned out a great movie. One of my all-time favorites in fact. American Gangster opened with a caption that proclaimed what followed based on a true story. Sometimes the truth is less interesting than fiction.
I feel about mafia movies the same as I do boxing or sports movies. They all follow a formula, and only the great ones deviate enough to tell a truly compelling story. The mafia formula: protagonist hails from humble, low beginnings. If he isn't raised a criminal by his own family, his neighborhood does the job. Through ambition, ingenuity, and brutality, he climbs the ranks. He makes a name for himself. He eventually takes a big risk of some kind, like taking out a competitor(s) or discovering a new angle on old graft, and ends up at the top. He's flying high here, reaping the fruits of his ill-gotten gains: money, cars, mansions, etc. While out-on-the-town, he spies a beautiful woman across the dance floor. He woos her. They get married, or not. They're happy. For a time.
It's at this point he begins to get complacent, sloppy even. At the top, there's nowhere to go but back down. He or one of his associates makes a key mistake. Rivals try to muscle in on his territory. The cops close in. His wife/girlfriend starts whining and complaining about his job (haha, I always laugh my ass off when they do that). And then in the end, he either opens fire in the midst of a glorious gun battle or quietly ducks his head into a patrol car. If he's not dead at this point, the movie ends with a summary caption telling us how long he served and what he did when he got out.
American Gangster followed this to the letter. It took no chances and reaped no artistic reward. Unfortunately for Ridley Scott and company, I've seen The Departed, a mafia movie that rewrote the mafia film formula and turned out a great movie. One of my all-time favorites in fact. American Gangster opened with a caption that proclaimed what followed based on a true story. Sometimes the truth is less interesting than fiction.
Fitness 19
I joined a health club again. Not the Y, but Fitness 19. My complaint all along with the Y was that I was paying for service I never used, like basketball courts, swimming pools, aerobic classes, pilates, etc. Fitness 19 doesn't have any of that crap. They've got step, bike, and tred machines, free weights, and weight machines. And that's it. No less than I want, no more than I need.
The monthly price difference between the two is pronounced. I signed up with Fitness 19 for nothing down and $18 a month. The Y charges a $25 service fee and my monthly dues were around $65.
A few months back I vowed to get my weight down to 190 or so before I started lifting again. I chucked that out the door while in Minneapolis weeks back. My father-in-law bought Wifezilla and I passes to his club and we faithfully attended every day we were there. I got bored with just sweating to the step machine, so I started fooling around with the incline bench. The day I made a beeline for other free weights and I've been going steady on them ever since. I still do a cardio workout every other day, it's just not the sole focus of my new fitness regimen.
Unfortunately, I'm not losing any weight. In fact, I'm gaining. I was around 205 and now I'm at 207. Muscle weighs more than fat so lifting weights is going to nullify any weight loss plans I had. I knew when I prematurely started lifting again that I was essentially kissing 190 goodbye. A small price to pay I should think since I likely would have grown bored with just running or stepping and risked quitting exercise all together.
I haven't been doing any straight bench press since I've started lifting again. Instead, I'm doing only incline bench for my main upper body workout. I combine that with military press and some shoulder weight machines to better focus on the very top of my upper body. Once I'm happy with my shoulders and upper chest, I'll start working some straight bench press back into my routine.
This is all pie-in-the-sky during the summer. My concern is how consistent I'll be once school starts up again. I obviously won't be able to go everyday like I have been. My goal is to go Saturdays and Sundays and at least one other day in the middle of the week. Two if I'm feeling motivated. That would three to four times a week which would be great over the long haul.
I tell you though, I'm really going to miss my man-bosoms. Email me for a beautiful collection of Manziers, a wide assortment of colors and trim.
The monthly price difference between the two is pronounced. I signed up with Fitness 19 for nothing down and $18 a month. The Y charges a $25 service fee and my monthly dues were around $65.
A few months back I vowed to get my weight down to 190 or so before I started lifting again. I chucked that out the door while in Minneapolis weeks back. My father-in-law bought Wifezilla and I passes to his club and we faithfully attended every day we were there. I got bored with just sweating to the step machine, so I started fooling around with the incline bench. The day I made a beeline for other free weights and I've been going steady on them ever since. I still do a cardio workout every other day, it's just not the sole focus of my new fitness regimen.
Unfortunately, I'm not losing any weight. In fact, I'm gaining. I was around 205 and now I'm at 207. Muscle weighs more than fat so lifting weights is going to nullify any weight loss plans I had. I knew when I prematurely started lifting again that I was essentially kissing 190 goodbye. A small price to pay I should think since I likely would have grown bored with just running or stepping and risked quitting exercise all together.
I haven't been doing any straight bench press since I've started lifting again. Instead, I'm doing only incline bench for my main upper body workout. I combine that with military press and some shoulder weight machines to better focus on the very top of my upper body. Once I'm happy with my shoulders and upper chest, I'll start working some straight bench press back into my routine.
This is all pie-in-the-sky during the summer. My concern is how consistent I'll be once school starts up again. I obviously won't be able to go everyday like I have been. My goal is to go Saturdays and Sundays and at least one other day in the middle of the week. Two if I'm feeling motivated. That would three to four times a week which would be great over the long haul.
I tell you though, I'm really going to miss my man-bosoms. Email me for a beautiful collection of Manziers, a wide assortment of colors and trim.
Monday, July 28, 2008
The Witcher or Shivering Isles?
Now that I'm done with Mass Effect, I'm torn on which game I should tackle next. I don't think I'm even a quarter the way through The Witcher. Like Mass Effect, that game tells a great story, though not quite as polished as Bioware's sci-fi epic. I finished Oblivion a long time ago, picked up the expansion, Shivering Isles, but barely explored its juicy content. In addition, I want to continue side-playing Mass Effect; my new toon looks like Gwyneth Paltrow and she's mean as hell. She's already made three NPCs break down and cry.
This is a good problem to have but I have to fight the urge to try and juggle all three at once. That's what leads to not finishing any of them. I think The Witcher gets the nod because I've got more of it to finish. On the other hand, I could knock out Shivering Isles, which is shorter, and continue playing Gwyneth Paltrow in Mass Effect.
What to do, what to do.
This is a good problem to have but I have to fight the urge to try and juggle all three at once. That's what leads to not finishing any of them. I think The Witcher gets the nod because I've got more of it to finish. On the other hand, I could knock out Shivering Isles, which is shorter, and continue playing Gwyneth Paltrow in Mass Effect.
What to do, what to do.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Finished Mass Effect
I completed Mass Effect last night. The ending was epic. I got chills down my spine at the apex of the final battle.
My first go around was with the stock character. I made him a soldier, played nice with everyone, and had my paragon rating maxed out. I'm giving the game another spin around the block though. Now that I know how to use cover, I'm cranking up the difficulty this time around. I'm also going the chick route. Bitchy chick. She's going to leave people high and dry as often as she can. I took biotic techie this time.
Should be loads more fun.
My first go around was with the stock character. I made him a soldier, played nice with everyone, and had my paragon rating maxed out. I'm giving the game another spin around the block though. Now that I know how to use cover, I'm cranking up the difficulty this time around. I'm also going the chick route. Bitchy chick. She's going to leave people high and dry as often as she can. I took biotic techie this time.
Should be loads more fun.
Preview of Beta Wrath of Lich King
A 1up minion got his mitts on the beta of Wrath of the Lich King. He spends a lot of time talking about the Death Knight class. Beware of spoilers.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Bullitt
I watched Bullitt today. It's the original cop action movie with Steve McQueen as the plays-by-his-own-rules police detective who gives the finger to the chain-of-command to get the job down. The movie is most noted for its car chase through the streets of San Francisco. When I was in high school, I wanted a '68 Mustang Fastback so badly, but not because I'd seen Bullitt. I wanted that car because seeing them ripping around the streets of Minot, North Dakota, I knew it was bad-ass. I even like the new version Ford put out. I've thought about trading one of my kids in for one but have yet to go through with it. Stupid ethics.
