Binge Thinkers Anonymous

In Which a Creation Is Birthed & Moves Are Discussed

2011-10-29T05:37:00.001-07:00

So, you guys know those Cover Versions cooking things I've done lately? Well, I've made a decision about them. Friday, I purchased a domain (three of them, actually), and registered with Squarespace to create a site. My site. And to prove to myself that I'm committed, I'm moving this blog there. Happily, there's an importer tool that lets me keep all my old posts and comments and such, so it's a simple matter. It's pretty bare-bones now, but I intend to add to it.

So yeah. Big things. The first three episodes (two of which has already seen the light here, but are now tuned up and HD and have new posts) are live right now as I type.

So what now? Well, now, if you want to read my blog, you can go to http://www.lokified.com or www.coverversions.tv.

And that's that.

See you in the kitchen.

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

In which Sunrise infuriates me.

2011-10-25T15:17:00.001-07:00

I'm in the break room making a coffee. The tv is playing Sunrise. I overhear the headline: "New guidelines to put in place to force call centre operators to have a specific accent level to be allowed to call Australian."

"Okay," I thought, "this can't be as stupid & discriminatory as what I think it is. At least they won't be stupid enough to put an insulting sub-heading on it."

Really? Alright then.

But surely once the guy throws it to panel discussion, we'll see the pros and cons of the issue, right? Wait, the panel are all women. He just called them his "Angels". Uh oh.

Ms. Armitage viewpoint is "it's not politically correct to say, but it's maddening!" Okay. Care to follow that statement up? No? Nothing on the fact that you're talking about restricting job applicants using something that is not their fault?

Well, I'm sure the next panelist has a background more suited to discussing the ramifications on the telco industry, so we can OH FOR FUCKS SAKE:

Sex and relationships expert?! What?! Why?! What?! (three excellent questions)

She discusses that anyone who calls you is trying to swindle you and having an accent makes that easier. Bravo, lady. You've just linked "having an accent" to "dishonest business practices". Plus, you're American, which means that to Australians, you have an accent. oh bravo. I'd sarcastic slow-clap, but I'm typing.

Look. I've worked in call centers for 7 years. I understand the seemingly inbuilt distrust many Australians have for anyone without an Australian accent (especially if that accent is Indian or Asian). Strangely though, no one seem to have a problem with MY accent. So is it an accent problem, or straight out prejudice? I say this: you get good agents and bad agents across all nationalities and accents. Stopping someone from holding a position because of the way they speak is discrimination, and worse, it's enabling the bad behaviors of the jerks who escalate to a supervisor because they don't want to speak to an Indian.

Well, I'm sure this hard-hitting journalistic juggernaut has another serious subject to discuss:

Yep. Fit over 40 like Brad & Angelina, Lindsay Lohan's Playboy shoot, and her dad getting arrested.

Yeah.

Live-tweetin' the dentist (after the fact)

2011-10-23T17:22:00.001-07:00

It's kind of strange that my brain has learned to compartmentalise my thoughts into 140-character tweets. But then, if i post them here, i can expound a little. Also, you guys totally want to hear about this. Right? Be that as it may, here are the bullet points from my visit:

(warning, profanity & allcaps)

-I arrive for my 8:45 appointment at 8:40. The dentist arrive sat 8:47. I don't get in until 8:57.

-Dentist arguing with the receptionist about the modem and the network going down and the receptionist wanting to turn it off and on again, and the dentist wanting to call Optus.

-As soon as I sit down in the chair: "Sorry, mate, just having some trouble with the network." me: "Have you tried turning it off and on again?" #bam

-They make you wear Bret-The-Hitman-Hart-style glasses when you're in the chair? You know why? So he doesn't have to look you in the eyes as he TORTURES YOU.

-I'm not sure what worse: having four needles stuck just under your nose, or being a captive audience as your dentist bitches about how the Ferrari online store doesn't offer free shipping on a kid's tricycle with the Ferrari logo.

-OH: "Ferrari sells a pushbike, you know. Only 16 grand, but it's made of carbon fibre, you can pick it up with 1 finger, and I mean you could pick up one or two kilos with one finger, and it's got disc brakes that like, are really good brakes."

-OH: "The shop sells T-shirts too, with the Ferrari logo, but they're just regular T-shirts." Really? They're not made out of carbon fibre? What kind of brakes do they have?

-Things I learned: if you gag when a dentist shoves a piece of metal & rubber down your throat, you're treated like a fractious fucking horse: "Easy, mate, easy, it's okay."

-"Breathe through your nose, okay? I know you can't feel your nose but it's there and you can breath through it." For this he went to UNIVERSITY.

-It's said you can tell a lot about a man by how he treats those weaker than him. You can tell a lot about a dentist by the way he treats his hygienist. If he's snatching things out of her hand, berating her, and making these little *tsk* noises of disapproval, then, yeah.

-YOU ARE POINTING A LASER INTO MY FACE. THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH THE RECEPTIONIST ABOUT HOW YOU DON'T USE THE ADAPTER THAT CAME WITH YOUR MOBILE PHONE TO CHARGE IT MOTHERFUCKER.

-And look! I now have a new ulcer because of how hard you grabbed my lower jaw when you were putting the filling in! It's like a toy surprise!

-"Arghle!" "Oh, does that hurt? *poke*" "Arghle!" "Well, it shouldn't hurt. *pokepoke*" "ARGHLEARGLE." "*poke* Ok, maybe I'll go easier."

-Eyes on what you're doing! WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING! Don't gesture with a drill to indicate to someone that you want a coffee when the drill is in my mouth!

-He's singing now. He's singing "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You". I BEG TO DIFFER.

-Mythbusters spoke the truth. You can ignore pain better if in your head you're screaming "ILLKILLYOUILLKILLYOUILLKILLYOUYOUFUCKERILLKILLYOU" over and over. It's kind of soothing.

-Now he's telling a story of The Girl and The Two Pebbles. Only he keeps repeating parts, and stopping to explain this and losing his place, it's like watching Jeff Goldblum, only you can't move.

-Yes, I gagged the last time you hooked that suction thing onto my cheek. I gagged again this time. This should not surprise you. Furthermore, you think that'd be a reason not to DO IT AGAIN.

-Remember when I told you I had problems flossing and you basically told me that was bullshit and that I should do it anyhow? MY TEETH JUST BROKE YOUR SPECIALLY REINFORCED PERFORATED STRIP WHAT'S UP NOW

-He's still talking about the stupid girl and the stupid pebbles! Now he's explaining how the ending is clever, and how it teaches you a lesson and how the road is a metaphor for life and DID I JUST HEAR YOU SAY YOU GOT THIS OFF A FUCKING CHAIN EMAIL?!?!

-"Nearly done, you've been fantastic, mate." "Really? You've been a circle of hell and I've composed a really snarky blog post about you. Also, I require a change of clothes because I've sweated through these."

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

OH NO I'M INITIALLY FRUSTRATED BY ARKHAM CITY

2011-10-20T01:11:00.001-07:00

Batman still takes up too much of the screen!
I still suck at stealth!
Cat woman is nothing but cat-based puns and overwrought sexual innuendo!
10 minutes in and again I'm wandering around a room without enemies looking for a damn bullet hole in Detective Mode!

I will push on, but... What if I don't like this game?

So that happened.

2011-10-19T14:24:00.001-07:00

So since everyone totally cared and gave me video game advice, I was able to make an informed decision about what I bought yesterday. Actually, no, wait, that's a lie, nobody commented so I just got Batman: Arkham City. And Deus Ex. And Infamous 2*. (though props to Tommy, who said he would lend me Resistance 3 so I didn't have to buy it)

Since I was on a late shift last night, I only got to play Infamous 2 for about 20 minutes when I got home. Cole's voice actor is different, you can run faster, but that makes your jumps and traversal feel more floaty, and they've remodeled everyone. So that's a thing. Also, the game notices how you finished the first game and gives your stats a bump in the same direction (as I played a namby-pamby goodie-goodie, I got a bump to my good stats and my electrical powers).

I hope I like Arkham City. Arkham Asylum was a game I sat down and played twice, then put on a shelf and never got the urge to play again. Maybe it was the slow pace in the early going, but it just didn't grab me. Also, I had that thing where I ended up stuck in an empty room endlessly scanning the walls with Detective Vision looking for the one place I could hit with a batarang so I could, you know, play the rest of the level (I know that was like 5 minutes in, but shut up, it was frustrating).

It also cracks me up that Australia had the game on shelves two days early (because Australia, like Honey Badger, just don't give a fuck), and the guy in the Game store said that they had dozens of people call up and complain that their DLC wasn't working. IT WAS RELEASED EARLY GUYS. Of course you can't activate the DLC yet!

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

* Though thanks to the magic of the JB Hifi Trade-3-Get-It-Free, I only paid actual monies for Infamous 2. I traded Guitar Hero 5 (which I traded after I realized that sitting in dust for months was no good for a plastic guitar & it didn't work anymore), God of War III (because of that damned mini game) & Dead Space 2 (because things kept eating me) for Arkham City and Infamous (because I already beat it a lot), Transformers: War For Cybertron (because I beat it a lot twice & the multiplayer is shallow), and a-quickly-purchased-for-$20-copy-of Star Wars: The Force Unleashed for Deus Ex.

A video game plea to the Internet.

2011-10-17T02:10:00.001-07:00

Cover Versions: Jerkass Chicken

2011-10-08T05:04:00.000-07:00

Hey, you know that video I did before that I got such lovely feedback from @tifalna & @hulahoney about?

Well I did another one. In fact, I'm thinking of making a series. So behold! I present Cover Versions. My take on established recipes in my own way.

(now updated with full 1080p HD. Stupid Youtube)So here's my question. If I want to do this on a regular basis, how should I proceed? Should I get my own site just for Cover Versions? A domain? A Squarespace?A Youtube Channel? Please leave a comment if you have ideas. Or if you like things.

Digital Comics, Ultimate Spider-Man & Just Noticable Difference

2011-10-04T13:46:00.001-07:00

Wow. So nobody likes Canberra, huh?According to Blogger, no one has even viewed that post. Okay. Point taken. Let's talk about digital comics.

I mentioned in my iPad post that I've got several comics apps installed (Marvel, Image, Comixology, ComicsZeal). And I like them. I've grabbed all the free content I can. Digital comics is one field where I can call myself an early adopter, because in late 2000, as a starving (but still somehow slightly fat) general arts student living in the dorms at the University of Ottawa, I did what many university students tend to do with their sudden free evenings and cost-included 256k broadband connection: I used the Internet to connect with the topics of my childhood. I researched old TV shows, I downloaded songs, I researched episode guides (this was pre-Wikipedia, so a lot of trawling was required), and absorbed as much knowledge as I could. One of these areas was comics, specifically X-Men comics. My relationships with comics at that point had been sporadic at best. It's a whole 'nother post about how I could never afford comics, so the few issues I had were gems to be read and reread compulsively, and at one point I would hang around a comic store reading stuff off the shelf (i read the entire Clone Saga that way) and buying old Handbooks to the Marvel Universe (making a binder with all the information). So anyway, Internet. I read what equated to the whole marvel encyclopedia, and met people who could discuss it with me. And as often happens with me, I retains just about everything I read. My Spanish is only barely passable despite multiple years of learning, but I can tell you the names of the Morlocks killed in the Massacre, and how the editor didn't like X-Man and made him a freaky shaman. Then killed him. But I was talking about digital comics.

