Do you know what a sabot is? It's ok if you don't, I wouldn't know except that Jamie used one in the episode of the Mythbusters where he built a tortilla-shooting machine.
What is a sabot?
Let's say that I have a small object, like a golf ball, and I try to shoot it out of something large, like a cannon . . . which would probably be pretty cool. But it wouldn't work very well. A canon is built to fire balls that fill the barrel, using gunpowder as a sort of ultimate Draino to clear the blockage. Since my golf ball wouldn't come close to filling the cannon, it would miss out on most of the blast and drop pitifully short. To make the golf ball go further I'd need a sabot.
A sabot is a carrier, it would go around my golf ball but also fill the barrel. When the cannon fired, my sabot would take the full force of the blast, zipping down the cannon while taking the golf ball along for the ride. Then, and this is the most important part, the sabot would fall away. A sabot comes in multiple pieces, so once mine was free of the barrel, it would break apart to let the golf ball keep going.
And that, in a nutshell, is what a sabot does . . . although if you cracked it first, I guess a nutshell could BE a sabot.
*zen*
I realized today that "The Eagles" are a sabot.
If you're not familiar with The Eagles, tune your radio to a classic rock station, then wait twenty minutes. If there aren't any classic rock stations in your area, why not start your own? It's easy. You can run a successful classic rock station with only five songs!
Hotel California by The Eagles
Simple Kind of Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits
American Woman by Guess Who
Hotel California by The Eagles (you need a second copy for when you wear the first one out)
See, a lot of people I know went through a period in their lives where they liked "The Eagles", even thought they were the "greatest band of all time." But then somewhere along the way, all these people stopped listening to their Eagles albums as they experienced more diverse, interesting, an unique music. And that's fine. But then somewhere else along the way, these people also collectively turned back and said "**** The Eagles!". Suddenly they thought "The Eagles" were terrible, and wondered why they ever loved the live version of "Take It Easy" where they changed the lyrics to say "southern California" so everyone would cheer.*
I think this is wrong, and it's unfair. It's not that "The Eagles" are bad, and in fact you should be grateful for them. Your sixteen-year-old self wasn't ready to hear the artists that you listen to now. At that time, you didn't have the aural or life experience to appreciate diverse, interesting, and unique music. You were a golf ball in a cannon, with the force of musical appreciation going right over you. Something had to get you through that period, let you enjoy music and become interested in it without demanding much from you.
"The Eagles" were your sabot. And when you moved past that place, "The Eagles" fell away.
*And you are a liar if you say you didn't.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Friday, August 31, 2007
Seattle As Best I Remember It
The Space Needle is a living, latter day zen riddle. How do you make an overpriced and uninspired restaurant successful? By making it really difficult to get to.
Your mind is now blank, you may seek after enlightenment.
But when I say "difficult to get to", I don't mean "out in the middle of nowhere" or "down some odd back alley." That would be making the restaurant difficult to find. The secret of the overpriced eatery, apparently, is to be completely visible, just a huge pain to physically get into, and here the Space Needle excels. It rests a startling 60 stories up, far above the Seattle streets. Well, I say that, but the restaurant is the first stop on the Space Needle's elevator, so it's technically only the second story with a 500 foot crawlspace between floors.
And that's another remarkable thing, the Space Needle restaurant isn't just on the top floor of some office building, where professionals would frequent it for business lunches and late dinners. Instead, it sits atop a structure that serves no other purpose but to keep it away from everyone. Yet the place is packed year round, because something about that inconvenience makes it irresistible. You're looking at it all the way up there, and those elevators are taking a long time to reach it, and suddenly you really want to pay twenty dollars for a chicken sandwich.
And that's why the Space Needle is the symbol of Seattle, because like the city, it's a place that thrives for no good reason . The weather in Seattle is livable for only two months out of the year, and even during those months the sky is clear for about one of every three days. The local government is of the sort that's convinced a monorail will solve everything. (Bonus points to those of you who are now quoting lines from the "monorail" episode of the Simpsons. Did you know Conan O'brein wrote that?) And the city's feature attractions, aside from the bad restaurant on a stick, include a place where you can see guys throw fish around*, and Bruce Lee's grave.
And yet the area is a haven for major technology companies. It's home to the biggest coffee chain in the country (not surprising when you consider the weather). And best of all, it gave us Jimi Hendrix.
I just don't see how it's possible.
Oh, and they have Slurpee's there, too.
*I have to admit that the guys throwing fish around are entirely awesome.
Your mind is now blank, you may seek after enlightenment.
But when I say "difficult to get to", I don't mean "out in the middle of nowhere" or "down some odd back alley." That would be making the restaurant difficult to find. The secret of the overpriced eatery, apparently, is to be completely visible, just a huge pain to physically get into, and here the Space Needle excels. It rests a startling 60 stories up, far above the Seattle streets. Well, I say that, but the restaurant is the first stop on the Space Needle's elevator, so it's technically only the second story with a 500 foot crawlspace between floors.
And that's another remarkable thing, the Space Needle restaurant isn't just on the top floor of some office building, where professionals would frequent it for business lunches and late dinners. Instead, it sits atop a structure that serves no other purpose but to keep it away from everyone. Yet the place is packed year round, because something about that inconvenience makes it irresistible. You're looking at it all the way up there, and those elevators are taking a long time to reach it, and suddenly you really want to pay twenty dollars for a chicken sandwich.
