Thank you. Thank you stranger.
Where would I be now without you? What kind of person would I have become? Would I still be the sort of wretch I once was, before you came along?
There was a time . . . it seems like several lifetimes ago . . . I was so naive about everything: politics, religion, even the very world around me! I was a part of the problem.
But then in one fell swoop you changed my whole perspective. You taught me about all the evils of our time, and how we can all live in peace.
I'll never forget that day, stranger, the day I read the bumper stickers on your mid-90's Honda Accord with one broken tail light.
Each one was special, but I think the "Coexist" sticker had the most powerful effect. Something about the way it was written out all in religious symbols . . . so clever! Yet so true. So very true. If only we could get that message to all the countries in the world where religious intolerance exists today, we could change everything! People would stop, mid-persecution, and realize how wrong they'd been. Even if religion was only an excuse used to cover up more serious cultural and economic motivations, even then the tyrants would be left stunned . . . if only they could be stuck behind you at a red light.
And then there was your "F The President" sticker, right there in the center of your rear window. I was so shocked. I didn't even know that some people didn't like our president! I thought the job he'd been doing was actually super-good. But you knew better. And you knew that only by purchasing a sticker of your beliefs and slapping it on your window could you ever change people's minds . . . and hearts.
When I meditate (as I do nightly) on your wisdom, I wonder: Does that sticker mean you're giving the president a grade of "F?" Or is it short for the expletive, and you're saying "F the President" If only the light hadn't changed when it did, I would have asked.
Oh if only you hadn't driven away, how much more I would know now. I could have posed all my questions to you and been enlightened by your informed, well-thought-out arguments on each one. And your ideas wouldn't be based on egotistical snobbery, like so many others in the world, but on calm and careful reasoning that points to a clear, comprehensive plan for action.
As I consider each one of your nineteen other bumper stickers*, divining out their tenants on heath care, war, and global warming, I take comfort in knowing you're still out there changing the world, one stop sign at a time.
*One of which is always a Mac Apple.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
Cope
There are these things we say that don't have any actual meaning, if you stop to think about them. They are pure filler, existing just to take up space in conversation:
-Every dinner discussion of religion will undoubtedly end with someone sing-songing: "Well-in-the-end, it-all-comes-down, to-a-matter-of-personal-faith." And that phrase will end the conversation every time, no matter what issue or religion you're talking about. It doesn't have to have a direct correlation either, it just means "I'm tired of talking about this, for the love of whatever god you believe in lets move on."
-"I know just enough to be dangerous" is one that drives me crazy. First of all, knowledge doesn't just make you dangerous by itself. Thinking that you know more than you do, now that's dangerous. But if you're using that phrase, then you know how little you know, so you should probably just not do the thing you're dangerous at. It doesn't make any sense, but people say it anyway, and other people chuckle, even though it's totally not funny.
-Saying "lets shed a little light on the subject" when you hit a light switch. This one is, I'm fairly sure, limited exclusively to my mother.
And those are just the day-to-day meaningless phrases. We have more complex ones for more complex situations.
Break-up talks often use this little gem: "I just need to figure some things out" and the even more hilarious, "YOU just need to figure some things out."
The implication here is that human beings achieve emotional stability through a complex series of calculations! It's as though the person is going to retreat into a quiet library with an abacus and a box of tissues, gradually working out some kind of psychological sudoku puzzle until they sit bolt upright and yell, "Of course! Six and Eight have to be in the bottom block, so only seven can go in the middle square! That's why I'm scared of intimacy!"
But I think my favorite of these phrases is the tragic-news go-to: "Let me know if there's anything I can do."
I know it's just a nice thing to say, but I always find it difficult to hear, because . . . . I mean seriously . . .
How can I let an opportunity like that go?
"Actually there is something you can do, get me fifteen red paper clips."*
"What?"
"Paper clips. Red. Fifteen exactly. I don't care what size."
"Well, ok . . . why?"
"Just get them. RIGHT NOW."
*Other options
1. A blond wig, a can of motor oil, and a glass eye.
2. A gold plated hand puppet in the shape of a monkey.
3. Swords . . . SWORDS.
-Every dinner discussion of religion will undoubtedly end with someone sing-songing: "Well-in-the-end, it-all-comes-down, to-a-matter-of-personal-faith." And that phrase will end the conversation every time, no matter what issue or religion you're talking about. It doesn't have to have a direct correlation either, it just means "I'm tired of talking about this, for the love of whatever god you believe in lets move on."