Aside from the engaging, original car chase, I found the movie to be ponderous and dull. The movie stopped to film the strangest of common day activities, sequences that shine some light on what life might have been like in late sixties San Fransisco, but weighed down the motion picture as a whole. Like Bullitt smelling onions at a corner grocery store. If you're an anthropologist who specializes in 60s American culture, this movie is a gold mine of information, the Rosetta Stone for post-Kennedy Americana. If you're a fan of fast-paced action movies centered on a cop anti-hero, you'll be disappointed. Or at the least you'll have to readjust your expectations as you watch McQueen sniff his produce for freshness and buy whole stacks of Swanson TV dinners.
This must have been riveting stuff back in the day. And I have to admit that McQueen has stage presence. But my generation's bad-boy cop was Bruce Willis in the Die Hard series. Live Free and Die Hard further cemented my fan-boy affection for Bruce as the rogue cop. I just can't think of any actor, past or present, who does it better. Maybe Willis and the Die Hard series owe Bullitt a debt for paving the way, but they're vastly better movies all around.
Now if Steve McQueen had flown his Mustang into the side of a hovering helicopter, maybe things would be different.
Aside from the engaging, original car chase, I found the movie to be ponderous and dull. The movie stopped to film the strangest of common day activities, sequences that shine some light on what life might have been like in late sixties San Fransisco, but weighed down the motion picture as a whole. Like Bullitt smelling onions at a corner grocery store. If you're an anthropologist who specializes in 60s American culture, this movie is a gold mine of information, the Rosetta Stone for post-Kennedy Americana. If you're a fan of fast-paced action movies centered on a cop anti-hero, you'll be disappointed. Or at the least you'll have to readjust your expectations as you watch McQueen sniff his produce for freshness and buy whole stacks of Swanson TV dinners.
This must have been riveting stuff back in the day. And I have to admit that McQueen has stage presence. But my generation's bad-boy cop was Bruce Willis in the Die Hard series. Live Free and Die Hard further cemented my fan-boy affection for Bruce as the rogue cop. I just can't think of any actor, past or present, who does it better. Maybe Willis and the Die Hard series owe Bullitt a debt for paving the way, but they're vastly better movies all around.
Now if Steve McQueen had flown his Mustang into the side of a hovering helicopter, maybe things would be different.
Crash Effect
I forgot to mention that Mass Effect has a nasty habit of suddenly crashing, especially during extended dialogue with NPCs. The F6 keystroke for the game's quicksave has become my new best friend in Mass Effect, but I've had to replay at least an hour's worth of game to makeup for the binary instability.
This is the PC version, by the way. I check regularly for patches, but find none. I fear I'll finish the game before they get around to fixing the random crashes. It's a testament to the game that I put up with it.
This is the PC version, by the way. I check regularly for patches, but find none. I fear I'll finish the game before they get around to fixing the random crashes. It's a testament to the game that I put up with it.
Heart of Funness
Like a Tsumani VII assault rifle cutting through a mass effect relay, I've been tunneling ever deeper into the heart of Mass Effect. The game is outstanding, a must play for anyone who enjoys good storytelling within the trappings of a RPG. My initial complaints about the game being a twitch shooter were based on limited gameplay. Rest assured, leveling and careful skill allocations prop up weak frag reflexes.
My favorite aspect of the game is its marriage between gameplay and cinema. Cutscenes use the game's engine and couple an excellent narrative with quality voice-acting. You'll recognize some of the voice talent instantly, like Seth Green, Lance Henriksen, and Marina Sirtis. Other voices are more obscure, but good nevertheless. I'm especially grateful that the actor who performs Commander Shepard is good because his need for dialogue spans the entire game.
The sci-fi slant of the game is intriguing, as good if not better than any of the fictional universes out there. As good as Star Wars even. I know I feel that way because the Star Wars prequels were bungled so badly. Imagine what the writers of Bioware could have done with the origin story for Darth Vader. I sigh fluffy pillows of angst and regret at such thoughts. If only the Geth could invade Earth, abduct George Lucas, and reset the motion picture time continuum.
I estimate I'm only halfway through Mass Effect right now, paced to finish in the coming week or so. If you've got an X-box 360 or PC, you owe it to yourself to pick up a copy of this game. You won't be disappointed.
My favorite aspect of the game is its marriage between gameplay and cinema. Cutscenes use the game's engine and couple an excellent narrative with quality voice-acting. You'll recognize some of the voice talent instantly, like Seth Green, Lance Henriksen, and Marina Sirtis. Other voices are more obscure, but good nevertheless. I'm especially grateful that the actor who performs Commander Shepard is good because his need for dialogue spans the entire game.
The sci-fi slant of the game is intriguing, as good if not better than any of the fictional universes out there. As good as Star Wars even. I know I feel that way because the Star Wars prequels were bungled so badly. Imagine what the writers of Bioware could have done with the origin story for Darth Vader. I sigh fluffy pillows of angst and regret at such thoughts. If only the Geth could invade Earth, abduct George Lucas, and reset the motion picture time continuum.
I estimate I'm only halfway through Mass Effect right now, paced to finish in the coming week or so. If you've got an X-box 360 or PC, you owe it to yourself to pick up a copy of this game. You won't be disappointed.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
WoW 60-70 Leveling Hastened in Upcoming Expansion
A Blizzard representative confirmed that leveling between 60 and 70 will be sped up in the upcoming World of Warcraft expansion, Wrath of the Lich King.
That's good news for the 10 million deathknights about to be unleashed on WoW servers throughout the world when the expansion goes live. I can't imagine there's even one person left to roll a level one toon, so the news is moot for everyone else.
That's good news for the 10 million deathknights about to be unleashed on WoW servers throughout the world when the expansion goes live. I can't imagine there's even one person left to roll a level one toon, so the news is moot for everyone else.
Did Hellgate: London Find a New Backer?
Gamespot reports that Namco Bandai may be keeping the doors open for Flagship Studio and their ailing hybrid RPG/shooter Hellgate: London.
This bodes well for the game I should think. Like I've said before, the game's biggest problem stemmed from a badly mismatched subscriber model. I can't tell if that was Roper's brainchild, or that of a parent company. I can practically see the World of Warcraft dollars signs spinning in someone's beady eyeballs. Unfortunately, they didn't realize (or chose to ignore) that HG: L didn't offer a fraction of the content WoW's does. Nor the quality.
Hopefully someone as Namco has a bit more business acumen and can successfully dig HG: L out of this hole.
This bodes well for the game I should think. Like I've said before, the game's biggest problem stemmed from a badly mismatched subscriber model. I can't tell if that was Roper's brainchild, or that of a parent company. I can practically see the World of Warcraft dollars signs spinning in someone's beady eyeballs. Unfortunately, they didn't realize (or chose to ignore) that HG: L didn't offer a fraction of the content WoW's does. Nor the quality.
Hopefully someone as Namco has a bit more business acumen and can successfully dig HG: L out of this hole.
Penny Arcade Strip for Fallout 3
Check out the new Penny Arcade comic strip specially written for the upcoming Fallout 3 game in development by Bethesda.
Sounds like more strips will be released in the coming weeks as the game gets closer to its release date.
Sounds like more strips will be released in the coming weeks as the game gets closer to its release date.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Batman: the Dark Knight
I went saw Batman today. In an IMAX theater, no less. If you've never been to an IMAX, just picture them pointing the movie projector on the side of a three-story building. I dare say it's almost too big, though you get used to the scope quickly.
As for the movie, I liked it. People have not been exaggerating Ledger's performance as the Joker. The movie is nearly three hours long, so the director and screenwriters took their time in developing the story the way they wanted. They needed that time because the characters in this movie are complex. Some, like Wayne, we already know about. But others must fall from grace from an ethically high point, not an all-out free-fall, but instead slow, methodical pushing and prodding from events and people around them. The movie manages that fall with believability and conviction. Some tragedy too.
