The Moratorium

A few things that we need to put an end to in media:*

Things named Pandora - We need to cut this one off right now. It was bad enough when Splinter Cell came up with its ridiculous sequel title, but now it's also in Avatar, in Borderlands, and also an internet music service. It's been done guys, you're not clever by naming something Pandora. Not everything can unleash all the evils of mankind, sorry.

Greek Letters - Hey, you learned something from being in a fraternity! Awesome. Guess what? People have been using those for a really long time. And I mean a really long time. You have been preempted by math. But I'll give you a free pass on "alpha" and "delta," since those can be in reference to a phonetic alphabet. Oh, that reminds me, you've also been preempted by the word "alphabet."

Plots to kill all the world leaders - Why does every supervillian think this will "throw the world into chaos"? Do all the nations of the world have absolutely no contingency plans for the loss of their leaders? I feel pretty confident that most political structures of any complexity aren't relying on a single "keystone" human life.

Plots that will "Unite the World" - It's great that you want to make your villain sympathetic, but can't you do better than "I only did it to unite Earth"? I've got news for you, bad crap happens all the time, and the world doesn't unite. There's no uniting at all. We just keep on fighting.

*Also, blog posts that are just lists of thing. That has to stop.

Progression

When Hulu announced their Plus plan, I heard the same conversation at least 3 times.

"Hulu Plus still has ads? I'm not paying to watch ads!"

"Well you've paid for cable right? And that has ads."

"Oh yeah . . . "

I think we'd have to score that exchange:

Haters: 1

Keepin' it Real: 0

But it is weird, when you think about it, paying someone to show you ads. So why do we accept it so willingly with cable TV?

The fact is, for a long time most media was one-way communication. There was no way for viewers to give feedback, to stop one show and go to another. Ads could be a part of the experience because the users had no other choice.

But the internet is all about choice, it's entirely driven by the choices of the viewer. So once something is online, we have different expectations about how it's presented.

How interesting then, that Hulu (which is owned by TV Networks) contains traditional ads, while other services like Netflix Instant (which is in the DVD business, where users have more control of the content) do not. 

I think this is called a paradigm shift.

I might have made most of these up

You may know that a 50th anniversary traditionally means a gift of gold, while the 25th is silver. And you may even know that paper is for a one-year anniversary. But did you know that there are even sub-year gift designations?

1 year-paper anniversary
9 months-ice cream
6 months-fish
3 months-coffee mug
1 month-silly dance
3 weeks-bread
2 weeks-action figure
1 week-compliment
1 day-funny joke
12 hours-compliment
1 hour-wave
30 minutes-fist pound
1 minute - high five*

*Usually while walking out of the church, that's why you never see it. But watch the time closely during the reception, you'll see the bride and groom discretely fist pound.

Buggin' OUT!

I don't think I need to justify my position if I say that "kittens are adorable." Most of the internet that you're using to read these words is supported by a solid tier of cute feline content, and most modern routers are built with a protocol that prioritizes kitty media and pushes it out on its own frequency.

Ok, that last bit I probably made up.

But I've realized something from watching these two grow up:

One of the reasons that kittens are so cute is that they're basically little superheroes. Like Peter Parker waking up the morning after the spider bite, kittens come into this world with incredible powers that they have absolutely no idea how to use.* In a few months, a kitten will become the dominant predator of its environment—fast, agile, stealthy, adaptable—the complete package. As a species, it's clear that house cats have done a bit of min-maxing, sacrificing intelligence and size for a comprehensive suite of movement abilities. Then there's the heightened hearing, night vision, retractable climbing claws—superheroes wish they had that kind of tech. The only reason cats can't shoot webs is that they used up their last ability slot with that thing where they flip over in mid-air.

But until a kitten gains control over their powers, they're basically just little hilarity factories.
Jumping up onto the pass-through window for the first time? Not quite buddy!
Taking a hair-pin turn around a door frame? Bonk! Mew!
What just went "splash"? Oh, right, left the toilet open.

Lesson learned kitten.

*With great power comes great responsibility. And here, that responsibility is defined as "end the lives of as many bugs as possible."

Na-na-naaa, Na-na-naaa, Na-na-naaaaaaa

If you were born after 1987, you likely never saw a movie called "The Never Ending Story."

If you were born between 1975 and 1987, you likely gasped when you read the sentence above.

If you were born before 1975, you likely just wondered why anyone would gasp over that weird, awful children's movie.

Stories that involve escapism tend to wield a powerful hold (with big, strong hands I guess), and this is an escapist story about the escapism of stories, so if you saw the movie when you were the right age to identify with Bastian then I guess you're bound to love it.

Now as it happens, we live in the future, so if you'd like to experience a cultural fixture of the "NES Generation" (and here I'm using that to stand for both "Never Ending Story" and "Nintendo Entertainment System") you may do so right now on YouTube. Go on. It's ok. I'll just be here, deconstructing my childhood beat-for-beat.



Some thoughts on watching the film now, all these years later.