-"I know just enough to be dangerous" is one that drives me crazy. First of all, knowledge doesn't just make you dangerous by itself. Thinking that you know more than you do, now that's dangerous. But if you're using that phrase, then you know how little you know, so you should probably just not do the thing you're dangerous at. It doesn't make any sense, but people say it anyway, and other people chuckle, even though it's totally not funny.
-Saying "lets shed a little light on the subject" when you hit a light switch. This one is, I'm fairly sure, limited exclusively to my mother.
And those are just the day-to-day meaningless phrases. We have more complex ones for more complex situations.
Break-up talks often use this little gem: "I just need to figure some things out" and the even more hilarious, "YOU just need to figure some things out."
The implication here is that human beings achieve emotional stability through a complex series of calculations! It's as though the person is going to retreat into a quiet library with an abacus and a box of tissues, gradually working out some kind of psychological sudoku puzzle until they sit bolt upright and yell, "Of course! Six and Eight have to be in the bottom block, so only seven can go in the middle square! That's why I'm scared of intimacy!"
But I think my favorite of these phrases is the tragic-news go-to: "Let me know if there's anything I can do."
I know it's just a nice thing to say, but I always find it difficult to hear, because . . . . I mean seriously . . .
How can I let an opportunity like that go?
"Actually there is something you can do, get me fifteen red paper clips."*
"What?"
"Paper clips. Red. Fifteen exactly. I don't care what size."
"Well, ok . . . why?"
"Just get them. RIGHT NOW."
*Other options
1. A blond wig, a can of motor oil, and a glass eye.
2. A gold plated hand puppet in the shape of a monkey.
3. Swords . . . SWORDS.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Earthworm
As long as we've been friends, I've thought of us as two sides of the same coin.
At the core we're both relentlessly idealistic, and like most idealists we've encountered a lot of disappointment. But where I cope with it by enduring, walling myself off and plowing forward, she copes by fleeting, preferring to sink than run aground. It's like the tortoise and the hare.
And I'm not saying that my way is better than hers. Both methods have their benefits, both their consequences. I just want to point out that, even though we seem different on the surface, the internal struggle is the same. Heads and Tails. Walling and Fleeting.
So I shouldn't be surprised at the latest dichotomy in our outlooks, but I was. I'd been so sure of my way of thinking.
Rejection of the material is a big deal, spiritually speaking.* The Bible says that "the love of money" (Not money, itself, mind you. That gets misquoted all the time.) is "the root of all evil." And that's just the best known quote. Nearly every major world religion, morality play, or sappy Christmas special has something to say about how material possessions don't bring happiness.**
Which is why I always assumed that the physical world wasn't important, that only in the spirit could we find God. So I devalued the material. If the things of this earth aren't worth anything, I have no reason to want them. If I don't want them, they can't weigh me down.
And that's why she caught me completely off guard. She loves the flesh of things, in the sensing of them. She smiles at how disgusting she finds a crawling bug to be. She'll suck the lemon juice from a wedge just to experience how sour it is. She even likes cash, cash and the very idea of commerce. She finds God in the physical, almost entirely in the physical! Somehow she came the other way around on it all, giving the the material world so much value that it became spirit.
Heads and Tails, I guess.
*You'll note that the last time I talked about spirituality, it also involved "rejecting the physical"
**Except for certain snowmen, who seem to think that money is everything.
At the core we're both relentlessly idealistic, and like most idealists we've encountered a lot of disappointment. But where I cope with it by enduring, walling myself off and plowing forward, she copes by fleeting, preferring to sink than run aground. It's like the tortoise and the hare.
And I'm not saying that my way is better than hers. Both methods have their benefits, both their consequences. I just want to point out that, even though we seem different on the surface, the internal struggle is the same. Heads and Tails. Walling and Fleeting.
So I shouldn't be surprised at the latest dichotomy in our outlooks, but I was. I'd been so sure of my way of thinking.