Marvel at the time tried something groundbreaking. They set up a digital comics reader on their website. It was a launched app that allowed you to download titles as they were released. For free. It was their DotComics launch, and the launch titles were Ultimate Spider-Man, The Ultimates, Ultimate X-Men, and a few random Spider-Man & X-Men issues (the death of Colossus, which made me cry, and the Spider-Man 9/11 issue, which flattened me, and the Spider-totem arc, which I liked). But really it was the Ultimate titles I devoured whole. It was the first 6 or 7 trades of USM and UXM, and the first volume of Ultimates. I loved them, despite not knowing who Brian Michael Bendis or Mark Millard were, and years later, when I had some money in Australia, they were the first comic books I began collecting in trade format. Like the modern apps, DotComics was a directed experience, with panels expanding and moving to tell the story.

Imagine my joy that now, after my full metamorphosis into a comic nut, I can get that same experience on a portable platform.

Now here's the rub.

Recently, I've gone off Ultimate Comics in general. The Ultimatum event exhausted me with casual killing off of half the cast, Ultimates 3 was terrible, the first 4-5 Ultimate Fantastic 4 trades were great, but art issues and some of the sillier villains put me off (Diablo, anyone?), and though Robert Kirkman is an amazing writer, Ultimate X-Men started simply rehashing stories from the 90s mainstream books.

So when I heard that Bendis is restarting Ultimate Comics: Spider-Man at #1 with a new Spider-Man, no Peter Parker, and that Ultimate Comics: X-men was also starting over with some of the supporting characters from the Ultimate Universe, I was excited. Totally Rad Show gave both issues great reviews, and I was more excited for these two single issues than any for a while. Knowing it'll be months before a trade comes out, I think, for the first time in a while, that I should go buy the issues. Two things stopped me. One, Australian comics retailers sell comics issues for anywhere from $7.50-9.00, which has always stopped me, as I can read an issue in about 8 minutes (a talent I honed reading comics before getting kicked out of the shop), so that's a bunch of money for something quick (insert innuendo here. Heh. Insert). Two, since these number ones are Kind Of A Big Deal, they may not even HAVE any LEFT for me to blow 9 bucks on.

Wait a moment! My computing device! Surely I can purchase these gems for that! And it's true. I can.

For $5.50 an issue.

Now, I could just be spoiled by the iTunes App store pricing model (where your average transaction is $0.99-2.99), or the fact that issues of older comics are $1.99-2.99, but for me, $5.50 an issue hits that button where I think it's too much. Call it Just Noticable Difference or Lowest Noticable Difference or whatever buyer behaviour term you want, it's high enough to make me consider it more than a passive "yeah, I'll just buy that" purchase. Now I know why they've done it: they don't want to undercut in-comic-store sales.

But it still sucks. I might wait for the trade, or see when it drops in price.

Because I'm cheap.

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

Impressions of Canberra.

2011-09-30T23:45:00.001-07:00

This is my first visit to Canberra, breathtaking and scenic capitol of Australia.

Visually, it's slightly crap. Let us not mince words. All the buildings appear to be chipped out of bricks leftover from elementary schools built in the 1970s. This is not helped by the grey skies, intermittent showers and blowing winds that accompanied us from NSW. Also, with the exception of a few cinderblock towers, nothing is over two stories tall. This manages to make everything seem smaller than it is.

True to my usual habits while on vacation, I purchased things that I theoretically could have got in Sydney: a New Pornographers CD, a couple of comics (Transmetropolitan & the first volume of Strangers In Paradise), books (including a book on Douglas Adams' roommate & a huge book of Watchmen portraits) and a nifty wireless Bluetooth keyboard that I am typing this entry on. I also nearly bought an HDMI out for my iPad, but Tanja correctly posited that I would have no use for such an item once this weekend was finished. Stupid logic. You foil me again.

The thing I've noticed about Canberra, though, are threefold. Attend:

Uno: All of the quality eateries look like rubbish, but make great food. It's like they are doing their best to look like a neighborhood takeaway or back alley milk bar but are turning out posh restaurant quality edibles. Examples: Madame Woo. This is what it looks like:

(images courtesy of Google)
But the food was amazing. Behold a bare imitation, grabbed from one of the brochures in our room:

Yeah. That but better. And the more I look around, the more terrible signs I see (using Papyrus font, terrible colours, handmade logos), I wonder which of those are secrets and which are honestly crap. This can be a downside, of course. On the way into Canberra, I looked up craft breweries and found two, the excellent Wig & Pen, downtown, and Zierholz, in Fishwyck. The Wig & Pen was inviting, inside and out and we've been there twice. Zierholz is out on an industrial park area and we had to drive past it twice to find it. It has a smash repairs on one side and a sex shop on the other. The whole front of the building is glass, with white walls & floors. I couldn't convince Tanja (or myself) to get out of the car. That's the problem with having a great book in a crappy cover.

Zwei: After having studies the walking abilities of people in Sydney (crowd in, bumping shoulders, high stress) and Melbourne (high speed avoidance, smooth sailing, the walking equivalent of Formula 1 racing), I can say that Canberrans have a problem with rearward personal space. Stop at the curb to cross the street? Don't put your elbows back. The pedestrian behind you has decided to stand so close to you that he can hear what you're thinking. And can comment. It's off putting.

Trois: It is very much a weekday city. You'll see people about all hours on weekdays, but the weekends, it's a ghost town. Absolute opposite of Sydney.

So yeah. First impressions. We still have tomorrow, where I intend to see Questacon (http://www.questacon.edu.au/#canberra), damnit.

Location:The Diplomat Hotel

Things I corrected people on today

2011-09-25T22:52:00.000-07:00

I don't know if this makes me a grammar nazi or simply a vocabulary fascist, but I feel the need to point this out:

1. Prodded (prod'ded, def: to poke someone, to apply pressure) should be pronounced "pr-aw-did". Not "pr-oh-did".

2. The expression is "null and void", not "nil and void".

3. While a group may be both self-sufficient & efficient, they are not "self-efficient."

This has been a public service announcement.

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

PS: While this is not an error, it is inherently funny to hear that the company has "a special bucket for dead people."

Anatomy of an argument

2011-09-24T17:04:00.001-07:00

*Note: paraphrased for brevity*

*Scene: at the butcher shop*
L: (thought: I'm making a recipe, but i'm way insecure, so I'll ask T's opinion on how much of these small meat pieces I should get! She's way better at things!) Hey T! Should I get 5 or 6 of those? *points generally at small meat pieces*
T: (I don't know what recipe you're making, so I have no frame of reference to how many meat pieces you need. Also, it looks like you're pointing at these enormous unwieldy rib rack meat pieces.) 5 or 6? Maybe just 1.
L (Wow! Good thing I asked T! Turns out I would have bought the wrong type of meat entirely!) *buys 1 large unwieldy piece of meat*
*later*
L: Oh crap, the recipe describes a method of cooking that is difficult with a large unwieldy piece of meat! Woe is me!
T: I'll assist, but with this type of large unwieldy piece of meat it'll take an hour to cook & we'll have to alternate between stove & oven!
L: *takes assistance, but when meat is cooking:* You know, I wanted to buy small meat pieces. It's what the recipe said.
T: What? Y U No tell me that, bro?
L: I did! I pointed vaguely at the small pieces! That should be enough for man, god or beast! Let my vague indications never be questioned!
Both: This is your fault ZOMG.

Aaaaand, scene.

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

First World Problems

2011-09-21T15:04:00.001-07:00

...yeah.

Bioshock Memories

2011-09-17T20:22:00.001-07:00

A trip to the Powerhouse Museum's Love Lace exhibit brought back memories of Bioshock, specifically the music:

Kinda creepy.

My Gaming List of Shame

2011-09-13T02:20:00.001-07:00

A page from my clockwork notebook (and it shits me that I can't directly import):

A one page rant (comic).

2011-09-07T17:51:00.001-07:00

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

Cooking Sunday: Sticky Chicken Tortillas (text version)

2011-09-02T20:17:00.001-07:00

Now with 100% more recipe!

· Put a pan on medium heat with a little oil in it.
· Preheat oven to lowest setting.
· Rather rudely cut each chicken breast into 4 strips lengthwise.
· Season both sides liberally with salt and pepper.
· Zest the hell out of your lemon.
· Deposit thy lemon zest into a mixing bowl.
· Bifurcate the lemon.
· Squeeze the lemon juice into the bowl. No seeds, you savages.
· Add approx. Twice as much olive oil as there is lemon juice.
· 4 tablespoons of yoghurt into the bowl and stir.
· Once the pan is hot, abandon the chicken to its hellish fate.
· Brutally snap the leaves from your defenceless lettuce.
· Baptise the lettuce under the holiest of taps, cleansing it of sin (and dirt).
· Using a salad spinner, whirl the lettuce about in a whimsical manner, drying it to some extent.
· Hold the lettuce leave still as you finely slice them. Ignore their pleas for mercy.
· Consign the chopped lettuce to the same fate as the lemon zest.
· Wash, trim and skin the carrots*.
· Once the little bastards are skinned and subdued, peel them into ribbons for their insolence.
· Put those ribbons into the bowl and stir.
· Grab a handful of alfalfa sprouts, hold them over the bowl, and take your scissors to them for being untidy.
· Oh right, the chicken. Yeah, turn that.
· Stir the mixture again.
· Time for thyme. Yes, I went there. 2 sprigs.
· Get out your fennel seeds and tortillas.
· Craft an aluminium foil coffin for your tortillas and put them into the oven.
· Poke vaguely at the chicken. Make sure it’s still dead.
· Strip the leaves from the thyme and discard the stem.
· Get two plates ready.
· Poke the chicken some more.
· Taste the mixture, make sure it’s ok. Stir.
· Fling the fennel seeds into the pan where they belong, and their thyme leaf buddies too.
· Shake the pan like a TV Chef to coat the chicken.
· Drizzle the honey onto the hot chicken. Feel a bit naughty as you do. TV-Chef-Pan-Shake again.
· When the chicken is coated in honey like some sort of harlot, turn the heat off.
· Stir the mix again. Free your tortillas from their mighty coffin and place one on each plate.
· Apply 1 tablespoon of tactical hummous and 1 tablespoon of also-tactical harissa/Sambal manis.
· Add ¼ of your lettuce-carrot-yoghurt-Franken-mixture. Top with primary and secondary chicken bits.
· Wrap up, seize, and consume!