I know I said it was "awful," and it kinda is, but to be fair there's some good stuff here. First of all, when Bastian says "I had another dream Dad, about Mom," there's a pretty incredible emotional beat. We don't need any more explanation. One line into the movie and we instantly know who this kid is, what he's dealing with, and how strained his relationship with his father is. That's eloquence itself. And you know what really brings it home? Gerald McRaney, there in the background, stopping right before cracking that egg. That pause sells the whole moment.

That being said . . . does Bastian's dad really crack an egg into a blender full of orange juice, then drink it? Ugh. So gross. And while we're on the subject, doesn't it seem like a lot of 80's movies had scenes with a character drinking raw eggs? I know Rocky did, and I'm thinking maybe the older brother in Goonies as well. Was that how you showed that a character was a big strong guy back then?

Another aspect of NES that really stands up is the large scale puppetry. Before I revisited the movie I doubted whether Morla, Rock Biter, and Gmork were going to look as good as I remembered, but they're all stunning even today.

Generally I'm not in the "it was better the way they used to do it," "old man shaking his fist" camp, but I have to admit that CG versions of those characters wouldn't be as good as these. The designer's craftsmanship was simply too fine, their work too polished by the challenges of physical materials.

But um . . . Falcor I do have to take up with them. He um . . . He looks kind of phallic okay I said it now let's move on.

Of course I couldn't mention those enormous characters without giving a nod to the excellent actors that gave them voices. Or rather, actor. Yeah, they were all done by the same guy, Alan Oppenheimer, and if the NES Genners will take a moment to review the man's resume, I think they'll find that they love him dearly.*

One final tidbit about the film, it left an interesting linguistic mark on the NES generation. I have always thought of an "oracle" as a statue. The whole time I was reading about the "Oracle at Delphi" in Greek mythology, I imagined it as a big stone carving. But it wasn't, the Oracle at Delphi was a person as oracles usually are. So why do the NES Genners get it wrong? Because they were introduced to the word by The Never Ending Story, which includes a "Southern Oracle" that's represented by a pair of huge statues.

*Because he was also Skeletor!

Random Play All (over again)

-There are certain word combinations that are very difficult to say, and make you sound as though your tongue has gone numb. I call these "Numb Tongue Terms."

One example of a "Numb Tongue Term" is the phrase "Numb Tongue Term."

-Take NyQuil if you want to sleep. Take DayQuil if you want to stay awake. Take both if you want to see some crazy ****!

-Why does Jack Johnson come up on my Pandora station no matter what I start it with? Does Jack Johnson own Pandora? Or are his songs some kind of musical nexus, the perfect average of all sound?

-If you search Google for "jkekuii8377  -0-0=====cklsjk n\\\]" it should come up with
Did you mean: how do I keep my cat off of my keyboard?


-Dog fighting is a hideous, barbaric practice. Puppy fighting, on the other hand, is hilarious and the puppies don't even get hurt-in fact they have a really good time. So we just need a way to score puppy fighting so that idiots can gamble on it.

-The Mac versus PC debate, Playstation/Xbox/Wii debate, and all other format debates have ended. The winner in each was "Shut Up."

-Know why everyone talks about iPhones and Android Phones, but no one seems to talk about Palm Pilots anymore? Cause somethings just go out of stylus.*

*I'm sorry

I need some answers.

To walk through a toy store now, you'd think that Lego is nothing but a branding template.

Those little bricks can be formed into anything, but apparently the most profitable thing to make with them is Star Wars ships and Harry Potter sets.

And I guess I can't really talk, having recently added a Lego Star Destroyer to my Amazon wish list. I get why people would enjoy combining their favorite franchise with toy bricks, and I get that they've got a business to run.

But for me, and for many people of my generation. Lego meant something else.

Lego meant Futuron.

Lego meant the monorail.



This set represented one of the best Christmas presents of my young life. I can't tell you how many times since I've heard someone say "You had the monorail? I always wanted the monorail."*

Yet when I watch that video, I don't feel nostalgic. I don't think about my own set, buried somewhere in a trunk in my parent's basement.

I think something else entirely.

"Wow, that base makes no sense."

Why, exactly, would those two little outposts need a monorail? First of all, there's only two of them. If you only need to connect two places, you don't make a loop. You make a line. Because that's what makes sense.

Second, why does the loop go so far out on either side? I'm fairly sure that any one of those little yellow dudes could just walk over to the other base faster than they could ride the train.

It's like if we were designing a transport system between New York City and Atlanta, and we decided that the most efficient method would be a big circle of freeway that went through Missouri on one side, and out into the Atlantic ocean on the other.

And another thing, why is that one base so tall? There's barely any room to stand up there, let alone unload crap from a train car. I've seen painters scaffoldings that were positively roomy by comparison.

Look Lego, these are pressing questions. Put down the tiny plastic wands you're designing, set aside the video games, and make me a new monorail that's some kind of reasonable.

. . . also more Blacktron and Space Police. Thanks.

*If it makes anyone feel any better, that set was a double edged sword. It was easily the most fragile and difficult to fix set I ever played with.