Rejection of the material is a big deal, spiritually speaking.* The Bible says that "the love of money" (Not money, itself, mind you. That gets misquoted all the time.) is "the root of all evil." And that's just the best known quote. Nearly every major world religion, morality play, or sappy Christmas special has something to say about how material possessions don't bring happiness.**
Which is why I always assumed that the physical world wasn't important, that only in the spirit could we find God. So I devalued the material. If the things of this earth aren't worth anything, I have no reason to want them. If I don't want them, they can't weigh me down.
And that's why she caught me completely off guard. She loves the flesh of things, in the sensing of them. She smiles at how disgusting she finds a crawling bug to be. She'll suck the lemon juice from a wedge just to experience how sour it is. She even likes cash, cash and the very idea of commerce. She finds God in the physical, almost entirely in the physical! Somehow she came the other way around on it all, giving the the material world so much value that it became spirit.
Heads and Tails, I guess.
*You'll note that the last time I talked about spirituality, it also involved "rejecting the physical"
**Except for certain snowmen, who seem to think that money is everything.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Zen and the Art
I'm not saying that motorcycles aren't cool. I'm not even saying that they aren't safe to operate.
What I'm saying is that if you went to an amusement park, and it had a ride that went eighty miles per hour but had no seat belts, and instead of cars it had chairs in the open air, you would NOT get on that ride.
And really, even that comparison is too gracious. A roller coaster travels, all by itself, on a set track that's regularly inspected for safety. It doesn't zip along free-form while bigger, safer roller coasters are moving all around it.
Yet everyday, people ride motorcycles, content to believe that as long as they wear a helmet and hang on real tight, everything will be fine.
Even more hilarious, there are also people content to ride while hanging onto the driver, assuming not only that they can hang onto him, but that he can hang onto the motorcycle while a whole other person is hanging onto him.
The more you think about it, the more ridiculous it becomes.
Now, my critics will respond that riding a motorcycle is a spiritual experience, pure freedom from metal and gasoline. Deus ex machina . . .
And to that I'd respond, "If trusting your life to the average 16-year-old in an SUV is the only way you can feed your soul, you might have some other issues that need to be taken care of first."
But jokes aside, I'm not entirely sure that the critics are wrong. If there's some element of chance, of danger, in everything we do, then "playing it safe" is just a matter of playing the odds.
It's like the "pot odds" in poker. Sometimes there are situations where, even if probability is against you, the reward is so great that you're better off taking the chance. Sometimes it's worth it. Sometimes it's really worth it.*
*Not that I'm going to start riding motorcycles. I'm not stupid.
What I'm saying is that if you went to an amusement park, and it had a ride that went eighty miles per hour but had no seat belts, and instead of cars it had chairs in the open air, you would NOT get on that ride.
And really, even that comparison is too gracious. A roller coaster travels, all by itself, on a set track that's regularly inspected for safety. It doesn't zip along free-form while bigger, safer roller coasters are moving all around it.
Yet everyday, people ride motorcycles, content to believe that as long as they wear a helmet and hang on real tight, everything will be fine.
Even more hilarious, there are also people content to ride while hanging onto the driver, assuming not only that they can hang onto him, but that he can hang onto the motorcycle while a whole other person is hanging onto him.
The more you think about it, the more ridiculous it becomes.
Now, my critics will respond that riding a motorcycle is a spiritual experience, pure freedom from metal and gasoline. Deus ex machina . . .
And to that I'd respond, "If trusting your life to the average 16-year-old in an SUV is the only way you can feed your soul, you might have some other issues that need to be taken care of first."
But jokes aside, I'm not entirely sure that the critics are wrong. If there's some element of chance, of danger, in everything we do, then "playing it safe" is just a matter of playing the odds.
It's like the "pot odds" in poker. Sometimes there are situations where, even if probability is against you, the reward is so great that you're better off taking the chance. Sometimes it's worth it. Sometimes it's really worth it.*
*Not that I'm going to start riding motorcycles. I'm not stupid.
Friday, March 21, 2008
A brief list of things I wish people knew
1. Cavalry is a military term for mounted units. Calvary is the place where Jesus died.
I know it's tricky, they have the same letters and everything. And it's not helped by the existence of Mount Calvary, Wisconsin, which only confuses the issue further. But every time someone says that "the calvary is coming," I picture hundreds of crosses hopping to my rescue.