And that's why the Space Needle is the symbol of Seattle, because like the city, it's a place that thrives for no good reason . The weather in Seattle is livable for only two months out of the year, and even during those months the sky is clear for about one of every three days. The local government is of the sort that's convinced a monorail will solve everything. (Bonus points to those of you who are now quoting lines from the "monorail" episode of the Simpsons. Did you know Conan O'brein wrote that?) And the city's feature attractions, aside from the bad restaurant on a stick, include a place where you can see guys throw fish around*, and Bruce Lee's grave.
And yet the area is a haven for major technology companies. It's home to the biggest coffee chain in the country (not surprising when you consider the weather). And best of all, it gave us Jimi Hendrix.
I just don't see how it's possible.
Oh, and they have Slurpee's there, too.
*I have to admit that the guys throwing fish around are entirely awesome.
Friday, August 24, 2007
And it calculates the tip amount, too!
We have devices for displaying big things, like movies and television shows, and we have devices for displaying small things, like mp3's and photos. However, to many experts in consumer electronics, it seems like there should be a single device that does all these things, a "Device of Everything". When you pick up the electronics insert from your Sunday paper and see a PDA with wireless networking or a cell phone that plays music, know that these aren't silly toys or expensive affectations. Each one is an attempt to solve a great mystery, it is the newest hypothesis of the "Unified Device Theory."
Some will say that this Device of Everything can't be created or that it requires a knowledge of multimedia that we simply don't have yet. But everyone agrees that a true Unified Device Theory would have to incorporate the four major forces of handheld electronics.
1. Strong multimedial force - The device must be able to play movies and TV shows that you've already seen.
2. Weak multimedial force - The device must provide you with mp3's that you've already heard, plus show funny web videos and give you constant access to Facebook.
3. Electric force - After the first commercial airplane passengers got over the miracle of defying gravity and the thrill of flying like a bird, they immediately started looking around for something to do for several hours in such a tight, enclosed space. This problem still exists today and it's the driving force behind device research, which is why a true Unified Device has to run on battery power for five hours or more.
4. Gravitational Force - The Device of Everything must be pocketable, or at least fit comfortably in a ridiculous belt clip.
Because those forces are a lot to balance, a number of approaches have been tried to find the Unified Device. Some say that only a computer can govern both the strong and weak multimedial forces, so the answer must involve taking computer and making it smaller and more power efficient. Other experts think that PDA's like the Palm and the PocketPC are best for managing gravitational force, so we need to infuse those devices with video playback and wireless networking. Still others, the newly founded "cell phone revisionists", think that no device will survive unless it's in widespread use, so the only solution is to keep piling new functions into every cell phone.
There's no way to know which approach will prove the most successful, but with enough time we may one day see the creation of the "Device of Everything", a single device that's pocketable, power-efficient, and provides hours of entertainment.*
*Wait a minute.
Some will say that this Device of Everything can't be created or that it requires a knowledge of multimedia that we simply don't have yet. But everyone agrees that a true Unified Device Theory would have to incorporate the four major forces of handheld electronics.
1. Strong multimedial force - The device must be able to play movies and TV shows that you've already seen.
2. Weak multimedial force - The device must provide you with mp3's that you've already heard, plus show funny web videos and give you constant access to Facebook.
3. Electric force - After the first commercial airplane passengers got over the miracle of defying gravity and the thrill of flying like a bird, they immediately started looking around for something to do for several hours in such a tight, enclosed space. This problem still exists today and it's the driving force behind device research, which is why a true Unified Device has to run on battery power for five hours or more.
4. Gravitational Force - The Device of Everything must be pocketable, or at least fit comfortably in a ridiculous belt clip.
Because those forces are a lot to balance, a number of approaches have been tried to find the Unified Device. Some say that only a computer can govern both the strong and weak multimedial forces, so the answer must involve taking computer and making it smaller and more power efficient. Other experts think that PDA's like the Palm and the PocketPC are best for managing gravitational force, so we need to infuse those devices with video playback and wireless networking. Still others, the newly founded "cell phone revisionists", think that no device will survive unless it's in widespread use, so the only solution is to keep piling new functions into every cell phone.
There's no way to know which approach will prove the most successful, but with enough time we may one day see the creation of the "Device of Everything", a single device that's pocketable, power-efficient, and provides hours of entertainment.*
*Wait a minute.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Zen Vision
"If I am walking with two other men, each of them will serve as my teacher. I will pick out the good points of the one and imitate them, and the bad points of the other and correct them in myself." -Confucius, philosopher and teacher (c. 551-478 BCE)
Two-thousand five-hundred years ago, Confucius already understood why Mystery Science Theater 3000 was an important show. It's not enough for us to see the best of what film has to offer, to be cultured in the medium we have to see the worst of it too. I like to imagine Confucius sitting on a couch, his robes arranged around a bowl of popcorn and a Mr.Pibb, meditating on Joel and the 'bots as they mock a terrible B movie.*
"To see what is right, and not to do it . . . that is what happened with "Santa Clause Conquers the Martians."
Bad entertainment is an important part of creativity. It demonstrates how wrong a work can go, teaches us to avoid common mistakes and, best of all, it fuels us to make something better. Stephen King talked about this inspiration in his memoir "On Writing":
" . . . most writers can remember the first book he/she put down thinking: I can do better than this. Hell, I am doing better than this! What could be more encouraging to the struggling writer than to realize his/her work is unquestionably better than that of someone who actually got paid for his/her stuff?"