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

Cooking Sunday: Sticky Chicken Tortillas

2011-09-02T02:27:00.000-07:00

Look, ma! I made a video!

I might edit and post the actual recipe later.

Edit: it's later.

Reality Vs Fantasy

2011-08-29T05:22:00.001-07:00

Reality: I try out my FlipCam on my new Gorilla-pod-style tripod.

And my brain (by way of my iPad) went in the following direction:

Yeah. So Fantasy has blasted Reality with it's Obliterator Ray.

Fantasy: 1. Reality: 0.

No matter how many times you sling a cat against a wall, it never stuns them.

2011-08-25T16:01:00.001-07:00

MyPad

2011-08-22T17:38:00.001-07:00

Soooooo, I got an iPad 2*. And it's awesome. Some thoughts:

+The touchpad is far easier to type on than I expected, so much so that I'm debating getting the Bluetooth keyboard I had planned on. However, I am quite glad I splurged the $5 on the ThinkGeek iPhone stylus last year, as the iPad screen is a magnet for fingerprints. You don't notice when using, but the minute you turn it off, it looks a mess. I've ordered a screen protector but it has not arrived yet. I could have bought one for 17.95 when I bought the iPad, but why, when I can go to eBay and get three for the price of a pack of gum?

+Screen is preeeeetty. It's not quite as sharp as the iPhone 4's retina screen, but 720p movies look awesome. And the video taken/video out is 1080p, which is nice. The screen size is it's downfall with some of the apps, though. Before I got an iPad, I grumbled looking at the prices of iPad apps being $3-$12 as opposed to $0.99-$4.99. "Why not just get the smaller cheaper apps and use the 2x button to blow them up?" Well, I'll tell you why, past Lucas: it looks awful. I actually tested it on an app-by-app basis, and most of the apps got deleted (especially my photo manipulation apps. I only kept e universal ones like FilterStorm and Halftone). Basically the only little apps I kept were the GeoDefense series, Facebook, Instagram, and trip view for the trains.

+Speaking of the apps, there are some that I could not have expected I would love, Flipboard being chief among them. Clipboard amalgamated your Instagram, twitter and Facebook feeds into magazine-style pages, opening links and pictures, while showing individual tweets like vox pops (which, in a sense, they are). It remains the best way to view Instagram on the iPad. As the aforementioned cost-change, I** basically allocated myself $50 as app-upgrade money. I bought the full-sized Plants vs Zombies, Tilt To Live, GarageBand, iMovie, BlogPress (which I should have sprung for way earlier, even on the iPhone, because it's exactly the mobile blogging experience I wanted), Fruit Ninja, and a few new games like World of Goo and bit.trip Blitz. I also used some skullduggery to get the US Netflix app, which allows me instant streaming on Wifi (I'm not dumb enough to do it on 3G). Lots of great looking apps like Infinity Blade, eBay, X-Men Arcade, and Kindle are universal/have free iPad versions, so no drama there. Kindle, by the by, finally completes the cloud experience I want: I'm reading Snow Crash at home. I read a bit of it on my iPad on the way to work. Then while doing 45 minutes of laminating at work, I read 20 pages on my iPhone. I get home that night, wirelessly sync my Kindle, and it knows just where I was. Beautiful. Also, I got the Marvel & Comixology apps, and they're great, with a ton of free content, but the REAL win was my shelling out $8.49 for the ComicsZeal app. Let me say this oncely: IT LETS ME READ MY TOTALLY-LEGALLY-GOTTEN CBR & CBZ COMICS ARCHIVES. So now I have the entirety of StarMan, Batman: KnightFall & classic Deadpool on my iPad. My cup runneth over.

Some caveats:
-This is a very specific caveat that may only apply to me. I watch a lot of video podcasts. On the iPhone, I was able to start a podcast playing, then minimize it, then double-tap menu, slide to the left and hit play again, but this time in audio-only mode. This was a great way to extend battery life, or to multitasking and send messages/browse twitter/do something I needed my eyes for. The iPad can't do this. That's because the iPad has decided to split the music and video menus in order to give a slightly richer experience for both: audio now gets an iTunes style UI, and video gets a menu of movie posters. I like the new layouts, but it's cramping my style a bit. However, this has led to a strange feeling: walking to the train station, with my iPad in my bag and my headphones plugged in, listening to music I had no control over sent me rocketing back to my Walkman/Discman years. I didn't want to change the song, partially due to the fact that I would have to open my bag and take the device out. This is the opposite of my iPhone/iPod feeling, where I hated putting the device away, because I'd always want to see the songs and channel surf if needed. I find myself listening to songs I haven't heard in ages and some I don't recognize. It's a good thing.

-iPads need a powered USB port or an AC outlet to charge. All my back-of-PC USBs are full. But, using only a file, a hacksaw, and an XtremEMac iPhone dock, I macgyvered a solution:

(also check out my sweet CM Punk background)

So I love my iPad. Once again I have become one of those guys, but frankly, it's been happening often enough (laptop, kindle, iPhone) that I may need to accept that I am one of those guys.

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

* Tanja and I had agreed that once we zeroed off the credit card, we'd reward ourselves with something bought with cash. One month away from our goal, she couldn't wait, and she bought hers. Then I got mine. :D
** read: Tanja

2011-08-20T18:45:00.001-07:00

Testing, testing, testifying. What what.

Rye seeds in bread. Who I wanna be.

As high as your mom, more like.

-Lucas
Proxy Champignon,
Master of Brainthinking

Location:Test posting from BlogPress on the iPad.

Music Blog, Part 3: Martyrdom & Love

2011-08-13T22:36:00.000-07:00

This is a post that (like the next-to-previous) has been in my head for days, but thanks to my putting on Coupling late last evening, I have a way of introducing it:

I watched this bit with Tanja, who then turned to me and said "Do men actually think that way during sex?" and the answer was, without hesitation: "Absolutely."

Insecurity. It destroys me.

So anyway, the post I wanted to write was about a White Stripes song. It's off their Icky Thump Album from 2007.

Here:

(lyrics are here)

The narrator begins by mentioning a girl he saw exiting the zoo with a bunch of her friends. "16 and six feet tall", as he describes her. She trips over her high heels, and he catches her, saying that "Maybe these ruby shoes are a little cumbersome for you." Nice. It was off the cuff, but it impresses her. He admits himself that he was shaking and nervous and that he blurted this answer out without thinking, just "talkin' junk". But this impromptu conversation gets him her number, and he calls her a few times, but each time he's less cool, less interesting, has less to say. "My dumb-luck-fake-confidence was getting weak" he laments. So at the end of the 2nd or 3rd call, he breaks up with her, saying that there can't be any future for them:

"I could stay a while/but sooner or later I'll break your smile

And I can tell a joke/but one of these days I'm bound to choke

And we could share a kiss/but I feel like I can't go through with this

And I bet we could build a home/but I know the right thing for me to do

Is to leave you alone"

My original thought was that this was douche-like, that he's saving her the bad things he might do, but the more I listen to the song, the more I feel I understand. He loves her (or at least, the idea of her), and as such can't bear to disappoint her with the idea that he's not as cool as she might think. He knows he'll fuck it up eventually. He'll say something dumb, and she'll think less of him, and it's all downhill from there. He admits that it looks (and maybe is) cowardly and "a lame way to live" but he's powerless, and he hopes he appreciates the pain he's avoided giving here. That he's "A Martyr For My Love For You".

That bit always threw me, until I thought about how "martyr" can mean someone who chooses to destroy himself so that an idea can continue. In this case, it's the idea of Cool Him and Lovely Girl & Their Super Cool Relationship that he felt he was unable to maintain. This is such a deep and abiding self-doubt and insecurity that my heart goes out to him.For I have been there. But frankly, I was never even cool enough to start the conversation.

**edit**

Allow me to explain a little so my meaning is clear: in my current relationship, I am loved, and confident, and many other good things, despite my occasional (much-discussed on this blog) bouts of insecurity and self-pity. Left to my own devices, I am a lobster in a tank, eating myself until I can barely move. I'm saying I sympathise with the song's narrator. Or rather, I did, at one stage, knowing that situation myself.

And funny enough, while I was writing this, a Kaiser Chiefs song came on:

I can do it, I can do it, I can do it, I can do it without you.

But it wouldn't be very good.

Indeed.

**Second Edit**
In discussing this with Tanja and how it actually wasn't me saying that I "jumped aboard" with the first girl who "gave me the time of day", I remembered another poitn I had wanted to discuss about the song. When I re-evaluated the song, I had an inkling of an idea. Everything from the moment the narrator catches the girl to the end of the song... is in his head. He imagines saying something cool, but then further imagines how hard it would be to keep up that image, to the point where he'd need to exercise control and end the relationship. So this is him justifying and saying that he is right to have said nothing, thus affirming his self-image and framework and saving himself.

Which, as Tanja put it, is really sad.

Music Blog, Part 2: The Songs and Sounds of New Vegas

2011-08-13T22:25:00.000-07:00

I was playing Fallout: New Vegas this morning on my laptop. I had my iPhone on the speakers. I got a series of songs that I felt fit the western vibe of the game very well. I present those songs to you here:

The Raconteurs - The Switch & The Spur

Mark Lanagan - The Man In The Long Black Coat

The Dead Weather - So Far From Your Weapon

The Joel Plaskett Emergency - Written All Over Me

Hate Then Love - The Dears

Yeah. The last one doesn't quite match, but the next song that came on was Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi" and that sort of broke the mood.

Anyhow, I'm still really early into New Vegas, but I'm finding it much easier to be a bastard in this barren Western-style world than in the Capitol Wasteland of Fallout 3. Shooting & looting are a higher preference.

Music Blog, Part 1: Locking Down Black Snow Birds

2011-08-13T21:12:00.000-07:00

(the first in a 3-part series... that I will complete today. So maybe it shouldn't be cut into 3. But I want to, because the topics are different. like a lot.)

So. Right. This is a blog I had an idea for ages ago on a turbulent train trip to work in which I ended up on the wrong train, and had to jump off the train at North Strathfield and promptly forgot about it. Yes, it was the same day I made a comic about.

The train of thought was inspired by one of many PennPoint episodes where Penn Jillette talked about his feelings after seeing Paul McCartney in concert in Las Vegas. All of these had some interesting things to say, including whether an artist should respect your memory of their previous work (like Paul does) or not (like Bob Dylan), and if Sean Lennon looks frighteningly like his father (he does). The one that got my attention, though, was where Penn discussed "Blackbird", which admittedly is not one of my favourite Beatles songs, and how it's always difficult to describe poetry using prose. To sum up (though I recommend you watch all the videos), he said that people have long posited on the meaning of the lyrics of Blackbird, whether it was a personal story, or whether it was about X or Y or Civil Rights or whatever. Essays have been written (including blogs by The Beatles Complete On Ukelele, which is incredible and you should read/download all of their stuff like I have) trying to contemplate and dissect meanings from this poetry.