2. The ellipsis is a grammatical tool, not a toy
Acceptable uses:
Indicating that a word has been left out of a sentence.
Example: "Why don't you understand how to use a . . . ellipsis?" (where the . . . takes the place of an expletive)
Conveying a pause in speech:
Example: "I don't know why you put ellipses all over this email . . . . yeah, that's pretty obnoxious."
And marking an unfinished thought, or one that trails off to silence.
Example: "You should really be punished for your crimes against English, but how . . . "
Unacceptable uses:
To separate thoughts, as an alternative to the "sentence."
Example: "Hi . . . just wanted to shoot you an email . . . how are you . . . I like stuff . . . there are big buildings here . . . "
At both the beginning and end of your subject line, for no reason
Example: Subject: . . . hi . . .
I know it's tricky, they have the same letters and everything. And it's not helped by the existence of Mount Calvary, Wisconsin, which only confuses the issue further. But every time someone says that "the calvary is coming," I picture hundreds of crosses hopping to my rescue.
2. The ellipsis is a grammatical tool, not a toy
Acceptable uses:
Indicating that a word has been left out of a sentence.
Example: "Why don't you understand how to use a . . . ellipsis?" (where the . . . takes the place of an expletive)
Conveying a pause in speech:
Example: "I don't know why you put ellipses all over this email . . . . yeah, that's pretty obnoxious."
And marking an unfinished thought, or one that trails off to silence.
Example: "You should really be punished for your crimes against English, but how . . . "
Unacceptable uses:
To separate thoughts, as an alternative to the "sentence."
Example: "Hi . . . just wanted to shoot you an email . . . how are you . . . I like stuff . . . there are big buildings here . . . "
At both the beginning and end of your subject line, for no reason
Example: Subject: . . . hi . . .
Friday, March 14, 2008
Based on a True Story
-Seven text messages? Why would my phone have seven text messages? I only put it down here 5 minutes ago. And all of them are from a number I don't recognize.
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
why do you
have to be such
a jerk i dont
06/24 3:31P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
know why you
acted like that i
always hug my
friends
06/24 3:31P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
when i see them
after you date
someone for
two years you
06/24 3:32P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
would think that
you could still be
friends i know you
were out with
06/24 3:32P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
jamie even though
you told me that
you hated her
i don't see why*
06/24 3:32P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
its a big deal
that i ran up and
hugged you
i mean what
06/24 3:33P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
is your problem?
06/24 3:33P
Choose your own adventure!
*The digital era has taken a simple wrong number and used it to thrust you directly into someone else's life! Some guy with a number similar to yours is in the middle of a fight with his ex-girlfriend, and now it's part of your day!
How will you text in response?*
A. Ignore the messages, let her figure it out for herself
B. Politely inform her that she has the wrong number
C. Tell her she has the wrong number, but give her some worldly advice for her trouble
D. Step up, and go to bat for this guy, even though you've never met him
. . .
You have chosen: D. Step up, and go to bat for this guy, even though you've never met him.
Enter your response!
Message to:
(Unrecognized number)
oh come on you
know exactly what
you were doing and
at least jamie isnt a
06/24 3:35P
*It's almost like a modern haiku, isn't it?
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
why do you
have to be such
a jerk i dont
06/24 3:31P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
know why you
acted like that i
always hug my
friends
06/24 3:31P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
when i see them
after you date
someone for
two years you
06/24 3:32P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
would think that
you could still be
friends i know you
were out with
06/24 3:32P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
jamie even though
you told me that
you hated her
i don't see why*
06/24 3:32P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
its a big deal
that i ran up and
hugged you
i mean what
06/24 3:33P
Message from:
(Unrecognized number)
is your problem?
06/24 3:33P
Choose your own adventure!
*The digital era has taken a simple wrong number and used it to thrust you directly into someone else's life! Some guy with a number similar to yours is in the middle of a fight with his ex-girlfriend, and now it's part of your day!
How will you text in response?*
A. Ignore the messages, let her figure it out for herself
B. Politely inform her that she has the wrong number
C. Tell her she has the wrong number, but give her some worldly advice for her trouble
D. Step up, and go to bat for this guy, even though you've never met him
. . .
You have chosen: D. Step up, and go to bat for this guy, even though you've never met him.
Enter your response!