Steve's right too, I remember not only the book, but the line:
"I'm forty-two, Harry. I've commanded two shuttle missions and participated in five. Ever heard of pressing your luck? I've had my fill of empty space. The Enterprise did that to me. The only space I want to explore anymore is the one inside of me" - from "The Dig" by Alan Dean Foster.
I think the book fell out of my hand when I read that passage, but I learned two important lessons in the process:
1.You should probably consider all the different meanings of a phrase before you go writing about "exploring the space inside of me". Especially if the title of your book is "The Dig."
2. WHAT?!? Does anyone, anywhere, talk this way? It's melodramtastic!
But the inspiration of bad work comes with a price. Since "bad" can do a lot of good, what's really bad is mediocrity. Not only are mediocre works not good, they're not even bad enough to be instructive. Somehow, it's ok if you make "Manos, the Hands of Fate" or "The Beast of Yucca Flats", just don't make "Alone in the Dark" or "BloodRayne".
*Confucius: That is why there are three silhouettes, for Joel, too, is 'walking with two men'
Sam: Whoa!
*Zen*
Two-thousand five-hundred years ago, Confucius already understood why Mystery Science Theater 3000 was an important show. It's not enough for us to see the best of what film has to offer, to be cultured in the medium we have to see the worst of it too. I like to imagine Confucius sitting on a couch, his robes arranged around a bowl of popcorn and a Mr.Pibb, meditating on Joel and the 'bots as they mock a terrible B movie.*
"To see what is right, and not to do it . . . that is what happened with "Santa Clause Conquers the Martians."
Bad entertainment is an important part of creativity. It demonstrates how wrong a work can go, teaches us to avoid common mistakes and, best of all, it fuels us to make something better. Stephen King talked about this inspiration in his memoir "On Writing":
" . . . most writers can remember the first book he/she put down thinking: I can do better than this. Hell, I am doing better than this! What could be more encouraging to the struggling writer than to realize his/her work is unquestionably better than that of someone who actually got paid for his/her stuff?"
Steve's right too, I remember not only the book, but the line:
"I'm forty-two, Harry. I've commanded two shuttle missions and participated in five. Ever heard of pressing your luck? I've had my fill of empty space. The Enterprise did that to me. The only space I want to explore anymore is the one inside of me" - from "The Dig" by Alan Dean Foster.
I think the book fell out of my hand when I read that passage, but I learned two important lessons in the process:
1.You should probably consider all the different meanings of a phrase before you go writing about "exploring the space inside of me". Especially if the title of your book is "The Dig."
2. WHAT?!? Does anyone, anywhere, talk this way? It's melodramtastic!
But the inspiration of bad work comes with a price. Since "bad" can do a lot of good, what's really bad is mediocrity. Not only are mediocre works not good, they're not even bad enough to be instructive. Somehow, it's ok if you make "Manos, the Hands of Fate" or "The Beast of Yucca Flats", just don't make "Alone in the Dark" or "BloodRayne".
*Confucius: That is why there are three silhouettes, for Joel, too, is 'walking with two men'
Sam: Whoa!
*Zen*
Friday, August 10, 2007
Ok, so Movies. Issue 1
Ok, so "The Bourne Ultimatum".
Find a cardboard box. Cut a rectangular hole in one side of it. Put it over your head so you can see through the hole you cut. Go ride something at Six Flags.
I just saved you $8.
Maybe that's a little harsh, but "Ultimatum" does make heavy use of director Paul Greengrass' "shaky cam" technique. Also, apparently picking up a camera, hitting "record" and shaking it around is a "technique"!
It's fun to play with words!
I wonder why more entertainers haven't thought of employing this idea. Just as Greengrass shakes the camera around to simulate the adrenaline-fueled movie sequences, rock stations should add the sound of some drunk guy yelling "Freebird" over the top of their songs to simulate the experience of a live concert. If only Robert Ludlum, who wrote the "Bourne" novels, was alive to witness this revolution in storytelling! He'd probably go back and rewrite the series using his new "shaky fiction" technique:
"In here! He's in here!" screamed Carlos.
It was insane! The assassin was directing the invaders directly toward him, to him! Reason was madness, nothing on the earth made sense snowstormacciotrombonefiretrucklalalalalala!
The door was crashed open by a tall man in a black overcoat; someone was with him, but Jason magicitefloundersepulchertomorrow could not see. The mists were filling his eyes, shapes and sounds becoming obscured, blurred. He was buggeritmelinniumtaco79334jjjjjkdkfff rolling in space. Away . . 3432monkeydog! . away.
See? By making the text obscured and annoying to read, I put you right in the moment!
No, wait, then again, that doesn't make sense.
Dear Mr. Greengrass,
A man named Alexander Moviecamera worked hard to create the tools you work with, and he would be very disappointed at how you abuse them. Please stop. If I wanted to not see what was going on in your movies, I could do it for free at home.
Your pal, Sam
But don't get the impression that "Ultimatum" is all "shaky-cam" fight sequences, because there's also a lot of Matt Damon walking while talking on a cell phone.* I think Matt must have some amazing clause in his contract, where any Hollywood movie must contain at least one sequence of him walking while talking on a cell phone. How many hundreds of hours of video tape have been used, in his brief career, to shoot that one scene? It's a waste, really. Each studio should take time out to shoot one really good "Matt Damon/cell phone" scene so they can re-dub it with whatever line they need him to say in the future.
The only other thing of note about "Ultimatum" is that Julia Stiles is in it, playing a character that is just as disposable as it was in "The Bourne Identity" and "The Bourne Supremacy". She's gotta have a contract to rival Damon's.