A common review tag line for Batman: the Dark Knight has been along the lines of, "Grim, epic, but where's the fun?" I guess they're referring to earlier iterations of the movie series, where spandexed asses suddenly bumped up against the camera and nipples were carefully spackled on to rubber chest pieces. Maybe they find it "fun" to see Tommy Lee Jones overact as Harvey Dent or Arnold Schwarzenegger apply his special brand of bad one-liners to Mr. Freeze.
Personally, I can't make myself watch those earlier versions of Batman. Maybe because I'm older I like my Batman dark, alone, vigilante. More Frank Miller, less Adam West. Yup, the vision and scope may not be the stuff of light-hearted fun; Marvel's Spider-Man series is better equipped for that. Mostly because Batman is a different hero than the likes of Spidey. Peter Parker wrestles with balancing his life as a hero with that of being a normal person. Bruce Wayne wrestles with the evil in his own soul. Batman sometimes becomes the very thing he fights in the name of justice, a proposition our friendly neighborhood wall-crawler rarely faces. It's that examination of what depths a man might plunge to bring forth the light that makes Batman: the Dark Knight good entertainment and nourishment for introspection.
Now if we can just get Christian Bale to allegedly stop bitch slapping his ma and sister, everything would be good.
As for the movie, I liked it. People have not been exaggerating Ledger's performance as the Joker. The movie is nearly three hours long, so the director and screenwriters took their time in developing the story the way they wanted. They needed that time because the characters in this movie are complex. Some, like Wayne, we already know about. But others must fall from grace from an ethically high point, not an all-out free-fall, but instead slow, methodical pushing and prodding from events and people around them. The movie manages that fall with believability and conviction. Some tragedy too.
A common review tag line for Batman: the Dark Knight has been along the lines of, "Grim, epic, but where's the fun?" I guess they're referring to earlier iterations of the movie series, where spandexed asses suddenly bumped up against the camera and nipples were carefully spackled on to rubber chest pieces. Maybe they find it "fun" to see Tommy Lee Jones overact as Harvey Dent or Arnold Schwarzenegger apply his special brand of bad one-liners to Mr. Freeze.
Personally, I can't make myself watch those earlier versions of Batman. Maybe because I'm older I like my Batman dark, alone, vigilante. More Frank Miller, less Adam West. Yup, the vision and scope may not be the stuff of light-hearted fun; Marvel's Spider-Man series is better equipped for that. Mostly because Batman is a different hero than the likes of Spidey. Peter Parker wrestles with balancing his life as a hero with that of being a normal person. Bruce Wayne wrestles with the evil in his own soul. Batman sometimes becomes the very thing he fights in the name of justice, a proposition our friendly neighborhood wall-crawler rarely faces. It's that examination of what depths a man might plunge to bring forth the light that makes Batman: the Dark Knight good entertainment and nourishment for introspection.
Now if we can just get Christian Bale to allegedly stop bitch slapping his ma and sister, everything would be good.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Book 14 Comes to Lord of the Rings Online
You can see the details here. It's interesting how the developers talk about the logistics of moving the Fellowship of the Ring around to continue driving the narrative of the epic and quest story lines. Their solution is to move the fellowship members to real-time landscape locations, but time-freeze them for previous quest-dependant locations. My attention to MMOs is waning, but this is one that I'll continue to play, at least for a while longer.
Christian Bale Smacks Mother, Sister Around
CNN reports that Christian Bale has been arrested for assaulting his mother and sister. No details on whether the assault really happened or what might have prompted it, but the timing is interesting considering the recent blockbuster release of Batman: the Dark Knight. My guess is Bale's mother and sister ganged up on him, telling him his Batman performance sucked compared to Ledger's Joker.
Holy inferiority complex Batman!
It just so happens that Rod Ryan talked about Bale this morning, confirming that the actor landed the role of John Conner in the upcoming prequel Terminator: Salvation.
Holy inferiority complex Batman!
It just so happens that Rod Ryan talked about Bale this morning, confirming that the actor landed the role of John Conner in the upcoming prequel Terminator: Salvation.
You're wrong! And You're Fired!
Michael Savage, either deliberately or without premeditation, inserted himself in the national spotlight recently by asserting that children diagnosed with autism are faking their condition and merely need some firm parenting. I don't know much about autism, but the condition seems pervasive and severe enough to go beyond just bad parenting. Like Savage though, I'm not a doctor and I haven't conducted any in-depth study of autism control groups, so my opinion on the matter ranks right up there with the radio host's.
But I don't really care about that. What concerns me is the reaction to Savage's comments. Rather than ignore him or publicly repudiate him, dozen of parents gathered together (in front of his station I presume) and protested, demanding Savage be fired.
Fired? Really?
I suspect Savage is wrong here, but I think there's room in the medical community for his opinion. The guy isn't a doctor, statistician, or scientist, in fact I don't think he has any credentials to make the statement he did. The guy gets paid to shoot his mouth off (echos of Imus here) and he opened up the big guns on autism and apparently enough people are nervous about the medical validity of the condition enough to demand Savage be permanently silenced.
Incensed parents of autism: is the answer really to quash Savage, deal a death blow to his career? For anyone who suffers to listen to an extreme contrarian point of view, is the answer to crush them rather than dismissing the source as inconsequential or engage in debate, heated even? For that matter, when was the leap made to link a person's job to their unpopular opinions? Why should they necessarily lose their employment for sensational statements? Especially if they're in the media and get paid to entertain? Imus paid too harshly for his insensitive, racist comments. He should have been punished in-house, maybe some leave without pay or a fine on his salary. But I don't like that a small group's howl of protest successfully led to his sacking. It's a bad trend where Americans learn the methodology of eliminating anyone that says or thinks something that cuts to the left or right of conventional thinking.
And so here we are again. Savage, perhaps insensitively, labels an entire group of people as fakers. That's simply not enough to warrant his dismissal. I don't think autism's status as a medical condition so fragile that it can't withstand the half-cocked statement of an average shock jock. If it is, then perhaps we should be listening more closely to what Savage has to say on the matter. It seems he just might be on to something.
But I don't really care about that. What concerns me is the reaction to Savage's comments. Rather than ignore him or publicly repudiate him, dozen of parents gathered together (in front of his station I presume) and protested, demanding Savage be fired.
Fired? Really?
I suspect Savage is wrong here, but I think there's room in the medical community for his opinion. The guy isn't a doctor, statistician, or scientist, in fact I don't think he has any credentials to make the statement he did. The guy gets paid to shoot his mouth off (echos of Imus here) and he opened up the big guns on autism and apparently enough people are nervous about the medical validity of the condition enough to demand Savage be permanently silenced.
Incensed parents of autism: is the answer really to quash Savage, deal a death blow to his career? For anyone who suffers to listen to an extreme contrarian point of view, is the answer to crush them rather than dismissing the source as inconsequential or engage in debate, heated even? For that matter, when was the leap made to link a person's job to their unpopular opinions? Why should they necessarily lose their employment for sensational statements? Especially if they're in the media and get paid to entertain? Imus paid too harshly for his insensitive, racist comments. He should have been punished in-house, maybe some leave without pay or a fine on his salary. But I don't like that a small group's howl of protest successfully led to his sacking. It's a bad trend where Americans learn the methodology of eliminating anyone that says or thinks something that cuts to the left or right of conventional thinking.
And so here we are again. Savage, perhaps insensitively, labels an entire group of people as fakers. That's simply not enough to warrant his dismissal. I don't think autism's status as a medical condition so fragile that it can't withstand the half-cocked statement of an average shock jock. If it is, then perhaps we should be listening more closely to what Savage has to say on the matter. It seems he just might be on to something.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Lrn2Vacuum Nub
The Penny Arcade cartoon today applies to Wifezilla in spades. She understands WoW lingo, especially the raiding terms I've used to describe a particular epic encounter. Via smokey black tendrils, the vocabulary has seeped into her vocabulary insidiously, making her a more well-rounded person from my perspective.