Message to:
(Unrecognized number)
oh come on you
know exactly what
you were doing and
at least jamie isnt a
06/24 3:35P
*It's almost like a modern haiku, isn't it?
Friday, March 7, 2008
Ok, so "Beowulf"
Don't get me wrong, the animation talent at Sony Pictures Imageworks is impressive. Beowulf does dip into the "uncanny valley," but not nearly as often as "The Polar Express" or "Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within" (bonus points if you've even heard of that second one). In fact, there are a few scenes in this film that look very, very lifelike. But just like those other super-realistic animations, I finished "Beowulf" without a good answer as to why anyone would go this route with the visual style.
Or maybe I should say "lack of style," since there's not much room for it when you're recreating things the way they actually look. There's no space for the kind of edge "The Incredibles" had with it's slick comic motif, plus you even lose the cinematographers eye that's present in a live-action movie. It's the worst of both worlds.
I wonder if some animator was up late one night, patiently waiting for his workstation to finish processing 1/100th of a second of a Angelina Jolie's individually-rendered hairs waving, and thought to himself, "You know, we have reality. We already have it. Right here. Why am I creating this actress in minute detail when we actually HIRED her?"
Oddly this is the same reaction I had to much of "The Lord of the Rings" novels. And again, don't get me wrong, I love LotR as much as the next geek. But it's the best story ever written on the subjects of walking and eating. A good fifty percent of it is: "And then they walked for a while, and then they caught a rabbit and ate it. Then they walked down a hill or something, then they had some more lembas."
There was a point where I physically shook my copy in mid-sentence and shouted "Look, J.R.R., I'm not sure you get what the selling point is here. I EAT everyday. I don't HUNT ORCS on a regular basis. Not a lot of WIZARDS or TALKING TREES in my life, ok? Let's step it up a little."
. . . But my beefs with the animation aside, "Beowulf" is ok. Nothing special, but it's alright . . . alright, and unintentionally hilarious.
First, Beowulf (the character) is completely naked for his fight with Grendel. I guess this decision was supposed to show us how brutal and fearless our hero is, but you'll be too busy laughing to pick that up. See the entire scene uses the old "obscure the naughty bits" gag you may remember from Austin Powers, and it's nothing but hilarious. I honestly can't imagine how Robert Zemeckis thought any audience could take this epic battle seriously, and not just giggle while wondering what convenient obstacle would be used next.
Note for the next film Rob: Using random objects to cover a person's naked body is funny. It's always funny. It steals every scene.
And yet, to me, that's not the best comedic moment that "Beowulf" has to offer. There's something about the way this dragon just pops up over the wall that makes me laugh again and again. Watch it three or four times in a row, it only gets better.
I keep imagining him saying "HELLO!" in a goofy, nasal voice.
Now, I do have to give "Beowulf" some credit, though, it nails the combat. Watching Wulfy climb around a dragon in mid-flight, yanking its head back by a chain, is entirely awesome. Of course, it's also entirely borrowed.* Someone in Hollywood clearly has a Playstation 2.
Normally when film critics say that a movie "looks like a video game," I take it as the jab that it is. But seeing how effective these "game" shots are at giving real scope and energy to the action scenes in "Beowulf," I think it's an accidental compliment.
I thought, when I was watching "I am Legend," that its "over the shoulder, down the gun barrel" views sure seemed familiar. And as time goes on, I'm starting to think this is a trend.
*Unlike this footnote gag, which is completely original:)
Or maybe I should say "lack of style," since there's not much room for it when you're recreating things the way they actually look. There's no space for the kind of edge "The Incredibles" had with it's slick comic motif, plus you even lose the cinematographers eye that's present in a live-action movie. It's the worst of both worlds.
I wonder if some animator was up late one night, patiently waiting for his workstation to finish processing 1/100th of a second of a Angelina Jolie's individually-rendered hairs waving, and thought to himself, "You know, we have reality. We already have it. Right here. Why am I creating this actress in minute detail when we actually HIRED her?"
Oddly this is the same reaction I had to much of "The Lord of the Rings" novels. And again, don't get me wrong, I love LotR as much as the next geek. But it's the best story ever written on the subjects of walking and eating. A good fifty percent of it is: "And then they walked for a while, and then they caught a rabbit and ate it. Then they walked down a hill or something, then they had some more lembas."