*Matt Hannum with the assist on this joke.
Find a cardboard box. Cut a rectangular hole in one side of it. Put it over your head so you can see through the hole you cut. Go ride something at Six Flags.
I just saved you $8.
Maybe that's a little harsh, but "Ultimatum" does make heavy use of director Paul Greengrass' "shaky cam" technique. Also, apparently picking up a camera, hitting "record" and shaking it around is a "technique"!
It's fun to play with words!
I wonder why more entertainers haven't thought of employing this idea. Just as Greengrass shakes the camera around to simulate the adrenaline-fueled movie sequences, rock stations should add the sound of some drunk guy yelling "Freebird" over the top of their songs to simulate the experience of a live concert. If only Robert Ludlum, who wrote the "Bourne" novels, was alive to witness this revolution in storytelling! He'd probably go back and rewrite the series using his new "shaky fiction" technique:
"In here! He's in here!" screamed Carlos.
It was insane! The assassin was directing the invaders directly toward him, to him! Reason was madness, nothing on the earth made sense snowstormacciotrombonefiretrucklalalalalala!
The door was crashed open by a tall man in a black overcoat; someone was with him, but Jason magicitefloundersepulchertomorrow could not see. The mists were filling his eyes, shapes and sounds becoming obscured, blurred. He was buggeritmelinniumtaco79334jjjjjkdkfff rolling in space. Away . . 3432monkeydog! . away.
See? By making the text obscured and annoying to read, I put you right in the moment!
No, wait, then again, that doesn't make sense.
Dear Mr. Greengrass,
A man named Alexander Moviecamera worked hard to create the tools you work with, and he would be very disappointed at how you abuse them. Please stop. If I wanted to not see what was going on in your movies, I could do it for free at home.
Your pal, Sam
But don't get the impression that "Ultimatum" is all "shaky-cam" fight sequences, because there's also a lot of Matt Damon walking while talking on a cell phone.* I think Matt must have some amazing clause in his contract, where any Hollywood movie must contain at least one sequence of him walking while talking on a cell phone. How many hundreds of hours of video tape have been used, in his brief career, to shoot that one scene? It's a waste, really. Each studio should take time out to shoot one really good "Matt Damon/cell phone" scene so they can re-dub it with whatever line they need him to say in the future.
The only other thing of note about "Ultimatum" is that Julia Stiles is in it, playing a character that is just as disposable as it was in "The Bourne Identity" and "The Bourne Supremacy". She's gotta have a contract to rival Damon's.
*Matt Hannum with the assist on this joke.
Friday, August 3, 2007
What's Next?
Once upon a time, humans lived outside.
No, wait, no they didn't.
They couldn't live "outside" because there was no "outside." It didn't exist. There was no inside for anywhere to be outside of.
Humans had to create "inside": the physical spaces, a word that means "inside", and the vague notion that one bit of air is different from all the rest just because you lash together a couple of branches in a clearing.
And once humans did all that stuff: tricky lashing and wordsmithing and conceptualizing, they sat back and they relaxed.
"This is INside" they said. "We're not out in the cold anymore, we're in the slightly-less-cold, which is better. We're not like those . . . animals . . . OUTside. We're people, and we live here in the comfort, security, and slightly-less-cold that can only be provided by branches. See? We've got 'em lashed, and everything."
But then a curious thing happened. In the very act of saying those words, every human suddenly wanted to be outside again. What was going on out there? What was the weather like? It was a problem, and it ate at them.
For a long time, the only solution was to go back into the harsh outside world. But in time humans developed better insides, ones with solid walls, and fresh off the invention of the first door, they had an idea.
"We'll just cut a hole in the side!"
And so the first window stole the thunder of the first door, and that's why doors hate windows to this very day.*
Now people had the indoors with some of the outdoors, and that nearly did the trick. But . . . you know, it was a little too much of the outdoors. What was the point of all those walls if the cold was still coming in? So they took the wall piece they'd cut out and put it on a hinge next to the window, and that was the first shutter. Now people could be inside, see what was going on outside, and still be slightly-less-cold when they wanted. But it wasn't over yet. People missed the plants too!
The people took a container, filled it with dirt from outside, put one of the plants in it, and created the first "potted plant." But there was no rain inside and the plant started to die. So the people went out and got water. The container held all that water, and the plant started to die again. So the people put holes in the container to keep it from containing so much! Then they put a dish under the container to catch all the things it couldn't contain anymore because they put holes in it!
It was a lot of trouble.
And that's why people learned to manufacture plastic, so they could form it into something that LOOKED like a plant, but didn't get dirt and water all over the place. We have fake plants, people, and we make believe that they're real so it will seem like we're outside, even though we're inside.
With all that in mind, I'd like you to watch this.
*I have no idea what this means.
No, wait, no they didn't.
They couldn't live "outside" because there was no "outside." It didn't exist. There was no inside for anywhere to be outside of.
Humans had to create "inside": the physical spaces, a word that means "inside", and the vague notion that one bit of air is different from all the rest just because you lash together a couple of branches in a clearing.
And once humans did all that stuff: tricky lashing and wordsmithing and conceptualizing, they sat back and they relaxed.
"This is INside" they said. "We're not out in the cold anymore, we're in the slightly-less-cold, which is better. We're not like those . . . animals . . . OUTside. We're people, and we live here in the comfort, security, and slightly-less-cold that can only be provided by branches. See? We've got 'em lashed, and everything."