Ask her, and she'll tell you she hates herself for it.
Ask her, and she'll tell you she hates herself for it.
Pearl Jam Ascendant
The Buzz, Houston's alternative rock station, holds one of my favorite bands, Pearl Jam, in time-statis contempt. Rod Ryan, the morning DJ, openly ridicules them. He doesn't come out and say he hates the band. But the fact that the station doesn't play any PJ after Vitalogy speaks louder than radio-transmitted words.
A few weeks ago, PJ played at some The Who cover concert, the song Rain Over Me. Rod played a clip of it and then proceeded to fawn over it like devoted fan boy. I was shocked that anything positive about PJ was coming out of his mouth. Ever since, the station has been playing a ton of PJ. I used to go weeks without hearing them on The Buzz and just this morning, I've heard three songs. Granted, it's nothing past Vitalogy. Still, that's better than the usual twenty Stinkin Park songs they play in the same time frame.
I should be happy that they're playing more of my favorite bands, but it irks me that they're so excited over a cover song. The clip I heard was good, don't get me wrong. It just wasn't anything that the band doesn't usually do. Rod liked the cover? Well yeah, it's because PJ rocks. If they'd give some of the albums the band has put out in the last ten years a fair listen, they'd realize that.
A few weeks ago, PJ played at some The Who cover concert, the song Rain Over Me. Rod played a clip of it and then proceeded to fawn over it like devoted fan boy. I was shocked that anything positive about PJ was coming out of his mouth. Ever since, the station has been playing a ton of PJ. I used to go weeks without hearing them on The Buzz and just this morning, I've heard three songs. Granted, it's nothing past Vitalogy. Still, that's better than the usual twenty Stinkin Park songs they play in the same time frame.
I should be happy that they're playing more of my favorite bands, but it irks me that they're so excited over a cover song. The clip I heard was good, don't get me wrong. It just wasn't anything that the band doesn't usually do. Rod liked the cover? Well yeah, it's because PJ rocks. If they'd give some of the albums the band has put out in the last ten years a fair listen, they'd realize that.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Mass Effect Mass Appealing
I take back what I said about Mass Effect in the other day's blog. Well, not about it being a shooter because it is. Though not like Half Life 2 or Quake or Halo 3. It's really a hybrid, where your stat abilities also factor in to whether you hit or not. Sure, you've got to ballpark aim your reticle at the target. But it's not the mad strafing, reflex-based cacophony that is your standard Team Fortress fare.
I realized something while playing Mass Effect these last few days, about the importance of sticking with a game longer than a half hour. My game play attention span has been frantically ADD lately. I play a game and then start thinking about another game. I recall how cool and fun it is. I'm playing scant attention to the plot or mechanics of the current game I'm playing and all too often lose interest and stop playing.
A solid few hours with Mass Effect dug the game's claws in to me and held. I was able to the see the small details of the plot and the larger story it had to tell. I soon found myself zooming from planet to planet, fulfilling side quests and following the main story thread. I'm on track to finish the game in the days/weeks to come. After that, the sky is the limit. Meaning digging out titles like Oblivion, Titan Quest, and The Witcher, and seeing those to the end too.
Because who reads just half of a book?
I realized something while playing Mass Effect these last few days, about the importance of sticking with a game longer than a half hour. My game play attention span has been frantically ADD lately. I play a game and then start thinking about another game. I recall how cool and fun it is. I'm playing scant attention to the plot or mechanics of the current game I'm playing and all too often lose interest and stop playing.
A solid few hours with Mass Effect dug the game's claws in to me and held. I was able to the see the small details of the plot and the larger story it had to tell. I soon found myself zooming from planet to planet, fulfilling side quests and following the main story thread. I'm on track to finish the game in the days/weeks to come. After that, the sky is the limit. Meaning digging out titles like Oblivion, Titan Quest, and The Witcher, and seeing those to the end too.
Because who reads just half of a book?
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Rock Band Instruments Will Work With New Guitar Hero
I've read this from numerous sources so it must be true. My brother and I bitch about the current incompatibility on a frequent basis. So much so that I'm worried what we'll complain about to fill the void. This is outstanding news, however. I even read a Guitar Hero developer say something to the effect, "It's ridiculous to make people buy redundant instruments."
Indeed it is.
Indeed it is.
Friday, July 18, 2008
And I'm Spent
In an explosion of man-on-pipe action, I tore out and installed eight supply valve shutoffs and tore out and installed the remaining three bathroom faucets. There were a few surprises, all of them involving the logistics of taking out twenty-year old fixtures. No brick walls though. No leaks. And now we've got all new plumbing guts underneath our bathroom faucets.
I'm really wore out though. Time to rest. Still, I've been doing some reading and it looks really easy to pop out and replace old sink traps . . .
I'm really wore out though. Time to rest. Still, I've been doing some reading and it looks really easy to pop out and replace old sink traps . . .
Thursday, July 17, 2008
KoTOR MMO Indeed in Development
It's not "press conference" official, but an EA suit confirmed that Bioware and LucasArts are jointly developing a MMO based on the Knights of the Old Republic time setting of the Star Wars universe.
I'm not nearly as excited about this as I was even two months ago. My patience with MMO game play structure ranks right up there with driving in rush hour traffic. The only difference is I don't have to play an MMO.
After playing Age of Conan for a month, it slowly dawned on me that all these MMOs really aren't all that different from each other. Their skin changes, but the carrot/mule dynamic remains with nearly all of them. It took me three years of intense playing to realize this wasn't' fun to me anymore. At least not as fun as it was when I first played World of Warcraft.
Time is the main issue for me, game play a close second. To level cap a toon or gear them up for raiding for any of the various MMOs out there involves a time suck that will consume a gamer's entire discretionary game time. And then some. The quality of the game play? Leveling involves killing many of the same monsters over and over again. Raiding involves killing all of the same bosses over and over again. I know people like that. Hell, I liked it not too long ago. I can't criticize anyone who still raids in their MMO of choice, I just can't do it myself. Not anymore.
Which means even a Star Wars game turns into an either/or decision for me. Either I play it and level and raid till someone carts my bloated corpse from the keyboard. Or I don't play the game at all. It seems a bit extreme, but in a weird MMO way, it makes sense. I mean, what's the point of playing an MMO casually if your NOT intending to hit the cap, run some casual instances, or all-out raid? I'm to the point now with MMOs that if I'm not committed to capping and raiding a toon, I'm not playing one at all. That attitude might change with some much needed time off from WoW and its like. Some innovative changes to current MMO paradigms would go a long way in getting me more excited too.
But mostly I suspect my attitude will harden even more in the months to come. I played MMOs for more than three years, had buttloads of fun, then stopped having fun, and now I'm done with them. I guess you could say I went through a very long fad. Time to put down the hula hoop and move on.
In the meantime, I'll watch development details of this new Star Wars MMO. Warily. With the appraising eye of a gamer that likely won't play it unless if offers a truly new MMO experience.
I'm not nearly as excited about this as I was even two months ago. My patience with MMO game play structure ranks right up there with driving in rush hour traffic. The only difference is I don't have to play an MMO.
After playing Age of Conan for a month, it slowly dawned on me that all these MMOs really aren't all that different from each other. Their skin changes, but the carrot/mule dynamic remains with nearly all of them. It took me three years of intense playing to realize this wasn't' fun to me anymore. At least not as fun as it was when I first played World of Warcraft.
Time is the main issue for me, game play a close second. To level cap a toon or gear them up for raiding for any of the various MMOs out there involves a time suck that will consume a gamer's entire discretionary game time. And then some. The quality of the game play? Leveling involves killing many of the same monsters over and over again. Raiding involves killing all of the same bosses over and over again. I know people like that. Hell, I liked it not too long ago. I can't criticize anyone who still raids in their MMO of choice, I just can't do it myself. Not anymore.