There was a point where I physically shook my copy in mid-sentence and shouted "Look, J.R.R., I'm not sure you get what the selling point is here. I EAT everyday. I don't HUNT ORCS on a regular basis. Not a lot of WIZARDS or TALKING TREES in my life, ok? Let's step it up a little."
. . . But my beefs with the animation aside, "Beowulf" is ok. Nothing special, but it's alright . . . alright, and unintentionally hilarious.
First, Beowulf (the character) is completely naked for his fight with Grendel. I guess this decision was supposed to show us how brutal and fearless our hero is, but you'll be too busy laughing to pick that up. See the entire scene uses the old "obscure the naughty bits" gag you may remember from Austin Powers, and it's nothing but hilarious. I honestly can't imagine how Robert Zemeckis thought any audience could take this epic battle seriously, and not just giggle while wondering what convenient obstacle would be used next.
Note for the next film Rob: Using random objects to cover a person's naked body is funny. It's always funny. It steals every scene.
And yet, to me, that's not the best comedic moment that "Beowulf" has to offer. There's something about the way this dragon just pops up over the wall that makes me laugh again and again. Watch it three or four times in a row, it only gets better.
I keep imagining him saying "HELLO!" in a goofy, nasal voice.
Now, I do have to give "Beowulf" some credit, though, it nails the combat. Watching Wulfy climb around a dragon in mid-flight, yanking its head back by a chain, is entirely awesome. Of course, it's also entirely borrowed.* Someone in Hollywood clearly has a Playstation 2.
Normally when film critics say that a movie "looks like a video game," I take it as the jab that it is. But seeing how effective these "game" shots are at giving real scope and energy to the action scenes in "Beowulf," I think it's an accidental compliment.
I thought, when I was watching "I am Legend," that its "over the shoulder, down the gun barrel" views sure seemed familiar. And as time goes on, I'm starting to think this is a trend.
*Unlike this footnote gag, which is completely original:)
Friday, February 29, 2008
I thought the lines disappeared when you completed them
I got a new game recently.
It's not an adventure game, really, not the way one usually thinks of them. It's more of an adventure game motif that acts as a delivery system for a few (and by few I mean 135) logic puzzles.
And it's great. I love being able to work out the old "get the wolf, sheep, and grain across the river" challenge on a little screen, moving the animals and raft around with my stylus. And I love all the side quests that the game throws in, like the one where you collect parts to build a robot dog (which, along with zombies, melee attacks, and at least one sniper rifle, is on my list of "things that should be included in every game, ever").
So I'd say that I enjoyed the game. Or a least, I enjoyed 134ths of it.
But Puzzle 135 . . .
RRRRR!
I'm not sure if you're familiar with L'ane rouge, but have a look. The name means "red donkey," probably because the first person who played it immediately screamed something about the inventor being a "communist jack*ss."
Does this kind of "sliding block" puzzle actually do anything to test your intelligence? To me it seems like a very good test of how long your brain cam be caught in a dangerous loop of arbitrarity.
Maybe solving it has nothing to do with how smart you are, it's just that you sure feel really smart when, after hours of pushing around little blocks, you finally get that big block out.
I wouldn't know. I cheated.
Now some would say that cheating defeats the purpose of playing a game. After all, you bought the game to be challenged, so by reducing or removing the challenge you've destroyed the game for yourself.
But that's not always true.
There is a difference between:
"This is an engaging challenge that I'm not willing or able to step up to."
and
"This is some bullsh*t."
Ever seen a movie that had some great elements to it, but ultimately flopped because the creators got in their own way?
That's roughly the equivalent of a video game that requires you to "press x to not die."*
And be honest, if you could pause your movie, go to a website, and find a code for your dvd player that let you experience the good aspects of the film without wading trough the missteps, wouldn't you do it?
*Resident Evil 4, I'm looking at you.
It's not an adventure game, really, not the way one usually thinks of them. It's more of an adventure game motif that acts as a delivery system for a few (and by few I mean 135) logic puzzles.
And it's great. I love being able to work out the old "get the wolf, sheep, and grain across the river" challenge on a little screen, moving the animals and raft around with my stylus. And I love all the side quests that the game throws in, like the one where you collect parts to build a robot dog (which, along with zombies, melee attacks, and at least one sniper rifle, is on my list of "things that should be included in every game, ever").