But then a curious thing happened. In the very act of saying those words, every human suddenly wanted to be outside again. What was going on out there? What was the weather like? It was a problem, and it ate at them.
For a long time, the only solution was to go back into the harsh outside world. But in time humans developed better insides, ones with solid walls, and fresh off the invention of the first door, they had an idea.
"We'll just cut a hole in the side!"
And so the first window stole the thunder of the first door, and that's why doors hate windows to this very day.*
Now people had the indoors with some of the outdoors, and that nearly did the trick. But . . . you know, it was a little too much of the outdoors. What was the point of all those walls if the cold was still coming in? So they took the wall piece they'd cut out and put it on a hinge next to the window, and that was the first shutter. Now people could be inside, see what was going on outside, and still be slightly-less-cold when they wanted. But it wasn't over yet. People missed the plants too!
The people took a container, filled it with dirt from outside, put one of the plants in it, and created the first "potted plant." But there was no rain inside and the plant started to die. So the people went out and got water. The container held all that water, and the plant started to die again. So the people put holes in the container to keep it from containing so much! Then they put a dish under the container to catch all the things it couldn't contain anymore because they put holes in it!
It was a lot of trouble.
And that's why people learned to manufacture plastic, so they could form it into something that LOOKED like a plant, but didn't get dirt and water all over the place. We have fake plants, people, and we make believe that they're real so it will seem like we're outside, even though we're inside.
With all that in mind, I'd like you to watch this.
*I have no idea what this means.
Friday, July 27, 2007
It's fun to play with words!
The enemies in Resident Evil 4 are NOT zombies. The game is very clear on this point.
Instead, the enemies in Resident Evil 4 are humans that have been infected with something, causing them to shamble around and attack anyone who isn't infected.
. . .
Wait a minute.
Last time I checked, the English language had a word for "humans that have been infected with something, causing them to shamble around and attack anyone who isn't infected", and that word was "zombies". And even if the RE4 enemies aren't zombies "proper" (infected with a parasite instead of a virus, able to speak and use simple tools) they're at least close enough that we can lump them in with the traditional definition. But don't you DARE call them "zombies" on the gamefaqs.com message boards, because they're NOT zombies. The game said so. And you will get called on it.
I'm always fascinated when creative people, like the ones who made RE4, wield this kind of linguistic power. They are arguing with an entire language, and somehow they're winning. It's amazing, and I want in on it. Here are some of my suggestions for Resident Evil 5:
No more guns. The main character will instead fight with metal devices that fire small projectiles by using gunpowder, and these weapons will be called . . . sherbets. I can't wait to see the first walkthrough that discusses, in minute detail, why the Blacktail sherbet is superior to the Punisher sherbet even though the Punisher sherbet can shoot through more than one enemy at a time.
And speaking of enemies, RE5 should have the things-that-aren't-zombies-even-though-they-totally-are from RE4, but then we'll add these new guys who wear all black, carry katanas, and hide in the shadows. But they won't be ninjas*, they'll be . . . tulips. And when you find yourself swarmed by a horde of tulips, you'll pull out your trusty Semi-automatic Sniper Sherbet and show them who's boss! If you get overwhelmed, you can always bring out a . . . flounder . . . pull the pin, toss it into the crowd and watch it explode.
I'll bet this technique can be applied to all sorts of things. For instance, if I wanted my field of expertise to sound more legitimate, I could just add "science" to the end of it, even if the field has nothing to do with scientific method! Or I could take a clearance sale and call it a "price drop"! The possibilities are endless!
*The Zombie-Ninja crossover is a nearly untapped goldmine. "Versus" was pretty cool, though.
Instead, the enemies in Resident Evil 4 are humans that have been infected with something, causing them to shamble around and attack anyone who isn't infected.
. . .
Wait a minute.
Last time I checked, the English language had a word for "humans that have been infected with something, causing them to shamble around and attack anyone who isn't infected", and that word was "zombies". And even if the RE4 enemies aren't zombies "proper" (infected with a parasite instead of a virus, able to speak and use simple tools) they're at least close enough that we can lump them in with the traditional definition. But don't you DARE call them "zombies" on the gamefaqs.com message boards, because they're NOT zombies. The game said so. And you will get called on it.
I'm always fascinated when creative people, like the ones who made RE4, wield this kind of linguistic power. They are arguing with an entire language, and somehow they're winning. It's amazing, and I want in on it. Here are some of my suggestions for Resident Evil 5:
No more guns. The main character will instead fight with metal devices that fire small projectiles by using gunpowder, and these weapons will be called . . . sherbets. I can't wait to see the first walkthrough that discusses, in minute detail, why the Blacktail sherbet is superior to the Punisher sherbet even though the Punisher sherbet can shoot through more than one enemy at a time.
And speaking of enemies, RE5 should have the things-that-aren't-zombies-even-though-they-totally-are from RE4, but then we'll add these new guys who wear all black, carry katanas, and hide in the shadows. But they won't be ninjas*, they'll be . . . tulips. And when you find yourself swarmed by a horde of tulips, you'll pull out your trusty Semi-automatic Sniper Sherbet and show them who's boss! If you get overwhelmed, you can always bring out a . . . flounder . . . pull the pin, toss it into the crowd and watch it explode.
I'll bet this technique can be applied to all sorts of things. For instance, if I wanted my field of expertise to sound more legitimate, I could just add "science" to the end of it, even if the field has nothing to do with scientific method! Or I could take a clearance sale and call it a "price drop"! The possibilities are endless!