Sam OS

:listen.exe "Want to have lunch today?" -gary

Loading context file "gary" from memory . . . . . . . done

Beginning scan . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Grammatical structure: acceptable

Sarcasm: clear

Emotional content: neutral

Video game references: none

Alterations to normal speech pattern that could indicate an early zombie virus infection: clean

Beginning response calculation . . . .

Checking original statement for . . .

"That's what she said" jokes: no valid interpretation

"Your mom" jokes: 1 candidate "Your mom wants to have lunch today."

Accessing candidate . . . . 2% humor

Recommended action: abandon

Checks complete.

Weighing decision: approved

Suggested response: "Okay"

Checking response candidate for joke counter-statements . . . approved:statement is white-listed

speak.exe "Okay"

end*

--------------------------------

Sam: Okay

Gary: Why does it always take you so long to answer?*

Sam: . . . . . Why does it always take your mom so long to answer?

*Ever see a crazy person muttering to himself? That's what happens when you don't terminate your code.

*ring* (again)

*ring*

-Hello?

-Hello sir, I'm calling from Charter Communications. Did you know that we now offer phone service in addition to cable?

-Really? That's interesting. Did you know that cell phones were invented a long time ago?

-I, uh, excuse me?

-Cell phones. They're like hard line phones, except they're not completely obsolete. All the land line benefits, none of the drawbacks. You can put one in your pocket and carry it anywhere, it's great!

-Well, sir, a cell phone may be "great" for when you're on-the-go, but we can offer you a line directly to your home . . .

-Yeah, see, when I'm at home I still use my cell. It doesn't stop working when I walk through the door. That's a factor your company probably should've thought about before expanding their operation into this gasping, outdated technology.

-But, wouldn't you like to have a hard line as a backup? What if your cell phone isn't working?

-Hmmm, interesting thought. Maybe I should get a "backup" phone line. And while you're at it, can you get me an abacus just in case my calculator stops working? Oh wait, my calculator, much like my cell, pretty much always works.

-But what if your cell phone battery goes dead?

-Well . . . yeah, I guess then I could use a hard line phone.

-Exactly.

-Course I'd have to be at home to do that, and if I'm at home I could always, you know, PLUG MY CELLPHONE IN.

-But what if there's some kind of natural disaster, and the cell towers are down? What are you going to do then?

-Ok, let me see if I understand your hypothetical situation here. There's been a natural disaster of some magnitude, and despite being violent enough to bring down all the cell towers near my home, it hasn't affected the hard lines at all. And these are the same hard lines that go out whenever there's so much as a bad thunderstorm. Is that what you're proposing?

-Well, . . . it may sound unlikely, but it could happen. You never know.

-Of course it could. But I'm still not sure I want to pay a few hundred dollars a year as insurance against whatever alien signal-jamming orb that'd be required for that incredibly specific, unlikely scenario.

-Oh but it's not so expensive, I can get you a phone line very cheaply by bundling it with your cable tv service.

-I don't have TV service.*

-You don't? Did you know that Charter offers more high-resomolution HD channels . . .

-Really? That's interesting, did you know that Netflix and Hulu exist?

-*click*

*So I pay a monthly fee for the service, and nearly one-third of it is ads. And I can only see the shows at certain times, unless I want to set something up to capture them. And even then I can only watch them at home.

It only made sense when there was no alternative.

A Thoughtful Review of Some Atari 2600 Game Art

Artists for Atari 2600 game boxes were basically professional liars.

I mean I don't fault them for it, certainly pasting the box with a picture of the actual graphics wouldn't have done much to move those cartridges. I understand they had to spice it up a little, sell the sizzle to sell the sausage.*

But that being said, they took this:

And resolved it to this:

That . . . that is something of a jump, sir. I believe you may have misled a few purchasers of your product with that on the cover.

Combat, one of my first favorite games, committed similar sins with its rather artistic interpretation:

I can assure you, from first hand experience, that the actual game did not quite capture the excitement implied above. And by "not quite," I mean this:

Some games tried to be honest, though, and included at least a bit of the actual game on the box. The most notable example is Pac-Man:

But that juxtaposition of art and game just shows how really, truly bizarre the "narrative" is here. Seriously, what kind of drug-induced stupor led to this generational icon? A yellow thing that tries to eat a bunch of pellets, all the while being chased by ghosts, except sometimes he gets the right kind of pellet and can eat the ghosts so they turn into floating eyeballs.

And sometimes there's fruit.

Pac-Man is a lot like the original "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory." Only when you go back to it after years of fond memories do you realize that it was all just someone's acid trip.

Of course, no conversation of 2600 games would be complete without the most notorious (-ly bad) of them all, "E.T.". Strangely, I find this to be the most genuine box art of the era:

Just look at their faces. Those blank, droopy eyes. The hopeful, yet confused gaze. That's truth in advertising, itself

Because that's exactly what you look like while playing that game.

*

"Buzz Aldrin has lost his sandwich, prepare to . . . fire a circle at some blocks."