Then Paul McCartney came out 34 years after the song had been written and said it was about American Civil Rights.

Right.

As Penn said, him saying what he meant by the song locks down the meaning. It cements the meaning, making all other meanings false, to a given value of false. Well, rather, it makes those other meanings into mere "interpretations" and the stuff of first year university essays (I still say Poe's "The Fall of the House of Usher is a metaphor for brother-sister incest, you bastard professor). Admittedly, you could argue about the myth of the Auteur, and that the creator loses control of the work of art the moment it is released into the public, making all interpretations as real as the next until examined (sort of a Schrodinger's Song).

It's a theory I subscribe to, specifically due to the fact that I seem to be ridiculously easy to influence through music. A sad song can ruin my day. Seriously.

Anyhow, I reflect upon something I read in the liner notes of Barenaked Ladies' Greatest Hits album about the song "What a Good Boy". If you ain't heard it, go here for the video. The writer of the song explained in the notes that the song was "a young man's mediation on gender roles", but he had been sent so many interpretations and meanings for the song that were incredibly beautiful and transcended his original intention that he would prefer to let the song mean "whatever you'd like it to mean."

Sniff.

Oh, right. Snow. That Red Hot Chili Peppers song off of Stadium Arcadium. That day at North Strathfield, after I had watched Penn Point, and jumped off the train, this song came on. Now, I don't know if you know this one. I wouldn't have, had Tanja not gone through her "I must own all of the albums" phase of Chili Pepper liking.

Read the lyrics. They're here. Or watch the video.

My interpretation is that it's Anthony Kiedis having writer's block and relying on drugs to (initially) spark his creativity, despite knowing the dangers they pose, because he needs "more than himself to rely on", and that he enjoys the black-and-white morality of the addict: I need more, therefore I will get more, I am not accountable because it's not really me ("all my tracks/will be concealed").

I don't know if that's what he actually meant by the song, but that's what I think. And that matters, for a given value of matter.

Rules to live by (at least, in the kitchen)

2011-08-13T20:53:00.000-07:00

Original photo to be found here, by @grahamhancock, production wizard and camera guy at Revision3.

First Class

2011-08-11T05:03:00.000-07:00

Saw X-Men First Class tonight. I piratified it, as I couldn't drag Tanja into a cinema when it was out (I worry that Captain America will suffer a similar fate).

I liked it. I liked it a lot. But the moment it was over, my brain fell upon it and started nitpicking. And I'm not talking the nitpicking of one who knows the source material, which I am. No, this what story-nerd stuff.

***spoilers, kind of***

Like how I felt that Michael Fassbender did an excellent job as Eric Lensherr, but was a terrible Magneto. The moment he put on the helmet and started speechifying, I stopped believing the character. Admittedly, the speechifying was always the most Bond-villian-y part of Magneto and it's the least realistic. Yes, less realistic than moving metal with one's mind.

This is kind of par for the course for each character. I'll say "I liked the portrayal of this person/character" but then when I start to think about why I liked them, I realise that they didn't really have much to do in the film, so as such, their actions have no explanation, like Mystique or Angel's turns to evil, or Havok, who was basically a blaster, who, as a side-effect, had blond hair. I liked Hank McCoy, but his furred Beast make-up looked silly. Though, as with Magneto, just about any vaguely comic-like version of Beast is going to look silly. Moira McTaggart was an unrelated American character, who frankly, could have been anyone.

Anyway, I keep telling myself, I liked it! Damnit, why can't I enjoy it. What's wrong with me? If I enjoy it, why can't I just enjoy it?

A new scale for a new century.

2011-07-29T20:04:00.000-07:00

After doing some yardwork (which involved hacksawing off the ends of trees), I took off my hoody and shoes in preparation for showering off all the leaf-gunk. I took my iPhone out of my pcoket and briefly checked Twitter in case someone had replied to me. They had not, but I spotted a tweet from @punky_and_me with the word "Amazeballs" on it, a word I had used in a tweet the previous day, so I was intrigued and clicked the link. It was a link to the mobile page version of a blog post featuring amazing claymation art from Etsy. I really liked one part, so I went to leave a comment. Tapped "Leave a comment". I typed my comment into the field on the mobile version of the comments page. It asked me what ID I wanted to used, I choose my Google ID then pushed "post". I was then taken to the non-mobile-web version of the comments page with a suddenly-blank comments field. I dutifully retyped my comment, and filled in the Captcha, which was something like "Cohardleb", then pushed "post". However, in the time it took for my finger to go from typing to "post" my iPhone autocorrected "Cohardleb" to "cohabitable". The page then spat me back to the comments page, where I had to carefully re-enter a new Captcha, aptly "RitardSm", then pressed post again. I was the redirected to a Google log-in page where I needed to enter my email address and password. Then hit submit.

Finally, it posted. This whole thing took 7-9 minutes of frustrated pecking at my phone. For one two-line comment.

I reached a 6.5 on the Tanjabraun Scale of Anger-At-Technology (similar to the Rounsaville scale for measuring racism).

So far, in this dimension, the only event which has caused a full 10.0 Tanjabrauns was a left-ward swipe on the trackpad of a Sony Vaio laptop being interpreted as "back" on a browser, in which sat a 10-page blog post that it had taken the better part of 2 hours to write.

All my mornings should end up as comics.

2011-07-21T03:52:00.001-07:00

Brought to you by my trusty Moleskine Storyboard Notebook!

Cooking Sunday: White Chocolate Blondies

2011-07-16T19:37:00.000-07:00

This recipe originally came from a Revision3 podcast (now sadly cancelled) called Food Mob. It was an interesting show, with very cool recipes, but it had a flaw. The chef, Niall, would be cooking on the fly, and was a bit haphazard with measurements. Often what he would use would differ from the show notes on the website. The show notes themselves would often omit necessary steps and ingredients, or worse, list an ingredient, then never mention it in the instructions. As a result, to get a working recipe, you had to watch the show repeatedly, take notes, compare to the recipe in the show notes, and work out something yourself through trial and error.

This can be frustrating.

But here's one I've adapted from Niall's version and made multiple times. Fair warning, this is a very rich desert. Goes great for bake sales, but if you ate a whole batch to yourself, you might explode. And we wouldn't want that.

White Chocolate Blondies

THIS IS WHAT TO DO:

Preheat your oven to 200 degrees.
Take your butter out of the fridge. It'll be hard as a rock, so you can do this ages before, or, if you're stupid like me, you can put it into a ziploc bag, wrapper and all, and dip that bag into some hot water until it softens. Alternatively, you can put a baking tray with an inch of boiling water on the counter and rest the base of your metal mixing bowl in that. Did I mention you'll need a big metal bowl? You'll need a big metal bowl.
take your big metal bowl (see? Told you.) and dump in your brown sugar. When your butter is soft enough (and you'd better hope it is), put it in with the brown sugar.
Now comes the hard part. Get a wooden spoon or flat spatula, and mix the butter and sugar together, creaming them. It'll take some muscle. Don't use a whisk. Don't use an electric mixer. Both will just make a big mess and you'll spend half your time trying to pick the mixture out of the mixing-device-beater-tool-tong-thing. Think of this as character building, and reminisce about the last RPG character you made and how awesome they were until the game got boring.
Now once your mixture is well blended and there are no lumps of butter in it, it should look like this:

Add your flour, baking powder, salt, and baking soda to the wet mix, get your spatula, and mix it all together again. It'll separate out into little globs, but keep mixing. It'll get smooth again.
Break the egg into the bowl and mix again. You arm might be tired at this point. Switch arms. Seriously, you could hurt yourself.
Once you've mixed the egg in, spread a handful of walnuts onto a chopping board. Oh, crap, did i forget to put walnuts on the list? You need walnuts. Write that down. So. the walnuts. Spread 'em out like this:

(the picture is actually two handfuls) Run your knife through them, chopping into little bits. You could use a food processor or a mortar and pestle. Listen to your heart. Pour your chopped-up walnuts into the mixture and stir them in again. You thought you were done with the stirring? No, no, is no done.
Get your vanilla pod.

Slice the pod lengthwise and use your knife to scrape out the speckly stuff inside. Into the bowl with it. Stir thoroughly, making sure all the speckles are spread around.
Measure out your chocolate chips. I use white chips, but really, you can use whatever you like. Into the mix with them and stir for the last time, I promise. The mix should be really thick by this point to where you can stand the spoon up in the bowl with no trouble, to whimsical effect:

Or you could fantasize about the world's unhealthiest lollipop:

Ahem. Anyhow.

Get your pan, and lay down some baking paper. Scoop your mixture onto it, and flatten it down to about 4cm thick. Make sure there's baking paper between the mix and the pan, otherwise it'll stick.

Into the oven with it. 20 minutes. Open the oven door, and poke a skewer into the middle. If it comes out wet, give it another 5 minutes.
Take the tray out of the oven and let it sit for a few minutes, to let it settle back down (I didn't know what the opposite verb for "rise" was). It ought to look like this:

As soon as you can, use the paper to lift the whole thing out of the pan and set it on a cutting board or tray. Peel the paper edges away and let it breathe:

As soon as you can (again), chop the whole thing into squares and carefully lift them off the baking paper onto some paper towel (if you do this too soon, they'll fall apart. Judge it). The reason for the rush it that the blondies will leak butter as they cool. The last thing you want is that butter sitting on the paper and making the bottom of your squares soggy. You may need to move them carefully onto new paper towels a couple of times. Once they've settled, you're done! You can dust 'em with icing sugar, but really, they're fine on their own. See?

What I Got (continued)

2011-07-08T18:25:00.000-07:00

WATCHING Forgot to mention a few more podcasts. Despite my dislike of their myriad of convention shows, iFanboy is still going strong since leaving Revision3. Their shows on Frank Miller and Starman have been my favourites lately. LifeHacker is one I've been trialing, and is nothing but good so far. It's basically tips on how to streamline and nerd up your life and work, such as making a cord-free office, making an emergency lamp out of a tuna can, or a laptop bag out of your hoodie. PennPoint is handy because when I watch it minimised, it's like listening to a radio show hosted by Penn Jillette. One of the few podcasts where video ain't necessary, which is good when your battery is low, or you have Twittering to do.