*The Zombie-Ninja crossover is a nearly untapped goldmine. "Versus" was pretty cool, though.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Robert's Rules of Shutup
Human civilization is really about ***holes. All of the systems that we use to create stability are born out of a need to cope with the existence of ***holes, and their craft, which I assume is called ***holery.
Laws - The idea here is that you can only be so much of an a**hole, then you get in trouble. That helps the problem, although some ***holes are crafty enough to work around the laws.
Governments - These are systems created to deal with those crafty ***holes. Since most real ***holes want power, you can use it as bait to funnel them into a single place. That doesn't exactly deal with the ***holes, but at least you can see what you're dealing with.
Once you've done that, you need some way to minimize the effect of the ***holes.
Monarchy - There's only one ***hole. He's a really big a**hole and he's got all the power, but he keeps a lot of other ***holes from getting very far.
Democracy - There are lots of ***holes, but they're constantly tied up fighting with one another. And since they depend on votes to gain control, they at least have to be careful about how and when they act like ***holes.
Oligarchy - Let's just all be ***holes, but collectively, and toward some other people. People who aren't us.
What's interesting about all our solutions to the "***hole Conundrum" is that they are passive. They are designed for people who are not willing to lead revolutions, lobby for change, or tell other people that they shouldn't be acting like ***holes in the first place. The good, by grace of being good, are not motivated to seek power, not even enough to keep ***holes out of power.
And this creates a perception that ***holes are indestructible, that they are everywhere and everyone, that they are always after you.
Wikipedia - There aren't as many ***holes as you think.
The people behind Wikipedia have put forth a really interesting idea. Give everyone real, direct control over something. Give each person power over every other person. Let each one create and destroy.* And most importantly, keep everyone on exactly the same level.
And in doing this, they have made an assumption: that good and useful information will rule, that lies and vandalism will be held back, that eventually ***holes get bored and go home.
Like the other solutions, it's not perfect, but it's something to think about.
*Except on the Harry Potter article, which is locked until further notice.
Laws - The idea here is that you can only be so much of an a**hole, then you get in trouble. That helps the problem, although some ***holes are crafty enough to work around the laws.
Governments - These are systems created to deal with those crafty ***holes. Since most real ***holes want power, you can use it as bait to funnel them into a single place. That doesn't exactly deal with the ***holes, but at least you can see what you're dealing with.
Once you've done that, you need some way to minimize the effect of the ***holes.
Monarchy - There's only one ***hole. He's a really big a**hole and he's got all the power, but he keeps a lot of other ***holes from getting very far.
Democracy - There are lots of ***holes, but they're constantly tied up fighting with one another. And since they depend on votes to gain control, they at least have to be careful about how and when they act like ***holes.
Oligarchy - Let's just all be ***holes, but collectively, and toward some other people. People who aren't us.
What's interesting about all our solutions to the "***hole Conundrum" is that they are passive. They are designed for people who are not willing to lead revolutions, lobby for change, or tell other people that they shouldn't be acting like ***holes in the first place. The good, by grace of being good, are not motivated to seek power, not even enough to keep ***holes out of power.
And this creates a perception that ***holes are indestructible, that they are everywhere and everyone, that they are always after you.
Wikipedia - There aren't as many ***holes as you think.
The people behind Wikipedia have put forth a really interesting idea. Give everyone real, direct control over something. Give each person power over every other person. Let each one create and destroy.* And most importantly, keep everyone on exactly the same level.
And in doing this, they have made an assumption: that good and useful information will rule, that lies and vandalism will be held back, that eventually ***holes get bored and go home.
Like the other solutions, it's not perfect, but it's something to think about.
*Except on the Harry Potter article, which is locked until further notice.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Idiolectica
fua n (2001): a woman seen in the social company of a male friend, when the nature of their relationship is not clear
Have you ever seen some guy you know, and he's out somewhere with a girl, maybe you know her or maybe you don't, and they're clearly "together" but you don't have any indication if it's a date or not? Is she his girlfriend? Is she someone he's dating? Is she a friend? In that situation, she is a "fua", a "Female of Unknown Association".
I've coined a few words and phrases over the years, and I'd really like to see them added into the general lexicon. I'm sure most of these will never take off, but "fua" is one that I think we need, there simply isn't another word for a person in that particular situation. In fact, we also need a term for when a guy is hanging out with a former girlfriend, but you don't know why. Are they back together? Are they trying to reconcile? Are they just friends? She's a . . .
I don't have an answer for that one. I've tried. "Dua" is the only thing that jumps out at me, since she's a "fua" for a second time, but then that loses the whole acronym idea. "Ex-girlfriend of Unknown Association" would make "Egua", which doesn't quite roll off the tongue. Maybe I should just consider the whole thing an extension of pancake amnesia.
pancake amnesia n (2003): a psychological phenomenon where a person will do something they swore they'd never do again, simply because they forgot what was bad about it
Call anyone you know right now. Suggest that you both go get some pancakes. That person will probably say yes.
Pancakes always sound like the best idea in the world. "Of course, pancakes!" you say, "Pancakes are great! Why don't we eat pancakes all the time?" But then, about halfway through your three-stack, you remember: it's fried batter covered in syrup. That's only good for the first few bites, when your body realizes that you're asking it to mix some sort of confectionery concrete in your stomach. At that point you look down and say "Man, I'm not going to be eating pancakes for a while after this."
But even one week later, someone could casually mention IHOP and "OF COURSE, PANCAKES!"