So I'd say that I enjoyed the game. Or a least, I enjoyed 134ths of it.
But Puzzle 135 . . .
RRRRR!
I'm not sure if you're familiar with L'ane rouge, but have a look. The name means "red donkey," probably because the first person who played it immediately screamed something about the inventor being a "communist jack*ss."
Does this kind of "sliding block" puzzle actually do anything to test your intelligence? To me it seems like a very good test of how long your brain cam be caught in a dangerous loop of arbitrarity.
Maybe solving it has nothing to do with how smart you are, it's just that you sure feel really smart when, after hours of pushing around little blocks, you finally get that big block out.
I wouldn't know. I cheated.
Now some would say that cheating defeats the purpose of playing a game. After all, you bought the game to be challenged, so by reducing or removing the challenge you've destroyed the game for yourself.
But that's not always true.
There is a difference between:
"This is an engaging challenge that I'm not willing or able to step up to."
and
"This is some bullsh*t."
Ever seen a movie that had some great elements to it, but ultimately flopped because the creators got in their own way?
That's roughly the equivalent of a video game that requires you to "press x to not die."*
And be honest, if you could pause your movie, go to a website, and find a code for your dvd player that let you experience the good aspects of the film without wading trough the missteps, wouldn't you do it?
*Resident Evil 4, I'm looking at you.
Friday, February 22, 2008
They can't all be "The Bone Collector"
This is getting ridiculous.
Why doesn't anyone seem to notice what the man is doing?
It seems so obvious to me, why don't other people pick up on it?
Is everyone so blind?
I'm speaking, of course, about Denzel Washington. In the last 8 years he's acted in 11 movies, and yet has only taken on 2 roles:
1. The good guy, who's actually a bad guy, even though he's really a good guy, if you think about it.
and
2. The inspirational mentor who makes us all want to shape up and go to college.
To be fair, it's probably not all Denzel's fault. His natural presence is simultaneously calm and intense, which (and isn't this a weird dichotomy) makes him ideal for playing both great teachers and great pseudo-villains. It's kinda like how Chris Cooper gets all the "hard-ass" roles, and how the guy who played Carl Winslow on "Family Matters" always gets cast as a cop.*
But I notice the same thing happening with writers, who don't have typecasting as an excuse.
Issac Asimov: The main character is an academic who discovers something that is a threat to all of humanity, only no one believes him. So he studies the problem while being hindered by those who don't want to believe the truth, then solves everything in the last 10 pages.
Neil Gaiman: The main character is a regular Joe who gets pushed around by a woman he idealizes while being handed the short end of the stick in all other aspects of life. But really he has the potential to be amazing, which he comes to realize during his travels in an amazing world that's completely foreign, even though he somehow already has a place in it.
Now try to tell me which book of Asimov or Gaiman's I'm describing.
Do writers realize that they do this, or is it a weird subconscious thing? Are they intentionally executing the same premise over and over again, using it as an easy way to talk about something else? Or are books an author's waking dream, full of little patterns that give insights about his psyche?
Have I written this post before?
*I like to imagine that the cop in "Die Hard," also played by this actor, is actually Carl Winslow. He drags himself into the house after being up all night and shooting someone for the first time in his career. Thirty seconds later Steve Urkel comes flying through the front window and we hear a voice say, "Not today, jack*ss."
Why doesn't anyone seem to notice what the man is doing?
It seems so obvious to me, why don't other people pick up on it?
Is everyone so blind?
I'm speaking, of course, about Denzel Washington. In the last 8 years he's acted in 11 movies, and yet has only taken on 2 roles:
1. The good guy, who's actually a bad guy, even though he's really a good guy, if you think about it.
and
2. The inspirational mentor who makes us all want to shape up and go to college.
To be fair, it's probably not all Denzel's fault. His natural presence is simultaneously calm and intense, which (and isn't this a weird dichotomy) makes him ideal for playing both great teachers and great pseudo-villains. It's kinda like how Chris Cooper gets all the "hard-ass" roles, and how the guy who played Carl Winslow on "Family Matters" always gets cast as a cop.*
But I notice the same thing happening with writers, who don't have typecasting as an excuse.