APP-ING I've been leaning away from iPhone games lately, using my phone much more for media and web-based stuff, though one has grabbed my attention: ShapeShift may look like a Bejewelled clone, and maybe it is, but it's highly addictive. My only gripe is that it's not timed, but turn-based, and you don't get any bombs (the only things that'll stop a game) until at least 8-10 minutes of gameplay. So until that point there is absolutely no challenge. It's also a battery-suck. I've also been playing a bit of Fruit Ninja, since they updated and added Arcade mode, which really changes up the action, adding power-ups and rewarding you for creativity. I've long been a user of Words With Friends, sometimes running as many as 20 games at a time. This has become its downfall, though, as the sheer number of games combined with an instant rematch after each win or loss has rendered the joy of winning obsolete. As it doesn't matter, then my motivation for playing is lost. I've branched out into its cousin, Hangin' With Friends, but it's not grabbing me as much. The random nature of Hangman means you either get the word straight away or you have no idea and flail about getting things wrong. I therefore don't feel accomplished when I get something, I just feel lucky. Social-media-wise, SoundTracking has been my latest download. It's free, and it is to music what Instagram is to photos. You can have to grab what's playing around you (handy in bars or music shops) or grab what's on your iPhone and post it with a comment. The big honking downside? Nobody's using it. At least, no one that I know. That means the service only exists to post songs to Facebook, Twitter, etc. Without the rich community that Instagram has, I don't think it'll stick with me long. Speaking of Instagram, it's become one of my primary ways of interacting with my social networks. You guys think I tweet a lot? My Instagram feed is 2-3 times as full. However, my love of skylines and clouds has gotten me tons of likes from people I don't know, but annoys the crap of people I actually know. So swings and roundabouts. Speaking of Apps, I still can't find a good blogging app for iPhone that'll let me post photos to Blogger the way I normally do, and it shits me.

READING I've been digging through the pile of books I've had since Christmas and cleared a few off my list. I finally took the plunge and read The Gunslinger by Stephen King. Despite high hopes, I did not like it. I found the language too florid and the characters inscrutable, taking actions I did not understand and they did not explain. I was waiting for the actions to make sense, but no one gave any explanation for what they were doing apart from it's "what I must do." Great. Thanks. One I had no preface to was iBoy by Kevin Brooks. It's a kid from the housing projects outside of London who has an iPhone hit his head from a high height and gets superpowers. Yep. Initially it's just an internal processor and all the knowledge of the InterWebz, but then it extends to a personal forcefield, electrical powers, telekenesis and, well, whatever the plot demands from the scene. No upper limit or explanation is given for these powers, and he essentially runs around beating up gang members until the finale, which by that point I did not care about. It was not a good book. The third volume of Transmetropolitan by Warren Ellis, and the series is starting to bug me. It tends to alternate between wonderful, funny and interesting stories, and then perhaps one issue in three will be terrible. It's inconsistant stuff like that that I want to push through to get to the good stuff. Example? A sentient police dog that Spider castrated during a riot seeks revenge upon him. It's exactly as bad as it sounds. But the rest is so good! Argh. However, I am tempted to try the Spider Jerusalem Experiment. For one day, from early morning to late at night, to watch television. To do nothing but watch free-to-air television. Take it all in. I think it'll either result in some amazingly interesting blogness or my brains running out of my ears. I have 8 or so issues of The Word sitting waiting to be perused. i should really do something about that.

LISTENING I've found a cheap CD shop (10 CDs for $50) near my work, so I've resupplied my musicness. Here's a list because I couldn't be bothered keeping up the format of my own blog entry:

Pulp - Hits (I don't know why I keep buying Pulp albums. I think I need to admit that I like the idea of pulp more than I like the actual music.)
Two Door Cinema Club - Tourist History (discovered this through Soundtracking, fun electro-indie pop stuff. Highly catchy)
Grinderman 2 (Grind Harder? Electric Boogaloo? More strange and interesting stuff from Nick Cave and the Dirty Three. However, like with the first album, I'm only keeping about half of it in my rotation.)
Cold War Kids - Robbers & Cowards (Indie. But not hipsterish. I like it. Next question.)
Muse - Absolution (More epic soundscapes. Sounds great through big headphones. May lead to slight air guitar)
Kaiser Chiefs - Yours Truly Angry Mob (cementing the fact that yes, I really like the Kaiser Chiefs. They are fun and I like them.)
Siouxsie - Mantaray (I've had three tracks (Into A Swan, Loveless & Drone Zone) from this album forever. I think I got the best tracks, as the rest of the album isn't all that.)
She Wants Revenge - This Is Forever (more of the same from the Joy-Division-sounding darkwave-post-punk-electro duo. This is not a bad thing. This is a good thing.)
The Puppini Sisters - The Rise & Fall of Ruby Woo/Betcha Bottom Dollar (Andrew-sisters-1940s-style-close-harmony-singing mixing covers of Beyonce and the Bangles with old school swing hits. Addictive and wonderful.)
The Bravery - The Sun And The Moon Complete (What's this? a two-disc set with the same songs on each? It's the original garage-sounding 2007 album on Disc-1, and the same songs redone and re-recorded with a more electronic synthy twist on Disc 2)
The Pipettes - We Are The Pipettes (60s Girl Group tribute act. Pure summer pop goodness. Check out Pull Shapes, as mentioned in Jamie McKelvie's Phonogram: The Singles Club)
...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead - So Divided (these guys continue to impress me, though seemingly no two of their songs are remotely the same in tone or genre. Lush and layered sounds that sound fantabulous through headphones or good speakers)
Beastie Boys - Hot Sauce Committee Part 2 (have only listened to a bit of this but it seems like a return to form)

There! That'll do it. That should give you something to do for a bit.

Organ Size

2011-07-08T01:10:00.000-07:00

I understand this lighter is meant to be bawdy and ribald. I understand this. But it is fundamentally incorrect, even within the confines of its own joke logic.

The idea behind this comment is as follows:

The skin is the largest organ in the body. This is fact. The assertion the joke makes is that the gonads of the lewd-lighter-holder are in fact larger than the entirety of a normal human’s skin, usurping the claim of Largest Organ Evah.

HOWEVER.

If the fanciful-lighter-holder truly had a set of gonads that large, said brobdingnagian gonads would be covered with skin. Thus adding to the skin’s overall area to the point where the skin is STILL the largest organ on the capricious-lighter-holder’s body.

Unless:

a) The quirky-lighter-holder’s brobdingnagian gonads are in fact skinless, and thus would be prone to infection, rupture and, well, falling out... OR

b) The humorous-lighter-holder’s brobdingnagian gonads contain within them yet another skin-equivalent in mass through density (potentially due to being made of some sort of organic metal).

In either case, it would be a serious medical condition and should not be the subject of a whimsical cigarette lighter boast.

I’m Lucas, and Things Like That Shit Me.

What I Got (Watching)

2011-07-05T16:06:00.000-07:00

New look blog! Or at least, until I decide to change it again. The background seems to be the hardest thing to decide on. So expect further changes, as I am indecisive.

I've had all these posts rushing around in my head, so I'm going to try and combine them into a rapid-fire short-form-list of what I've been watching/reading/listening/Apping.

Is Apping a word? It is now.

Warning. Excessive linking ahead.

WATCHING With my longer commute, I've finally been delving into things I've had on the HDD for months, including Transformers Animated, Justice League, Teen Titans, and Transformers Prime. All are highly recommended, for different moods. T:A is arc-based, like Justice League, so it's great to watch the stories unfold when you can watch 3 or 4 episodes in a row. TT is much MUCH more episodic and far less serious (they even have a special Japanese version of the awesome PuffyAmiYumi theme song as a signal that it'll be a silly show). Transformers Prime is as if Beast Wars, War For Cybertron, and the Transformers film series had a crazy LAN Party/threesome which made beautiful shiny robotic baby, and then had it raised with the G1 series as a nanny, which is a strange image and I want you all to forget it. Thing is, I know the first half-season of ALL these shows are not the best. Persevere. They will Grow The Beard. Promise. Also, seeing all these awesome shows has made one I previously loved look a bit shallow. Batman Beyond was always my favourite of the DCAU, and compared to Justice League, frankly most of it seems a bit shallow (but I could listen to the theme song all day long). Oh, and the first season of Batman: The Animated Series sucked. Like a lot. At home, since we've run out of Castle, Modern Family, & Community (which we still love), and Big Bang Theory, Chuck and 30 Rock (which we're starting to wane on, due to Flanderization and Seasonal Rot), we've been looking into movies. The arrival of Netflix Instant streaming into our house caused an evening of Emma/How To Marry A Millionaire (which showcased examples of Politeness Judo & Ship-To-Ship Combat in the former and MegaNekko in the latter). It's also caused me to find the Astonishing X-Men Motion Comic. It's also caused an overabundance of choice, which has led to occasional BSOD moments when deciding what to watch. Happily, there's always Firefly. My podcast watching has slowed ever since I took a few weeks off watching Podcasts while trying to sort out my music library. Then they piled up and suddenly I have 14 episodes of FrameRate, 10 of NSFW, 42 of the Totally Rad Show and 17 Diggnations. Funnily enough, I was about to keep up with Destructoid, Appjudgment, Death Battle, and Bytejacker due to their shorter run times. Though Bytejacker is now on hiatus, which makes me sad.

Oh, crap, that took 34 minutes to write. I might need to pick this "What I Got" thing up later, as I must get ready for work.

My Game of Thrones Review.

2011-07-01T15:12:00.000-07:00

Filmed early in the morning at Parramatta station. I say "awesome" a lot.

Huge Huge Huge Reductions! Never Pay Full Price Again!

2011-06-21T05:19:00.001-07:00

Belonging

2011-06-16T05:01:00.000-07:00

Nearby my new office, amid the office buildings and shopping centres, there is a tiny corner. See? Here it is on Google Maps.

View Larger Map
Yeah, it’s there, but you can’t see it. That’s because this place was willed into existence.

That little laneway corner thing? Someone nailed a roof on it, stacked some kitchen counters and cabinets and a few camp stove burners, then started piling things up, stacking things around, and making coffee.

This is Circa.

As anyone who follows me on “the Instagrams” knows, I have been sneaking many a photo of this place. That’s because there is so much to see in this small space. There are old timey bicycles nailed to the walls, there is a hatrack with a top hat, a flat cap, and whatever the hell the owners and baristas wore to work that day. There are wine crates full of books about anything from graffiti (I had a leaf through Banksy’s Wall & Peace) to ballet & photography. There is an inlaid mother-of-pearl backgammon set. There is a record player and a stack of 45s. The cakes they made in-house that day sit in a kitchen cupboard on the wall. The menu is written on butcher’s paper & stuck on the wall.

The three guys who run the place are hard at work, but are constantly talking with customers both regular & drop-in. Though the walls are concrete, they’ve built windows and painted them with seaside vistas. The music playing is a far cry from Cafe Del Mar or any Chillout mix. It’s James Brown, Ray Charles, soul and funk from the 70s, and even some US. It comes either from some of their records, or it’s one of the guys’ iPhones plugged into a dock by the door. The music is usually good enough that I take off my headphones when I enter, which is unprecedented.