Which means even a Star Wars game turns into an either/or decision for me. Either I play it and level and raid till someone carts my bloated corpse from the keyboard. Or I don't play the game at all. It seems a bit extreme, but in a weird MMO way, it makes sense. I mean, what's the point of playing an MMO casually if your NOT intending to hit the cap, run some casual instances, or all-out raid? I'm to the point now with MMOs that if I'm not committed to capping and raiding a toon, I'm not playing one at all. That attitude might change with some much needed time off from WoW and its like. Some innovative changes to current MMO paradigms would go a long way in getting me more excited too.
But mostly I suspect my attitude will harden even more in the months to come. I played MMOs for more than three years, had buttloads of fun, then stopped having fun, and now I'm done with them. I guess you could say I went through a very long fad. Time to put down the hula hoop and move on.
In the meantime, I'll watch development details of this new Star Wars MMO. Warily. With the appraising eye of a gamer that likely won't play it unless if offers a truly new MMO experience.
Mass Effect
I've been trying to get into Mass Effect these last few weeks, but it's more shooter than I like in my games. Even so, I fired it up this morning and was having a gay old time until I hit a cut scene which depicted some alien machinery landing in front of me. When the cut scene was over and game play begun, I barely had time to get my bearings before all four of the aliens opened fire on me and killed me.
My last saved game? An hour back, when I started playing.
Needless to say, this doesn't help keep me interested in the game. I do like the story and setting a lot though, I just wish there was less twitch shooter involved. I can detect the shell of the game from the Knights of the Old Republic, but with some various tweaks and overhauls, some good, others not so much.
I'm going to continue playing it because that hour I had before I died so cheaply was a lot of fun. If anything, it's a good opportunity to start working on my shooter skillz.
My last saved game? An hour back, when I started playing.
Needless to say, this doesn't help keep me interested in the game. I do like the story and setting a lot though, I just wish there was less twitch shooter involved. I can detect the shell of the game from the Knights of the Old Republic, but with some various tweaks and overhauls, some good, others not so much.
I'm going to continue playing it because that hour I had before I died so cheaply was a lot of fun. If anything, it's a good opportunity to start working on my shooter skillz.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Disrupted Supply Lines
In the war against indoor plumbing, the enemy outflanked me and interrupted my supply lines.
Fresh from yesterday's victorious faucet installation, I woke up eager to slap another one in. I dove in right after my workout. Unlike yesterday, the old drain pipe came out effortlessly, in less than five minutes. I told myself, "James, you learned some skills yesterday and now you're already applying them to greater efficacy and efficiency." Done patting myself on the back, I set to unhooking the supply lines.
Fresh from yesterday's victorious faucet installation, I woke up eager to slap another one in. I dove in right after my workout. Unlike yesterday, the old drain pipe came out effortlessly, in less than five minutes. I told myself, "James, you learned some skills yesterday and now you're already applying them to greater efficacy and efficiency." Done patting myself on the back, I set to unhooking the supply lines.
That's when Murphy's Law gets wind that I'm on cruise control to a near perfect installation. He arrives on scene ethereally and proceeds to piss all over me and the faucet I'm trying to rip out.
But I don't know Murphy is here yet, peeing on me, so I work determinedly, confidently. I loosen the supply line nuts and faucet anchors. I notice that both black washers separated from the nuts but thought nothing of them until I went to separate the faucet from the supply lines.
Neither line would budge.
I pulled. I jiggled. I twisted, though delicately because the supply lines are pieces of crap, an aluminum type substance that provides some flexibility, but snaps like an soda can if messed with too much.
All to no avail.
Suddenly, inspiration. I call up Bruce Banner and tell him to get his skinny ass over to my house poste haste. He gives me some lip, but appears ten minutes later. I tell him to Hulk out and pull the supply lines out of the faucet. He refuses, citing public welfare. I bitch slap him. He's really been practicing that yoga crap because he barely flinches and doesn't Hulk out. So I kick him in the balls. That does the trick. Once green and gargantuan, I point The Hulk to the faucet and order, "Hulk separate!" Surprisingly he complies. But even The Hulk can't undo the calcified plumbing. He leaves my house sobbing, "Hulk fail."
I do finally get one side separated by lifting the faucet up over the sink, exposing the threaded copper tubing and supply lines. I use a vise grips to screw one washer off. But the other side gets stripped in the attempt so I have to use a hack saw to saw off the faucet tubing and remove the washer.
Meanwhile, all the jostling, lifting, and sawing breaks the supply line near the valve shut off.
I can't recall uttering a longer torrent of obscenities in all my life. I think I achieved a new world record today. Some of my four-letter word combos were truly inspiring.
Supply line broken, but Murphy's Law makes things worse. Turns out whomever built my house cut corners because the one end of the supply line is welded directly into the shutoff valve. As a result, I can't just unscrew it from the valve and replace it with a new one. I have to install an entirely new valve shutoff.
My simple faucet installation has now escalated to Def Con Two.
I take a moment to come to terms with the fact that I won't have the faucet installed anytime soon. I also realize I have to go back to Lowe's. So I jump in my truck for a supply run. Plumbing supplies have improved since my house was built and I pick up a sturdy but very pliable pvc supply line, along with a new valve shutoff and some Teflon tape.
Back home, I shut water off to the house and carefully take off the old piece-of-crap shutoff valve. You have to do this carefully because this is connected to your house's main water line. When you apply torque, you have to hold your main pipe in place so it doesn't twist along. Thankfully, the old valve slowly comes loose. It takes about five minutes for residual water to drain out. Once the flow abates, I wrap some Teflon tape around the pipe thread of the main line and screw the new valve into place. I use those trusty vice grips to finish tightening it.
I race back downstairs and open up all the outdoor faucets before I turn the main line back on. I do this to allow silt and sediment to flow outside rather than through the indoor plumbing components. Once the water is back on, I head back up stairs to check the valve. It's beading a drop of water every minute or so. I give the valve another quarter turn and the leak stops.
I take a look at the other side and decide I don't want to mess with that crappy valve anymore, so I shut of the house's water and replace that one too. Within minutes, I've got the new faucet installed and spitting out water.
Here's a pic of the broken supply line.
Here's a shot of the nether regions, flush with new guts.
And here's the money shot.
So two down, three to go. I'm going to replace all the rest of the valve shutoffs for the remaining faucets. Now that I know what I'm doing, they'll take mere minutes. But I've killed two afternoons in a row learning valuable plumbing skills, so I think I'll take tomorrow off.
Unless Wifezilla cracks the whip.
G4 Previews Fallout 3 Demo
Check out the gameplay footage of Fallout 3. I can't wait for this to come out.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Flagship Goes Belly-Up
1up reports that Flagship Studios has officially laid off its entire staff and closed its doors to operations.
While not exactly surprising, it's still sore news given so many former Diablo developers worked on the project. My instinct is that the game went wrong when they tried to get people to pay for a style of game they were accustomed to getting for free. Roper can defend his market scheme till the cows come home, but charging people $10 a month for not even a fraction of the content other games offer is asking for trouble. Or for people to not buy and play your game. Which seems to be what happened because Flagship looks dead and gone and there game wasn't even out for a whole year.
Just for giggles, I checked to see if I could still log into Hellgate: London. Apparently Flagship paid their light bill this month because the server was up and running and peeps were blissfully running around the station, seemingly unaware that the future of the game is very much in question.
That's what will be interesting to see in the coming weeks. Will HG: L get sold to another developer, one that can support the game and breath a new vision into it? Or will the plug get pulled entirely?
I hope it's the former because I really have fun playing this game.
While not exactly surprising, it's still sore news given so many former Diablo developers worked on the project. My instinct is that the game went wrong when they tried to get people to pay for a style of game they were accustomed to getting for free. Roper can defend his market scheme till the cows come home, but charging people $10 a month for not even a fraction of the content other games offer is asking for trouble. Or for people to not buy and play your game. Which seems to be what happened because Flagship looks dead and gone and there game wasn't even out for a whole year.