And I know what you're saying. You think I'm wrong. "No, Sam, you just haven't had pancakes the way ______ makes them. If you had those you wouldn't get tired of them." And the sad part is that I know you're wrong, but I'd go have some pancakes the way ______ makes them, because now that I'm talking about it I really want some pancakes.
"Pancake amnesia" might require a lot of explanation to understand, but it's applicable in lots of situations. People have a strange tendency to make certain mistakes over and over again. Fortunately every mistake has a "dune buggy point".
dune buggy point n (2007): the point at which a person knows that he or she has gone too far
This one is a direct reference. There's an episode of "The Simpsons" that deals with a trillion-dollar bill, and at one point Lisa says "We're trillionaires! Let's buy dune buggies!". I love that line because I can imagine it happening. A person has so much money that he runs out of things to spend it on, so he decides to buy a dune buggy, then realizes that neither he nor anyone else has any practical reason to own one. The "dune buggy point" is the place where you say to yourself, "I should probably find something else to do."*
*Dune buggies are cool though. So are snipers. If you had a sniper in a dune buggy, it'd be the most awesome thing ever.
Have you ever seen some guy you know, and he's out somewhere with a girl, maybe you know her or maybe you don't, and they're clearly "together" but you don't have any indication if it's a date or not? Is she his girlfriend? Is she someone he's dating? Is she a friend? In that situation, she is a "fua", a "Female of Unknown Association".
I've coined a few words and phrases over the years, and I'd really like to see them added into the general lexicon. I'm sure most of these will never take off, but "fua" is one that I think we need, there simply isn't another word for a person in that particular situation. In fact, we also need a term for when a guy is hanging out with a former girlfriend, but you don't know why. Are they back together? Are they trying to reconcile? Are they just friends? She's a . . .
I don't have an answer for that one. I've tried. "Dua" is the only thing that jumps out at me, since she's a "fua" for a second time, but then that loses the whole acronym idea. "Ex-girlfriend of Unknown Association" would make "Egua", which doesn't quite roll off the tongue. Maybe I should just consider the whole thing an extension of pancake amnesia.
pancake amnesia n (2003): a psychological phenomenon where a person will do something they swore they'd never do again, simply because they forgot what was bad about it
Call anyone you know right now. Suggest that you both go get some pancakes. That person will probably say yes.
Pancakes always sound like the best idea in the world. "Of course, pancakes!" you say, "Pancakes are great! Why don't we eat pancakes all the time?" But then, about halfway through your three-stack, you remember: it's fried batter covered in syrup. That's only good for the first few bites, when your body realizes that you're asking it to mix some sort of confectionery concrete in your stomach. At that point you look down and say "Man, I'm not going to be eating pancakes for a while after this."
But even one week later, someone could casually mention IHOP and "OF COURSE, PANCAKES!"
And I know what you're saying. You think I'm wrong. "No, Sam, you just haven't had pancakes the way ______ makes them. If you had those you wouldn't get tired of them." And the sad part is that I know you're wrong, but I'd go have some pancakes the way ______ makes them, because now that I'm talking about it I really want some pancakes.
"Pancake amnesia" might require a lot of explanation to understand, but it's applicable in lots of situations. People have a strange tendency to make certain mistakes over and over again. Fortunately every mistake has a "dune buggy point".
dune buggy point n (2007): the point at which a person knows that he or she has gone too far
This one is a direct reference. There's an episode of "The Simpsons" that deals with a trillion-dollar bill, and at one point Lisa says "We're trillionaires! Let's buy dune buggies!". I love that line because I can imagine it happening. A person has so much money that he runs out of things to spend it on, so he decides to buy a dune buggy, then realizes that neither he nor anyone else has any practical reason to own one. The "dune buggy point" is the place where you say to yourself, "I should probably find something else to do."*
*Dune buggies are cool though. So are snipers. If you had a sniper in a dune buggy, it'd be the most awesome thing ever.
Friday, July 6, 2007
IT USUALLY ISN'T
Death was not what I expected.
It was just so impersonal. It's like the first time you fly on an airplane. You've made all these plans, bought your tickets, packed your luggage, picked out snacks for the flight. Then you get to the airport and realize "Oh, I guess all these people . . . they want to go somewhere too." Somehow you forgot that, yes, THOUSANDS of people fly out of every major airport on a given day. You'd focused on the flight itself and how excited you'd be: "I'm off to my vacation!" you'd said, your ticket clutched in your hand.
Then you got out of the cab and realized that it's not that simple, you can't go anywhere in an airport until you solve an elaborate logic puzzle with gates and kiosks and lines on the floor like some kind of "Wizard of Oz" theme park. And you can't ever stop to think because there are about a thousand people behind you who need to go in every direction you're considering.
And that's what death is like. One minute you're freaked out about "oh no the reserve chute didn't open" and "what's going to happen to my car" and "guess I'm not going to eat the other half of that sandwich", then the next minute you're standing in line trying to figure out where gate 352B is. It was quite a shock to me. Yet, at the same time it all made sense. When humanity was young I guess all you needed was one guy on a horse with a scythe. It was Death built for a small, agrarian society. But with six billion people in the world, eventually we required something that could handle huge numbers on a daily basis. So Death became an airport.