Today, I sat at the back of the place and had my coffee & listened to the owner chat with a woman who had come in. She mentioned that she had brought them more books (including some comics from the 90s), and that she was happy to print them up some cards to give to people. This woman was not affiliated with the cafe, she was just a regular. She then started talking about which pork roast was best, then segues into how, “Yes, Lisa, it’s a wonderful, MAGICAL animal.”

Hearing it, it made me want to be a regular too. More so than at any other cafe I’ve been to.

Meet the Meat.

2011-06-13T01:11:00.000-07:00

*Warning: This post not for the squeamish or puritan vegetable folk*

I was just intimidated by a piece of meat. Tonight, I'm making Aussie Berko. At Marrickville, I asked the butcher for 4 pieces of beef Osso Bucco (the shin piece). Those 4 pieces came to a kilo and a half due to two of them being enormous. As part of the recipe, I have to brown the pieces in the casserole dish before it goes in the oven. These two pieces are so big, I have to brown the meat in two batches. I then take the meat out to rest while the veggies cook. As it was resting, I glanced over at the topmost and biggest piece. And it grossed me out.

I'm not that squeamish, not really. Admittedly, I don't like things that stick to my hands while I cook (like egg or mince or flour or things like that) so I rinse my hands a lot. But this? Okay. I'll try to explain.

Osso Bucco, or shin beef, looks like this. That is fine. But this piece had been badly cut, which meant that in addition to the central bone, there was a second half-piece of bone stuck to the bottom. This second piece was belled outward, so it was most likely fron the end of the bone near the joint. You know what else is near joints? Tendons. Ligaments. Things that look like tubes or straws. So after I'd browned the meat, I took off this second piece of bone and there was a reddish mess of tubes and I nearly gagged.

Yes. I understand meat comes from an animal, an animal that was once alive. I get that, I understand that. For some reason though, that just hit me.

The meat is now in the oven. I shall conquer my moment of fear by consuming it in a delicious tomato-dark beer sauce.

....or I might cut that bit out and leave it on the side of my plate.

On an completely unrelated note, last night, while making Sausage & Zucchini Carbonara (a future Cooking Post), I was zesting a lemon overzealously, and manages to drag the zester across my thumb. Here it is after a day of healing (it bled like a mofo). Today Tanja and I stopped in at Caketown to pick up something, and chatted with the guy who runs the place. As he handed us out purchase, he noticed I had a bandage on my thumb, and showed his own thumb, which had a cut a few days old on it, and said we were in the same boat. "No," I replied. "Lemon zester." He made a face, turned away and threw his hands up all in one motion (which was a thing to behold) and declared "Eyargh! That's why I work with pastry, not with meat! Ugh!"

So I got to feel tough.

Edit: A post-script. The meal turned out to be so bad as to be inedible. The meat was tough, even near the bone, and the broth, which is usually rich and flavourful was bland and tasteless. Clearly, I should have gone with my gut instinct and backed off. So the whole pot (meant to be two nights' dinners) went in the bin. I'm further frustrated because Tanja is always hesitant to have this dish, as stews are not her favourite thing. The first time she had this, she did not like it. The second time she did. This time, I had to convince her to have it for dinner. Which then failed spectacularly. I don't think I'll get to make it a fourth time. [glum]

Trop tarde.

2011-06-05T03:20:00.000-07:00

(Written Thursday morning, uploaded Friday night, not posted until Sunday. Work ethic!)

For the want of a look.

2011-06-01T00:20:00.001-07:00

So today I bought myself a new 2 terabyte hard drive & some blank DVDs. They were in my satchel, which I could barely close. I went into Kmart, looking for Blutack & raffle tickets, found the Blutack. I was a little worried coming up to the cash register, because if they wanted to check my bag, I'd have to take everything out to get the receipt for the HD & DVDs. So I pay for the Blutack, she asks if I want a bag. I say no, I'll just put it in my bag. I then cram the Blutack into my overloaded bag. Which is clearly full of stuff. I wait a second to see if she's going to ask to check. She thanks me for shopping at Kmart. Okay. I leave. THE GATE BEEPS AS I LEAVE. I stop, turn back, and she waves me on. Incredible. And how can I get away with this amazing implied larceny?

Stealth technology. Camouflage. A cloak that allows me access to the benefit of the doubt and respectability.

I am, of course, talking about corporate attire.

It got me out of a train fine last week. I've not had a bag check at JB Hifi. Everyone is polite, and smiles. It's insane.

I mean, sure, I hate bag checks. Hate them so much that I'm tempted to steal something for every time they check my bag unnecessarily. But now I almost want them to. But I want them to for principle. Because that's why they've always said they've checked me before. "Oh, we check everyone." Which is bullshit. The addition of an eyebrow ring, two centimeters of sideburn on each side, and the removal of a collar? I'm criminal.

Of course, the opposite is true too. At one point, Tanja and I were at the Union having dinner, and I engaged the barman in conversation about some of the craft beer he orders. He was older than me, a real rockabilly guy, with tattoo sleeves, long sideburns and slick hair. As the conversation went on, I felt the urge to say something to show that I was cool, that I knew his scene or something. I resisted, thankfully. I hate those "Aw yeah, I used to have hair like that" conversations.

And yes, I'm aware of the hypocrisy of my resisting one group judging me on my (corporate) appearance and encouraging another group relating to me based upon my (non-corporate) appearance.

I'm not done on this issue, but frankly, I'm confused as to my own message.

Man & Superman

2011-05-26T04:52:00.000-07:00

Because I'm too lazy to type or write*.

2011-05-23T13:26:00.000-07:00

*but not too lazy, it seems, to do 4 hours of video editing while being increasingly frustrated by Windows Live Movie Maker. Multiple crashes, one bad enough to restart my computer for me, and and file issues made this extremely frustrating. Enjoy.

Saturday.

2011-05-21T00:39:00.000-07:00

Release

2011-05-19T14:25:00.000-07:00

The Scrivener

2011-05-18T04:13:00.000-07:00

Behold: a ScribbleBlog which I was initally not to happy with, but I wanted to save the pages.

Also, just to show you what I've been doing between the 45 or so daily minutes where we learn something and we aren't waiting for the system to start working again, I will show you.

PS: I hate it when you've got a book you know nothing about and buy and read and like and then it ends unsatisfactorily because it's the first part of an as-yet-unwritten quadrilogy. Fuck.

Paying Off

2011-05-14T23:23:00.000-07:00

I took a punt on a comic today due to the lure of a bargain.

Now, as I've mentioned before, certain types of comics get me down. Like way down. I hate bleak, nihilisitic topics, and tend to find both ultra-violence & cyberpunk grating and uninteresting.

So I was as surprised as you when I both purchased, then enjoying the living hell out of TransMetropolitan.

It's really, really good.

I had been avoiding it for ages, despite my liking of The Authority & NextWave & Fell & Planetary, due to the one Vertigo short I had read consisting of Spider Jerusalem running through a party shouting sound-bites at people.

The main book is like that too, but also much more awesome. It's funny, and it's rude (Mr Ellis seems to be tired of the word fuck, some uses new combinations, such as "whorehopper"), and clearly has a message. The futuristic city (which, as seemingly every future city needs to be, has every square metre plastered with shrieking ads, but at least the characters dislike it as much as I do) is far enough into the future to make what needs to be possible possible for the story. Need a gun that causes bowel release? They have a kit for that. (Yes. Yes, they do. And it's hilarious.) Need your sidekick to be an incontinent gecko-hunting two-headed cat who smokes? Done. It's a place where even the on-board AI on a food-dispenser is addicted to drugs.

So I highly recommend TransMet. Go read it. Especially you.

I also understand that the liking of this counter-culture book may have coincidently occurred on the day I have to buy new formal shoes, shave off my sideburns, and take out my eyebrow ring to go work for my first proper corporate job. Yeah.

Alternative Character Interpretation: Part 1

2011-05-10T17:44:00.000-07:00

So this is part 1 of 4 of a series of thoughts I've been having based around characters, specifically those from Lord of the Rings and Fallout 3.

I've always been one to over-analyse. It's an interest I fostered in high school which then went into overdrive in University & beyond. As Simon Pegg put in in his autobiography "Nerd Do Well" (which I highly recommend):

(read the whole paragraph, you, not just the highlighted bit)

Many people's reaction to over-analysis of film or television is "God, you're wanking on a bit. Can't you just enjoy it? Well, yes. Though this stuff mostly comes out in things like Lord of the Rings, which I have seen in its 11-hour-extended-edition-entirety upwards of 30 times. It's a trilogy I love. I love it so much, in fact, that I've become slightly numb to the obvious moments of greatness. And it's that numbness that allows you to notice smaller things that are going on. Which is what we come to today.

Part 1: Wormtongue

Azula: I can see your whole history in your eyes. You were born with nothing, so you've had to struggle, connive, and claw your way to power. But true power, the divine right to rule, is something you're born with. The fact is, they don't know which one of us is going to be sitting on that throne, and which one is going to be bowing down. But I know, and you know. (sits on the throne)Well?

Long Feng:....(kneels before Azula) You've beaten me at my own game.

Azula: Don't flatter yourself. You were never even a player.

— Avatar: The Last Airbender

(I know, I know, different universe, but it illustrates what I'm talking about so well!)

(also, let's be clear, I'm discussing the film version, as portrayed by Brad Dourif)

So there's this kid, right? He's shorter than all the other kids. He can't run as fast. He's no good on a horse. He is a terrible sword-fighter. In fact, he's terrible at pretty much anything physical. But he's always thinking. He quickly realises that this can be something important and useful, so he develops his mind. He studies medicine, political intrigue, relationships between those in power. He organises things, and through this, becomes quite valuable. He trades favours and offers advice, gaining position through flattery, bribes, blackmail, threats, and in some cases, poison (which his medical studies made him an expert in). Eventually, though, he finds that in this kingdom, you can only go so far without might or skill with a sword. So he looks elsewhere, makes a powerful and dangerous allegiance, weakens the king, and takes his place as the Bismarck to the King's Wilhelm. He essentially infects the entire court with Munchausen-by-proxy: You need me here, to help the King. Once this is established, he is King in all but name, despite only being the conduit for another power.

This is how we meet Wormtongue. He is "advisor" to king Theoden, while being used by Saruman to control Rohan. He keeps the King weak and confused (implied to be through "witchcraft", but possibly through drugs as well) and whispers his & Saruman's wonts into the King's ear. He is still a weak figure, but he is able to command power, changing rules, and banishing those who oppose him. In return, he is promised more power, and especially the "hand" (....yeah) of Eowyn, the King's niece.

Of course, in ride Gandalf and our heroes, and we all know what happens: they awaken the King, who literally throws Grima from the hall. Grima would have been slaughtered, had not Aragorn stepped in.