Just for giggles, I checked to see if I could still log into Hellgate: London. Apparently Flagship paid their light bill this month because the server was up and running and peeps were blissfully running around the station, seemingly unaware that the future of the game is very much in question.
That's what will be interesting to see in the coming weeks. Will HG: L get sold to another developer, one that can support the game and breath a new vision into it? Or will the plug get pulled entirely?
I hope it's the former because I really have fun playing this game.
Hancock
So Wifezilla and I tried on three different occasions to see Iron Man. Each time we showed up, the movie got pulled at the last minute. The second coitus interruptus occurred to make preview room for Hancock. Wifezilla likes Will Smith and the commercials make the movie look pretty good, so we suckered into going.
Big mistake.
Just to get this out of the way, you've already seen some of the movie's best clips advertised on TV and previewed with other movies. The full version doesn't offer any novelty beyond what was advertised freely.
That wasn't the deal breaker. Neither was Will Smith. He's passable, if not unchallenged, in the role of a jaded superhero who is universally reviled and needed by the public at large. The suck factor is in finding out why he's a superhero. I won't share it here (mainly because I can't make myself regurgitate it), but the revelation is groan-inducing. And the metaphysical mechanics to explain it all are routinely contradicted throughout the movie, mostly to cull some melodrama. In the rush to explain why Hancock behaves the way he does, the movie gets sloppy and then I lose interest and then I get pissed because I'm reminded that I didn't drive all this way to see Hancock, I came here to see Iron Man, the movie the theater advertised to show at 7:20. Jerk offs.
Anyway, save your $10 and go see anything else but Hancock. I can barely recommend it on DVD.
Oh, and I still haven't seen Iron Man yet.
Big mistake.
Just to get this out of the way, you've already seen some of the movie's best clips advertised on TV and previewed with other movies. The full version doesn't offer any novelty beyond what was advertised freely.
That wasn't the deal breaker. Neither was Will Smith. He's passable, if not unchallenged, in the role of a jaded superhero who is universally reviled and needed by the public at large. The suck factor is in finding out why he's a superhero. I won't share it here (mainly because I can't make myself regurgitate it), but the revelation is groan-inducing. And the metaphysical mechanics to explain it all are routinely contradicted throughout the movie, mostly to cull some melodrama. In the rush to explain why Hancock behaves the way he does, the movie gets sloppy and then I lose interest and then I get pissed because I'm reminded that I didn't drive all this way to see Hancock, I came here to see Iron Man, the movie the theater advertised to show at 7:20. Jerk offs.
Anyway, save your $10 and go see anything else but Hancock. I can barely recommend it on DVD.
Oh, and I still haven't seen Iron Man yet.
Adventures In Plumbing
We've got five bathroom faucets in our house, all original to its construction I'm sure. They're cheap as hell new, so twenty years of age haven't done them a whole lot of good. They leak, they've got rust colored calcification wedged in hard-to-reach-spots. And they're ugly.
My fear of outdoor plumbing kept me from doing anything about them. At least personally. I knew I could hire someone to install them, but faucet installation starts at $100. Multiply that by five and you either live with your fugly faucets or you get off your ass and do something about them.
Today I did something about them.
First, I did the tiniest of faucet research. I'm the type of guy whose head explodes if exposed too long to HGTV or any show that re-does a room/kitchen/bathroom. So I can't look at faucets for too long. I also know I don't want to spend more than fifty bucks, but probably no less than thirty. I check Home Depot and Lowe's and between the two, I find an economical faucet that seems easy to install and comes with glowing customer reviews.
I thought the installation would be the hard part, but turns out the real work is getting the old faucet out. After scanning the directions, I realize that drain pipes come with faucets. They're part of the overall fixture. I thought they were grafted onto the sink, but nope. They pop right out.
Well, most pop right out. Mine does not. Probably due to age, I have to wrench a gasket all the way down the threaded drain pipe, wedging a screwdriver inside the top of the drain to prevent it from turning. I learn that vise grips are not the best tool for this, so I make a mental note to buy a larger-capacity crescent wrench. It's slow going, but once the gasket threads off, I dissemble the pipe drain and feed it up through the sink hole.
Next, I cut off the faucets water supply. Thankfully, my house is new enough to have dual shut-off valves. One doesn't want to turn, so I carefully crank it with those trusty vise grips. Once the water is shut off, I go to loosen the bolt holding the supply line. My crescent wrench fits perfectly around the nut, but there isn't any room to get any torque to turn it. I make a few more attempts before I admit defeat. I've got the wrong tool.
Back to Lowe's. I grab an associate and tell them my problem. She brings me to a basin wrench. I grab it and a larger-sized crescent wrench and head back home.
The basin wrench works like a thoroughbred. The head pivots right or left according to your angle and whether you're tightening or loosening. A couple of cranks is all it takes and the nuts thread down. I loosen the plastic anchors holding the faucet in place and soon the old faucet is completely out.
Taking the old faucet out took about an hour and a half. Putting the new one in took less than fifteen minutes. I just put a bead of caulk around the base of the faucet and set it in place. I placed the supply lines within the faucet and screwed the anchors in place. Next, I put the drain in. Two plastic gaskets hold the drain in place, pulling down on it so it forms a water tight seal. Finally, I screwed the supply-line nuts in place, turned the water back on, and . . .
And it worked! I had a tiny drip that I fixed by tightening a supply line bolt, but other than that, the damn thing shoots water out just like it should. I've got four more in the house to replace. Now that I know what I'm doing and I have all the tools I need, they should go faster and more smoothly.
Another perk: Wifezilla thinks I'm Ty Pennington.
My fear of outdoor plumbing kept me from doing anything about them. At least personally. I knew I could hire someone to install them, but faucet installation starts at $100. Multiply that by five and you either live with your fugly faucets or you get off your ass and do something about them.
Today I did something about them.
First, I did the tiniest of faucet research. I'm the type of guy whose head explodes if exposed too long to HGTV or any show that re-does a room/kitchen/bathroom. So I can't look at faucets for too long. I also know I don't want to spend more than fifty bucks, but probably no less than thirty. I check Home Depot and Lowe's and between the two, I find an economical faucet that seems easy to install and comes with glowing customer reviews.
I thought the installation would be the hard part, but turns out the real work is getting the old faucet out. After scanning the directions, I realize that drain pipes come with faucets. They're part of the overall fixture. I thought they were grafted onto the sink, but nope. They pop right out.
Well, most pop right out. Mine does not. Probably due to age, I have to wrench a gasket all the way down the threaded drain pipe, wedging a screwdriver inside the top of the drain to prevent it from turning. I learn that vise grips are not the best tool for this, so I make a mental note to buy a larger-capacity crescent wrench. It's slow going, but once the gasket threads off, I dissemble the pipe drain and feed it up through the sink hole.
Next, I cut off the faucets water supply. Thankfully, my house is new enough to have dual shut-off valves. One doesn't want to turn, so I carefully crank it with those trusty vise grips. Once the water is shut off, I go to loosen the bolt holding the supply line. My crescent wrench fits perfectly around the nut, but there isn't any room to get any torque to turn it. I make a few more attempts before I admit defeat. I've got the wrong tool.
Back to Lowe's. I grab an associate and tell them my problem. She brings me to a basin wrench. I grab it and a larger-sized crescent wrench and head back home.
The basin wrench works like a thoroughbred. The head pivots right or left according to your angle and whether you're tightening or loosening. A couple of cranks is all it takes and the nuts thread down. I loosen the plastic anchors holding the faucet in place and soon the old faucet is completely out.
Taking the old faucet out took about an hour and a half. Putting the new one in took less than fifteen minutes. I just put a bead of caulk around the base of the faucet and set it in place. I placed the supply lines within the faucet and screwed the anchors in place. Next, I put the drain in. Two plastic gaskets hold the drain in place, pulling down on it so it forms a water tight seal. Finally, I screwed the supply-line nuts in place, turned the water back on, and . . .