But not exactly. It's different. There are all these signs in really big capital letters, and you have to read them before you can go anywhere. The first one just says "YOU ARE DEAD" a hundred feet high. I laughed at that one. I mean, come on, I KNOW. Reserve chute didn't open, ground rushing up, hey there's a deer "hi buddy!", dark, I'm dead, I gotcha. But as I passed by that sign I saw all these people arguing with it. Yes, arguing with the sign. "I am not!" "You'd better send me back right now!" "I pay my taxes and those pay your salary!" And it was like that at all the other signs too:
"NO YOU CANNOT GO GET YOUR STUFF."
"YES YOU ARE DEAD FOR REAL."
"NO YOU CAN'T GO BACK UNTIL YOU FINISH THE LAST HARRY POTTER BOOK".
"NO WE DO NOT KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THE LAST HARRY POTTER BOOK."
And then there was all this paperwork. There are huge rooms of people, like God's blood drive, reading laminated booklets of their lives. Some of the booklet really makes sense: people you helped, people you hurt, people you neglected, all things that I think a person should review before moving on to the afterlife. But then some of it is really weird. "Bugs that crawled on you when you were asleep." "How close you came to finding stuff that you lost." "Things you didn't know you ate." I'm not sure if that's information you really need, or if someone there just thinks it's funny to tell you.
There are statistics too, statistics on everything:
"Games of Scrabble won:"
"Pounds of spit produced:"
"Number of monkeys seen:"
And there's a whole section of numerical ratings on things like "Accuracy", "Number of Secret Items Found" , and "Overall Score", none of which are given any kind of explanation or scale. And you know it's rude to look at someone else's form, I mean this is as personal as it gets, but you still have that wandering eye you developed when teachers handed your essays back.
The last page of the booklet is called "How else it could have gone." It's a list of all these bad things that happened to you, like when you got sick or pulled out into traffic at the wrong time or just tripped over your own feet. And next to each one there's a red stamp.
And no matter who you are, when you finish that page you flip the book closed, look at your name on the cover, let out a deep breath, and walk up to the counter with your coat.
But you know, no matter how much of a hassle the airport was, you make it to that plane eventually. You relax, open one of your candy bars, and wonder what the beach will be like.*
*Hell is arguing with a sign.
It was just so impersonal. It's like the first time you fly on an airplane. You've made all these plans, bought your tickets, packed your luggage, picked out snacks for the flight. Then you get to the airport and realize "Oh, I guess all these people . . . they want to go somewhere too." Somehow you forgot that, yes, THOUSANDS of people fly out of every major airport on a given day. You'd focused on the flight itself and how excited you'd be: "I'm off to my vacation!" you'd said, your ticket clutched in your hand.
Then you got out of the cab and realized that it's not that simple, you can't go anywhere in an airport until you solve an elaborate logic puzzle with gates and kiosks and lines on the floor like some kind of "Wizard of Oz" theme park. And you can't ever stop to think because there are about a thousand people behind you who need to go in every direction you're considering.
And that's what death is like. One minute you're freaked out about "oh no the reserve chute didn't open" and "what's going to happen to my car" and "guess I'm not going to eat the other half of that sandwich", then the next minute you're standing in line trying to figure out where gate 352B is. It was quite a shock to me. Yet, at the same time it all made sense. When humanity was young I guess all you needed was one guy on a horse with a scythe. It was Death built for a small, agrarian society. But with six billion people in the world, eventually we required something that could handle huge numbers on a daily basis. So Death became an airport.
But not exactly. It's different. There are all these signs in really big capital letters, and you have to read them before you can go anywhere. The first one just says "YOU ARE DEAD" a hundred feet high. I laughed at that one. I mean, come on, I KNOW. Reserve chute didn't open, ground rushing up, hey there's a deer "hi buddy!", dark, I'm dead, I gotcha. But as I passed by that sign I saw all these people arguing with it. Yes, arguing with the sign. "I am not!" "You'd better send me back right now!" "I pay my taxes and those pay your salary!" And it was like that at all the other signs too:
"NO YOU CANNOT GO GET YOUR STUFF."
"YES YOU ARE DEAD FOR REAL."
"NO YOU CAN'T GO BACK UNTIL YOU FINISH THE LAST HARRY POTTER BOOK".
"NO WE DO NOT KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THE LAST HARRY POTTER BOOK."
And then there was all this paperwork. There are huge rooms of people, like God's blood drive, reading laminated booklets of their lives. Some of the booklet really makes sense: people you helped, people you hurt, people you neglected, all things that I think a person should review before moving on to the afterlife. But then some of it is really weird. "Bugs that crawled on you when you were asleep." "How close you came to finding stuff that you lost." "Things you didn't know you ate." I'm not sure if that's information you really need, or if someone there just thinks it's funny to tell you.
There are statistics too, statistics on everything:
"Games of Scrabble won:"
"Pounds of spit produced:"
"Number of monkeys seen:"
And there's a whole section of numerical ratings on things like "Accuracy", "Number of Secret Items Found" , and "Overall Score", none of which are given any kind of explanation or scale. And you know it's rude to look at someone else's form, I mean this is as personal as it gets, but you still have that wandering eye you developed when teachers handed your essays back.
The last page of the booklet is called "How else it could have gone." It's a list of all these bad things that happened to you, like when you got sick or pulled out into traffic at the wrong time or just tripped over your own feet. And next to each one there's a red stamp.
And no matter who you are, when you finish that page you flip the book closed, look at your name on the cover, let out a deep breath, and walk up to the counter with your coat.
But you know, no matter how much of a hassle the airport was, you make it to that plane eventually. You relax, open one of your candy bars, and wonder what the beach will be like.*
*Hell is arguing with a sign.
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