Grima runs to Saruman, looking for a new place to set up shop. He brings information with him, still his only currency, and trades it to Saruman for shelter. He explains who cast him out (right down to what jewelry they were wearing) as well as the weaknesses of the Helm's Deep fortress wall. At this point, Grima has given up all the information he has, selling out his court, his King, and his people, out of desperation, and of slim hope of his expected reward (regime change, get the girl, all those people I hate go away).

Saruman takes this information and reveals some of his plan: he has gunpowder, all the better to exploit the weakness in the fortress. Oh, and he also has 10,000 magically-frenzied Uruk Hai outside the window, fully armoured and ready to attack. Grima's information was mildly useful, but not essential. He has played his entire hand and lost.

Here's where it gets interesting and I had my little revalation. What I noticed is in the visual composition of the scenes between him and Saruman. Initially, Grima is seated on a throne-like chair, nursing his wounds while Saruman paces. Grima's position implies power, almost as if he is recovering his strength. Once the gunpowder is revealed, Saruman takes centre stage, with Grima crouched behind him, both literally and figuratively in his shadow. Specifically, Grima is holding a candlestick in his right hand. The candlestick is about 40 cm long and has a tiny stub of white candle on top, which is lit. This candlestick is a miniature version of Saruman's wizard staff (a tall black rod, topped by a white ball). This again demonstrates the power difference between them at a glance. Saruman even, in a comical moment, holds Grima back to stop his candle from coming too close to the gunpowder. Apart from the obvious ("Don't blow us up, idiot"), this is Saruman asserting dominance ("What little power you hold, I can control at will"). They cross to the window, and we (and Grima) see the army. The air from their roars snuffs out his candle. For a moment, He and Saruman stand side-by-side, Saruman with his staff in his right hand, Grima with his (now useless) candlestick. The visual comparison is clear. Grima was never more than a pretender, a wannabe Big Bad.

Grima, up until this point, has been a power-player. He has played both sides off the middle for so long that it is second nature to him. He gives the information to Saruman, thinking that while it might allow Saruman an advantage, the Big S was biting off a bit more than he can chew by attacking Helm's Deep. Then he sees the army.

Then he realises that Saruman does not want a regime change. He does not want to win a battle. He wants genocide. He wants all men gone. Grima might have been trying to push other people out of the boat, but he wasn't drilling holes in the bottom. He realises that he's been played, that he had no real power, and that there is now absolutely nothing he can do about it.

So he holds very still, and weeps.

Brain food

2011-05-07T20:38:00.001-07:00

Our whole neighbourhood smells of charcoal due to a neighbour having a barbecue. Tanja's always a bit sickened by the smell due to too many charcoal chicken shops nearby to where she lived when she was younger. It raised a question in my mind, though. Why is the smell of charcoal/roasting things so arresting, even if we're not hungry?

Is it

a) the smell of charcoal and roasting brings to mind happy memories of eating, family, satisfaction, etc, so our brain jumps the queue and goes "charcoal=happy"?

b) the smell of cooked-down wood on fire breaks right through all the rational memory and hits our reptilian/Australopithecus centre of the brain and goes "Smell of smoke=fire=potentially dead=BE CAREFUL DUMBASS".

I lean towards the latter. In either case, the reaction is the same: nostrils flare, heads up, looking around. Evolved, ain't we?

Also, apropos of nothing, I want to post this bit from Warren Ellis & Ben Templesmith's Fell (all ownership theirs, fair use, etc etc, this is educational):

Ted, you need to make this at Mars Hill.

Cooking Tuesday: Egyptian Stuffed Flatbread

2011-05-02T18:11:00.000-07:00

So, despite my initial idea that I had done quite a few of these recipe posts, turns out I only actually did two. Go figure. I thought I had at least three. Oh well. This is one of my go-to "we're hungry, it's a weeknight, hurry up!" recipes.

Egyptian Stuffed Flatbread

I have no idea if this is authentically Egyptian, but frankly, I don't care. It's good. Serves two as a meal, or 4 as a starter. Goes great with soups.

DO THIS FIRST

--Your Oven

Preheat it as high as it will go. Seriously.

--Prep Your Bits:

It just sounds so rude! Nah, basically, all this step involves is taking whatever bits you're using (chicken, lamb, pork, etc) and chopping it up into bite-sized pieces. Admittedly, if you don't have any leftovers, you can just buy a couple of thigh fillets, cook them on a grill and chop them up. But the idea here is to use what you already have in the fridge. Though not pizza. Anyway, chop the bits and put them in a mixing bowl.

--Start Your Mixture

You know that bowl with the bits in it? Crack in the two eggs, and dump in your spices. Zest your lemon, chop the zest up fine, and throw it into the bowl as well. Squeeze on half of the lemon over the bowl. Slice up your spring onions and put about 3/4 of them into the bowl too (keep a few aside for later). Pinch of salt, bit of pepper, into bowl. Mix the whole shebang together, making sure all your bits are coated and the eggs get beaten. You could beat the eggs before, but that's another step and another bowl to wash.

--Flatbreads

Get out your baking trays. This bit is done easiest with spray olive oil. Spray the inside of one tray and lay your flatbread in it. I use two if they're big, three or four if they're small. You're going to be folding them over like a quesadilla, so just put your filling onto one half. Smooth it out with your spoon, so it's level. Keep it clear of the edges, or it'll run out. Now spray the bottom of the second tray with your oil, fold the flatbreads over, and put the second tray on top, so it holds them down. This also means both sides will get crispy.

NOW THE ACTUAL COOKING (sort of)

Put the trays into the oven for 8 minutes.

WHILE THIS IS HAPPENING (I love dramatic headings)

Get a big plate. In the middle, dollop your yogurt. Grab a handful of mint leaves and tear them up over the yogurt.

Wait a bit. A small bit. Until the 8 minutes is up. I don't know, maybe sing a little song or something.

Ding! Flatbreads are done. Take them out of the oven (the top layer should make noise when you tap it with a fork. Seriously) and lay them out on your cutting board. Slice the flatbreads into triangles (or trapezoids or dodecahedrons) and arrange them in a circle on the plate around the yogurt. Leave one side of the plate free, and dollop on your hommous, making a little well in the middle of the homous and pouring on some olive oil.

Scatter over your leftover spring onions and a little bit more sumac, cumin and zahtar (don't go mad, though).

And that's it! Mine usually ends up looking something like this:

*Disclaimer: original recipe from JAMIE'S AMERICA by Jamie Oliver. I do not claim to own this recipe, I just make it a lot. Dude, why would I claim this is mine? I don't want to get sued.

Live From Nando's, It's the Live-Action Space Invaders Counselling Hour!

2011-05-01T21:14:00.000-07:00

For those of you who were missing the T-Shirt of the week:

This is my Live Action Space Invaders shirt. It's one of the few shirts I feel weird about wearing around Tanja's parents.

So yes! Today. I write things down. Again.

(Click for bigger photos if my writing hurts your brain.)

(NOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM)

A Comic I Made This Morning

2011-04-27T22:43:00.000-07:00

As presented by my fancy-schmancy Moleskine storyboard book!

Another post-interview hard-copy blog.

2011-04-27T21:49:00.000-07:00

Because absolutely no one asked for it!

People who aren't funny.

2011-04-27T04:48:00.000-07:00

I think the movie Funny People represents an actual, measurable infinity. Not a theoretical infinity, but an actual infinity. So even now as I am writing about watching Funny People, I am still, in fact, watching Funny People.

This belief is due to the fact that I attempted to watch this film when Tanja was in the hospital. I got about 25 minutes in, then switched to something else. I've re-added it to my iPod a few times since then, but never got more than 6 or 7 minutes further. The sheer awkwardness of every conversation made everything seem to take forever.

The other night I sat down, with it playing behind the window on my computer while I did things like fixed eBay listings and read TVTropes. After an age, I glanced up and saw that I still had a fucking hour and a half left and gave up.

Well, I killed that particular dragon tonight. I watched an hour and a half straight of unattractive, awkward-looking people who couldn't have a conversation without trying to make it into a routine or a cliche or something so it's all just boring (it was like I was watching The Room again!).

I get the idea: comedians make jokes to hide that they have difficulty making real connections with people and most people are jerks. Your movie's still not funny or interesting.

But at 2-and-a-half-hours? Fuck me, is it long.

That being said, I completely agree with this.

PS: if I'm reading a book on my Kindle, then I read a bit on my iPhone Kindle App, my Kindle asks me if I want to jump to the page I just finished reading on my iPhone. Isn't technology neat?

Blue Wednesday

2011-04-26T20:20:00.000-07:00

Instant Gratification, Thy Name Is Kindle

2011-04-25T18:35:00.000-07:00

Despite the literally 20 books-to-read I have at my bedside, I still look at bookstores. And I spotted this book right here "Allison Hewitt is Trapped: A Zombie Novel" by Madeline Roux. The back of the book explained that this was a book about a blog written by a graduate student that got trapped in the breakroom of the bookstore she worked in when the midden (zombies) struck the windmill (everything else).The various blog entries have comments from other survivors and it's that format that holds the whole thing together. But I get ahead of myself. I'm still in the bookstore. I look at the price: it's $29.95. That's too much to conscience considering I won't have a job in the week. So I use Google Goggles on my phone to search it, to be told it's not available to have on Kindle in Australia. Bugger. So I get home, have a quick search of torrent sites. No luck. I try Amazon again and suddenly I'm allowed to buy it in Kindle form. Go figure. $9.35. Sold.

Then I sat up until 2am reading it. It's that gripping. Having worked in a big chain bookstore, I could imagine that backroom with such detail that I suspected the author might have spent some time in Borders Bondi.

I can't spoil much, as like I said, the book ain't done. But something's bugging me. It's something I've noticed when other writers with have a character, in-story, decide to record what's happening, be it with a journal, or a blog, or a recording, or something: the writing style doesn't change. It should, really. A character commiting things to paper/computer will write differently from a fiction author painting a scene. The description might be toned down, word use might retreat to bare facts, instead or reporting word-for-word what someone said in quotations, it should be reported like "we discussed it, then moved on", etc. This book doesn't read like a blog:

it reads like a book. Because of this, I actually I find the initially-interesting blog format to be constraining. Would a character REALLY write down a hallucination-like dream in such detail in the middle of a life-or-death struggle? Oh no, our character is in danger and I'm really in the moment! Oh, wait. It's going to be okay, otherwise how would she blog it?

So yeah. Stuff like that keeps pulling me out of the story. But I like it, and will finish it.

also there is a cat named Sugar who keeps jumping up in front of the keyboard and blocking the keys with his tail and no matter how many times you sling a cat against a wall it never really stuns 'em does it

Waiting in the cafe.