And it worked! I had a tiny drip that I fixed by tightening a supply line bolt, but other than that, the damn thing shoots water out just like it should. I've got four more in the house to replace. Now that I know what I'm doing and I have all the tools I need, they should go faster and more smoothly.
Another perk: Wifezilla thinks I'm Ty Pennington.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Stage Fright
I can't pee with someone next to me or behind me.
I think it's got something to do with the flight or fight response. That you're vulnerable when you're peeing and so your body goes on red alert when something lurks close by. Or it could just be me. I don't think so though because I remember an episode of Friends when Joey couldn't pee on Monica to alleviate her jellyfish bite. That show has made me feel better about a lot of things.
This happy trait of mine isn't normally a problem except we spent seven solid days driving cross-country this last month, involving numerous rest stops. And since we stuck mostly to interstate highways, the rest stops were almost always a buzzing hub of activity.
I remember a stop just south of Wichita. Mostly clean, but a narrow hallway of heads, urinals on one side, stalls on the other, no more than four feet separating the two rows. At the very end of the stalls and urinals, a boy of about seven or eight, nervously pacing back and forth. I've seen kids do this before. Some are too short to pee in a urinal. That doesn't stop some from getting a beautiful arc going that manages to get about half the urine in the porcelin shell. Other kids get the fright so they hold out for a stall to open up. Only the stall doors are all open here. He's pacing back and forth waiting for something, but I'll be damned if I can discern what it is.
I ignore him and saunter up to a urinal. My bladder full from hours of driving, I relax and let nature take its course. Only nature is concerned that this pacing little boy is going to pounce on my back and rip my throat out. So my flow is dammed tighter than the Hoover.
I reposition my feet in the hops that some light jostling will open the floodgates. I start picturing waterfalls, garden hoses, and exploding tanker-trucks of water. Nothing.
The boy, meanwhile, has lengthened the path of his pacing. He's now walking fully up and down the tiny hallway. He says nothing.
I pull out the big guns, hold my breath, and focus pressure on my nether regions. I tell Bladder, "Damn the boy, empty out and if the boy attacks, I'll have Hands and Feet take care of him afterwards." Bladder either doesn't hear me or refuses to believe that Hands and Feet can handle an attacking boy. I throw in Elbows as reinforcements. Bladder remains deaf or unconvinced.
A man enters the bathroom, but rather than make his way head down to a urinal or stall, he stops and looks directly at the boy. Like he knows him. Thank god, sweet relief!
The man says, "Are you lost."
The boy stops pacing and shakes his head no.
"Is your daddy in here with you."
"No," he replies. I hear an accent. Swedish. Swahili maybe.
"Are your parents outside?"
The boy shakes his head yes. Nothing about this exchange is helping me get any closer to peeing. My head now throbs from the pressure I'm putting on my southward equipment to do their job. The spigot turns on only when another man pulls up beside me and effortlessly unleashes a torrent of his own. Like a start with jumper cables, my bladder relents. Holding in a sigh, I picture a beaker, the one with measurement lines, filled to the top with an amber liquid but slowing emptying. Fifty gallons. Now forty. Thirty. A sudden burst drops the payload to ten gallons. Decrease in water pressure, empty. Shake. Collapse. Done.
In the midst of my blissful whiz, I dimly recall the man taking the boy outside the bathroom. I follow up myself and see the boy rejoined with his family. I consider advising the parents to get the kid some psychological help, but then I remember my inability to pee and consider the entire incident even-steven.
I don't drink anything the rest of the day until we reach our hotel.
I think it's got something to do with the flight or fight response. That you're vulnerable when you're peeing and so your body goes on red alert when something lurks close by. Or it could just be me. I don't think so though because I remember an episode of Friends when Joey couldn't pee on Monica to alleviate her jellyfish bite. That show has made me feel better about a lot of things.
This happy trait of mine isn't normally a problem except we spent seven solid days driving cross-country this last month, involving numerous rest stops. And since we stuck mostly to interstate highways, the rest stops were almost always a buzzing hub of activity.
I remember a stop just south of Wichita. Mostly clean, but a narrow hallway of heads, urinals on one side, stalls on the other, no more than four feet separating the two rows. At the very end of the stalls and urinals, a boy of about seven or eight, nervously pacing back and forth. I've seen kids do this before. Some are too short to pee in a urinal. That doesn't stop some from getting a beautiful arc going that manages to get about half the urine in the porcelin shell. Other kids get the fright so they hold out for a stall to open up. Only the stall doors are all open here. He's pacing back and forth waiting for something, but I'll be damned if I can discern what it is.
I ignore him and saunter up to a urinal. My bladder full from hours of driving, I relax and let nature take its course. Only nature is concerned that this pacing little boy is going to pounce on my back and rip my throat out. So my flow is dammed tighter than the Hoover.
I reposition my feet in the hops that some light jostling will open the floodgates. I start picturing waterfalls, garden hoses, and exploding tanker-trucks of water. Nothing.
The boy, meanwhile, has lengthened the path of his pacing. He's now walking fully up and down the tiny hallway. He says nothing.
I pull out the big guns, hold my breath, and focus pressure on my nether regions. I tell Bladder, "Damn the boy, empty out and if the boy attacks, I'll have Hands and Feet take care of him afterwards." Bladder either doesn't hear me or refuses to believe that Hands and Feet can handle an attacking boy. I throw in Elbows as reinforcements. Bladder remains deaf or unconvinced.
A man enters the bathroom, but rather than make his way head down to a urinal or stall, he stops and looks directly at the boy. Like he knows him. Thank god, sweet relief!
The man says, "Are you lost."
The boy stops pacing and shakes his head no.
"Is your daddy in here with you."
"No," he replies. I hear an accent. Swedish. Swahili maybe.
"Are your parents outside?"
The boy shakes his head yes. Nothing about this exchange is helping me get any closer to peeing. My head now throbs from the pressure I'm putting on my southward equipment to do their job. The spigot turns on only when another man pulls up beside me and effortlessly unleashes a torrent of his own. Like a start with jumper cables, my bladder relents. Holding in a sigh, I picture a beaker, the one with measurement lines, filled to the top with an amber liquid but slowing emptying. Fifty gallons. Now forty. Thirty. A sudden burst drops the payload to ten gallons. Decrease in water pressure, empty. Shake. Collapse. Done.
In the midst of my blissful whiz, I dimly recall the man taking the boy outside the bathroom. I follow up myself and see the boy rejoined with his family. I consider advising the parents to get the kid some psychological help, but then I remember my inability to pee and consider the entire incident even-steven.
I don't drink anything the rest of the day until we reach our hotel.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Some Words You're Just Better Off Never Knowing
I neglected to mention that Cormac McCarthy had me scrambling for my dictionary a number of times while reading The Road. Among the more interesting vocabulary he invoked: catamite. I'm not going to tell you what it means because it's not particularly pleasant, especially within the context of his novel. Look it up yourself if you're curious enough, just don't say I didn't warn you.
Cormac McCarthy
A big problem with maintaining a blog is that you get the unintended consequence of highlighting your ignorance. I'd like to think I'm fifty-fifty on the ignorance to insight ratio but that might be overoptimistic.
Last April, I watched a great movie, No Country for Old Men. I wrote about it at length, including how much I liked the story and the dialogue.
I never once mentioned Cormac McCarthy.
Turns out McCarthy wrote the novel from which the Cohens made their movie. I realized this little nugget of trivia while in Minneapolis last week. I was bored and had some brief access to the Internet. I searched new book releases and stumbled upon the 2007 Pulitzer prize winning book, The Road. I noted the author's name, a one Cormac McCarthy, but it didn't register any meaning with me. I read the book's synopsis, a post-apocalyptic tale about a father and son's journey through a devastated landscape and I committed myself to reading it (despite the Oprah Book Club endorsement). I scanned a bit farther down, where Amazon often lists related titles, especially ones written by the author, and saw . . . you guessed it, No Country for Old Men. And All the Pretty Horses.