Issac Asimov: The main character is an academic who discovers something that is a threat to all of humanity, only no one believes him. So he studies the problem while being hindered by those who don't want to believe the truth, then solves everything in the last 10 pages.
Neil Gaiman: The main character is a regular Joe who gets pushed around by a woman he idealizes while being handed the short end of the stick in all other aspects of life. But really he has the potential to be amazing, which he comes to realize during his travels in an amazing world that's completely foreign, even though he somehow already has a place in it.
Now try to tell me which book of Asimov or Gaiman's I'm describing.
Do writers realize that they do this, or is it a weird subconscious thing? Are they intentionally executing the same premise over and over again, using it as an easy way to talk about something else? Or are books an author's waking dream, full of little patterns that give insights about his psyche?
Have I written this post before?
*I like to imagine that the cop in "Die Hard," also played by this actor, is actually Carl Winslow. He drags himself into the house after being up all night and shooting someone for the first time in his career. Thirty seconds later Steve Urkel comes flying through the front window and we hear a voice say, "Not today, jack*ss."
Friday, February 15, 2008
Really more "refresh" than "turn"
There are certain parts of your brain that just never go away.
The English major part of my brain is always writing the world around me into a story.
The techie section is constantly looking for systems, rules, and interactions.
And then there's that special part of my personality that draws on those first two and works out theoretical zombie attacks and the best ways to defend them.
But perhaps my favorite "always on" mental tool is the little one that is dedicated, at all times, to making fun of the song "Turn the Page."
First of all, I've always had a problem with songs about music, books about writers, etc. Maybe that's why I never liked "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." Why would you want to read a book about how some guy grew up to become a writer who spends his time writing books about how he became a writer? Or, to simplify, why are you such a jack***, James Joyce?
Strike two against "Turn the Page," or as I will refer to it from here on out: "Boo Hoo, I'm a Rock Star," is that it's not just self-involved, it's actually whining about being a professional musician.
And yes, I know that not every musician is a star. Plenty of talented people work hard all their lives and never get lucky enough to find success. But still, if you are out "on the road again," then that is the life you have chosen. And you chose it because you had the option to. You're not working fifteen hours a day in some mill or factory at a job that bores the life out of you while wearing out your joints, so you don't get a lot of sympathy. Why don't you write a song about that guy, Mr. "I have long hair and people look at me, waaaa!"?*
But the worse part of "Boo Hoo," the part that really gets me, is this line:
"Yeah, most times you cant hear em talk, other times you can"
Well yeah, those would be the options, wouldn't they? In fact, everything that exists either can or can't be heard. There's not really a third option.
Did you even need to write that line into the song? Isn't it implicit in REALITY?
*There's more money in country music, after all.
The English major part of my brain is always writing the world around me into a story.
The techie section is constantly looking for systems, rules, and interactions.
And then there's that special part of my personality that draws on those first two and works out theoretical zombie attacks and the best ways to defend them.
But perhaps my favorite "always on" mental tool is the little one that is dedicated, at all times, to making fun of the song "Turn the Page."
First of all, I've always had a problem with songs about music, books about writers, etc. Maybe that's why I never liked "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." Why would you want to read a book about how some guy grew up to become a writer who spends his time writing books about how he became a writer? Or, to simplify, why are you such a jack***, James Joyce?
Strike two against "Turn the Page," or as I will refer to it from here on out: "Boo Hoo, I'm a Rock Star," is that it's not just self-involved, it's actually whining about being a professional musician.
And yes, I know that not every musician is a star. Plenty of talented people work hard all their lives and never get lucky enough to find success. But still, if you are out "on the road again," then that is the life you have chosen. And you chose it because you had the option to. You're not working fifteen hours a day in some mill or factory at a job that bores the life out of you while wearing out your joints, so you don't get a lot of sympathy. Why don't you write a song about that guy, Mr. "I have long hair and people look at me, waaaa!"?*
But the worse part of "Boo Hoo," the part that really gets me, is this line:
"Yeah, most times you cant hear em talk, other times you can"
Well yeah, those would be the options, wouldn't they? In fact, everything that exists either can or can't be heard. There's not really a third option.
Did you even need to write that line into the song? Isn't it implicit in REALITY?
*There's more money in country music, after all.
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