I was flabbergasted. Embarrassed. How the hell could I have not realized No Country had been written by a celebrated American author? The movie had good dialogue? Well yeah, Cormac McCarthy wrote it! I might as well credit Roman Polanski for directing some great dialogue and tragic themes in Macbeth, without once mentioning Bill as the source. Thankfully, I don't think I've quite hit that rock bottom. Yet.
The next day, I drug the family to Barnes & Noble and picked up The Road and No Country. I read The Road that day. The whole thing. It's that good. I'm mostly finished with No Country. Equally stunning piece of work. The latter is especially interesting because the Cohens largely kept their screenplay true to McCarthy's book. Because of this, the book and movie are equals to each other, though I have to give a slight nod to the book because it's the source material. No Country is one of those rare cases where I don't think it really matters what order you read the book or see the movie. I'm wracking my brain and I can't think of another instance where I would sanction someone to watch before they read.
I recommend you run, not walk, to your local bookstore and pick up both titles. McCarthy writes prose like a poet. You'll reread his sentences not because you didn't understand what he wrote but because he strings words together unlike anyone else on the planet. This is never more readily apparant than in The Road, which mananges a constant exchange between the uplifting and the darkness. It's storytelling like Jack London, Earnest Hemingway, or William Faulkner used to spin, only McCarthy is writing right now. For us. He's 74, but I'm claiming him as my generation's writer.
I just hope that if someone makes a movie from The Road, I remember to reference the author.
Last April, I watched a great movie, No Country for Old Men. I wrote about it at length, including how much I liked the story and the dialogue.
I never once mentioned Cormac McCarthy.
Turns out McCarthy wrote the novel from which the Cohens made their movie. I realized this little nugget of trivia while in Minneapolis last week. I was bored and had some brief access to the Internet. I searched new book releases and stumbled upon the 2007 Pulitzer prize winning book, The Road. I noted the author's name, a one Cormac McCarthy, but it didn't register any meaning with me. I read the book's synopsis, a post-apocalyptic tale about a father and son's journey through a devastated landscape and I committed myself to reading it (despite the Oprah Book Club endorsement). I scanned a bit farther down, where Amazon often lists related titles, especially ones written by the author, and saw . . . you guessed it, No Country for Old Men. And All the Pretty Horses.
I was flabbergasted. Embarrassed. How the hell could I have not realized No Country had been written by a celebrated American author? The movie had good dialogue? Well yeah, Cormac McCarthy wrote it! I might as well credit Roman Polanski for directing some great dialogue and tragic themes in Macbeth, without once mentioning Bill as the source. Thankfully, I don't think I've quite hit that rock bottom. Yet.
The next day, I drug the family to Barnes & Noble and picked up The Road and No Country. I read The Road that day. The whole thing. It's that good. I'm mostly finished with No Country. Equally stunning piece of work. The latter is especially interesting because the Cohens largely kept their screenplay true to McCarthy's book. Because of this, the book and movie are equals to each other, though I have to give a slight nod to the book because it's the source material. No Country is one of those rare cases where I don't think it really matters what order you read the book or see the movie. I'm wracking my brain and I can't think of another instance where I would sanction someone to watch before they read.
I recommend you run, not walk, to your local bookstore and pick up both titles. McCarthy writes prose like a poet. You'll reread his sentences not because you didn't understand what he wrote but because he strings words together unlike anyone else on the planet. This is never more readily apparant than in The Road, which mananges a constant exchange between the uplifting and the darkness. It's storytelling like Jack London, Earnest Hemingway, or William Faulkner used to spin, only McCarthy is writing right now. For us. He's 74, but I'm claiming him as my generation's writer.
I just hope that if someone makes a movie from The Road, I remember to reference the author.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Diablo III Announced
Coming off the heels of Blizzard's Diablo III announcement, the petition. I find it cheeky that any group of people would dare second guess Bliz's track record. I can't think of one bad game they've developed. Or at least that didn't sell well. I sympathize with the petitioners' concern that the screenshots hint of unwanted Warcraft seepage. But Warcraft sells games. It's PC gaming for the masses. I'd be surprised if their newest Diablo game wasn't affected by lessons learned by WoW and it's ugly RTS step-brother.
Besides, to petition a change in art direction is essentially asking Blizzard to start from scratch. I'm not a game developer, but I guess that the art is the foundation of the game. Or at least the coat of paint that goes around the mechanical parts. I don't see them redoing any of that, especially based on criticism that the game looks too much like WoW. To that, I can almost hear the devs commenting, "Really, you think so? Well, gee, thanks."
If you're excited about the upcoming Diablo III, I highly recommend you pick up Iron Lore's Titan Quest. It's as worthy a successor to the spirit of Diablo as any game on the market today and by now you can get it on the cheap. It's a real shame the developer went under, claiming death by piracy.
Besides, to petition a change in art direction is essentially asking Blizzard to start from scratch. I'm not a game developer, but I guess that the art is the foundation of the game. Or at least the coat of paint that goes around the mechanical parts. I don't see them redoing any of that, especially based on criticism that the game looks too much like WoW. To that, I can almost hear the devs commenting, "Really, you think so? Well, gee, thanks."
If you're excited about the upcoming Diablo III, I highly recommend you pick up Iron Lore's Titan Quest. It's as worthy a successor to the spirit of Diablo as any game on the market today and by now you can get it on the cheap. It's a real shame the developer went under, claiming death by piracy.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Requiem Downs Illidan
I've been peeing my pants to be able to type that heading. The guild downed him nearly two weeks ago and Havak has performed his usual magic in capturing the historical moment.
I long ago stepped down from raiding, so I did not attend this milestone. Having raided, I know the work and organization that went into finally defeating Illidan and so I tip my hat to the good people that make up Requiem.
Conquer!
I long ago stepped down from raiding, so I did not attend this milestone. Having raided, I know the work and organization that went into finally defeating Illidan and so I tip my hat to the good people that make up Requiem.
Conquer!
And We're Back . . .
It was three weeks today that my family and I embarked on an odyssey that meandered crazily across country, with a starting point of Houston, Texas and destinations that included Oklahoma City, Oklahoma; Omaha, Nebraska; Rapid City, South Dakota; Fairview, Montana; Minot, North Dakota; and Minneapolis, Minnesota. Of the three weeks we were gone, a solid week was spent driving to destinations, eight hours on average.
Returning today felt triumphant. Driving up to the house, I noted that it still stood. Entering the house, I observed no break-in. Personal possessions, all there. Pipes, holding water. No inch of standing water in the kitchen, den, living room. You laugh, but these ideas crossed my mind occasionally. 1,500 miles distance brings out the imaginative worrier in me.
I have much to write out in the coming days. A lot went down while I was gone, including a major announcement by Blizzard and the downing of a famed boss on the part of my beloved raiding guild, Requiem.
But time enough for all that later. For the moment, I'm going to grab a beer, chuck myself in my favorite chair, and scan hundreds of channels of digital television, some in HD.
All those places I rattled off earlier, they were nice to visit, but I wouldn't necessarily want to live there. It's good to be back.
Returning today felt triumphant. Driving up to the house, I noted that it still stood. Entering the house, I observed no break-in. Personal possessions, all there. Pipes, holding water. No inch of standing water in the kitchen, den, living room. You laugh, but these ideas crossed my mind occasionally. 1,500 miles distance brings out the imaginative worrier in me.
I have much to write out in the coming days. A lot went down while I was gone, including a major announcement by Blizzard and the downing of a famed boss on the part of my beloved raiding guild, Requiem.
But time enough for all that later. For the moment, I'm going to grab a beer, chuck myself in my favorite chair, and scan hundreds of channels of digital television, some in HD.
All those places I rattled off earlier, they were nice to visit, but I wouldn't necessarily want to live there. It's good to be back.
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