2011-04-19T18:35:00.000-07:00

This blog entry was composed in the Moleskine™ App. However, this app is a bit flawed, in that it lets you export to email, Twitter, or Facebook, but not to Blog or Notepad. Also, none of the pictures or in-app markings export out, just the text, which is irritating. So it’s a beautiful app, just needs some tweaking. So I screenshotted it. See?

In which I actually become an old man.

2011-04-16T22:17:00.001-07:00

So today was full of many gripes from myself and Tanja. For once, though, these gripes were directed outward, causing not sadness, but a sort of happy-anger. Some examples, written in the first person to save the invective:

"Damnit, Oporto! I know it's fast food, but I'm a 29-year-old adult! Can't I order a chicken burger without without it being "feisty"? Or else having 8 words per burger title? Austrian royalty has fewer names than your "Feisty BBQ and Bacon Double Fillet Chicken Burger with Cheese"!"

"Woman getting off the train: it does not count as a knee-length skirt if all the skirt that is below, say, your labia is not opaque!"

"Other woman: if you choose to leave the house wearing a skintight leopard print minidress AND have a belly that sticks out like this _) then it would be a good idea not to scratch your belly in the fashion of a caveman. Sorry, caveperson."

"Look at the way that guy is stooping. His back is curved like an expensive lamp. Either he's slouched his whole life or he's some sort of were-heron."

"No, no, by all means, if I stop to let you pass, please, come to a complete stop in front of me and try to work out which way I'll go by staring down at my shoes, while making little jerks and starts, like an old car full of cheap gas left to idle."

"I've been burnt out from looking at comics today. Well, I only looked at one, but it was enough. What for Warren Ellis DO to make this stuff up? Here's a tip. If the last page is your hero exposed to the vacuum of space as he bleeds out his eyes, vomits out his organs, then has his head implode, lovingly drawn over 6 panels, your book is fucking weird and I don't want it."

"When did it become okay for buskers to bring a dolly full of amplifiers to play Pitt st Mall? It's open air! I want to be able to choose to listen to you, not to have your music combined with whatever tripe the cosmetics counters are blaring to imply it's Milan fashion week to become a great sonic mud so I CAN'T HEAR MYSELF THINK!"

So yes. Today I became an old man. The women were dressed badly and like slatterns, the food was too complicated, the music was too loud, people were too stupid, things were too expensive, and the whole cycle went on and on and on.

I blame this in part on the fact we've been watching Black Books again this week. I was reminded of the Bernard moment post-party:

"It was awful! The music was too loud, the food was cold, the drinks FEW, and the people MANY. It was everything I expected. And LESS."

However, this giddy energy spilled over into, well, giddiness at the bottle shop by our house. We'd grabbed a six-pack and waited what seemed to be ages for someone to come around from the bar and do us the favour of taking our money. I leaned way over to see if someone was coming, and was caught out as someone appeared. A little embarrassed, I babbled after being asked if I needed a bag .

"Yes, I'd like one, please. I've had a few bad experiences where the cardboard of the six-pack gets wet and disintegrates and then, well, tragedy occurs."

"Well, what you need to do is tuck it into your elbow, like holding a football." the woman replied.

"Or like a baby!" piped up Tanja.

"A baby you can open and consume when you get home!" I finished.

We left, in giggles. We further extrapolated on the subject:

T: "Beer is better than a baby too, because, you know, it's useful!"

L: "Well, you don't have to wait 18 years for a beer to be useful."

T: "Oh, come on. 14 should do it."

L: "Fine. Beer is better than a baby because it has a use before the age of 14 as something OTHER than spare parts."

At which point, as they say, the meeting broke up.

We're odd.

Chewie & Han

2011-04-14T15:45:00.000-07:00

Oh, hello. Didn't see you there.

This is "Chewie & Han" by Chris Wahl. I saw it and immediately bought it due to it combining two beloved duos of characters from my mental development. Seems to be a theme with me.

Speaking of Calvin and Hobbes, I saw a tweet from Brian Lynch (@BrianLynch) that got me thinking:

I replied, of course, with a few witticisms that he dutifully did not reply to, such as "I am Spaceman Spiff's Smirking Revenge" and "'Calvin you look like you've been pounced!' 'You fell down some stairs.' 'I fell down some stairs.'"

I've since come up with more:

"The first rule of G.R.O.S.S. is you do not talk about G.R.O.S.S.. The second rule of G.R.O.S.S. is YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT G.R.O.S.S.! Third rules: two guys per treehouse."

"I know this, because Hobbes knows this."

"Yes, these bruises are from being Calvinball. No, I don't want to talk about it."

I then started thinking that I needed images to caption with these comments. So I started looking (I also found this lovely essay comparing Fight Club & Calvin & Hobbes. Check it out).

What started as me changing lines to suit the new setting in a humourous way quickly became me using images from the new setting to extoll the ideas of the original work.

In short, it went from funny and interesting to depressing and self-destructive. Rather like my experience watching/reading Fight Club.

When I saw Fight Club, I was 19. I was initially intrigued by it's punk aesthetic and rebellious nature and the absurdist way the Narrator cut himself off from society. Then the depressing part set in. "Let's burn it all down." the film decried "Everything you ever thought sucks, you're stupid for thinking it, and you'll never be anything!" Or at least that was how my 19-year-old self heard it. Watching it again (and reading the book) at 29, I was happily a bit more detached. I had read more, I had done more, I was in a very different place in my life. I had learned to appreciate things without assimilating their ideas (a tactic I now employ due to my not needing popular culture to tell me who I am and what I think).

So here are the pictures. Watch the progression! Get some popcorn!

And then the change happens.

So yes. Got depressing. I actually stopped myself before it got any further. And this has nothing to do with the fact that I got rejected on the most promising job interview I've had in a while after they strung me along for weeks and got ID and did reference checks and made out like I had the job. Nothing at all. I'm totally not disheartened by the job-seeking process, and not at all horribly worried about my and Tanja's financial state. In no way am I curtailing all happy impulses, saying that I should be serious and buckling down due to the impending badness. Nope. ....and if you believe that, I have a used Death Star to sell you.

Meeting Cool People and Losing Street Cred

2011-04-11T20:54:00.000-07:00

So you know how people can meet famous people and be cool about it and say things like "They were cool, you know, no big thing."?

I am not one of those people. I know this because i just met Ben Templesmith (@Templesmith on Twitter).

I was heading off to my lunch, looking forward to 30 minutes of wandering in circles with my headphones on, when Erin stops me.

"Hey, you know Ben Templesmith is signing stuff at King's Comics today, right?"

*beat*

"Nnnnnnnnooooo..."

"Oh, I assumed you would, you being a huge fan of Wormwood (Wormwood: Gentleman Corpse which I got Erin into last month), you'd know."

"I did not. I shall go now."

"Well, hurry. He's only there for another 30 minutes."

She was shortly talking to a Lucas-shaped cloud of dust. I knew it's usually about 18 minutes to get to King's. I took off so fast that I didn't realise my headphones were playing no music until I was halfway to King's.

I sent off a Tweet on the way:

On the way I passed some protesters or picketers or something. I dutifully took a photo of them and made it into a tiny planet, but did not slow down.

Made it to Kings, and saw him there at the table.

I don't go straight up to him, of course. No, instead I imitate the action of the young man attempting to ask out a girl/rob a bank, I made a full pass around the store, then bought the TPB of Fell (as well as the new Fables for Tanja), chatted with the clerk about how I'd "better buy this before he signs it, ha ha." Then I walked over. The person before me was talking, so I took a moment to leaf through the sketches and art he had for sale. I was fixing to buy one until it occurred to me that the "1600" written on the baggie might not be an in-a-hurry-way to write "$16.00" but might in fact be "$1600.00" and I was afraid to ask. I decided I would go with some colour prints that were clearly labelled "$20". Then it was my turn. I proffered my Fell book, and asked for a print. When he asked for my name, I told him it was Lucas. He brightened: "You're the guy from Twitter! You have purpose!" I would have like to have reacted well. However, being me, I freaked the fuck out. The rest of the time was spent chatting with the lovely lady next to him whose name I did not know (girlfriend? Iunno.) as she noticed I was Canadian and she was from Alaska. Ben pointed out that technically Canadians are Americans, as they are from the continent of North America. I jumped in saying he was technically correct, "the best kind of correct!". Then I left, feeling that I had overplayed my hand a little. I only realised when I was halfway back to work that I had not given him the $20 for the print. So Mr. Templesmith. Ben. I apologise for geeking out all over you. And I will mail you a shiny Australian $20 bill for the print. Sorry I couldn't be cool. You're just too awesome.

Tiki Bar (fuzzy version)

2011-04-10T18:11:00.001-07:00

I forget what day it is. I've also missed a bunch of days, so I'll stop marking the days from here on in.

The letters on this shirt are fuzzy, like felt.

I'm sick. It's Tanja's fault. She was sick last week and is now over it. Then I started sneezing on Saturday. Then my nose started running last night. Now I'm so congested that when I sneeze, it sounds like a sonic boom in my head (complete with Doppler effect).

A misprint in a work letter made me laugh. The various paragraphs outlining our ramp-down said things like "You will be paid out your entitlements" and "You will remain employed up until XX date." and things of that nature. It got to the bit where it expressed condolences for the situation and began with the phrase "You will share in our disappointment with the client's decision." I read it as "You WILL share in our disappointment with the client's decision."

(or else?)

Will I? Or will I just hear that sentence in my head all day as read by The Rock?

Godfather of Gaming

2011-04-05T20:41:00.000-07:00

(technically). Monday, I couldn't be arsed posting, Tuesday, business dress, and now it's Wednesday. This was not going to be a shirt-post, but I couldn't get picture-blogging to work from my phone, so I'm posting from here.

This is one from the TeeFury Grab bag that arrived Monday. I was wearing my business-y clothes for most of today, but when I needed to relax once home, straight into it. It's called The Godfather of Gaming, and it's by Scott Robinson, the same guy who did my Walker This Way shirt.

And now the actual post I was trying to make earlier:

(click if you find my writing too tiny)

testing yet another format.

2011-04-05T19:08:00.001-07:00

https://vr.shapeservices.com/play.php?hash=705c28e8189260227a8cc2e5e9875225353a66058d8f752e5

Just for fun. Recorded at Parramatta station in the rain.

___
Recorded on iPhone and posted with VR+ Lite.
http://vr.shapeservices.com

Democracy: Brought To You By Capitalism!

2011-04-02T20:18:00.000-07:00

Day 23, in which I am hungover. Or, at least, I was. Then I had an omelette with chorizo, potato, spanish onion, capsicum and roast tomato & buttered Turkish toast. Now I feel more human.

Got this in my first TeeFury grab bag. I normally would not have picked so overtly political a shirt, considering that as a foreigner in Australia, I'm not allowed to have an opinion.

By the by, I've worked out all but one of the letters: D: Disney E: Dell M: McDonald's O: Target C: Coca Cola R: Toys 'R' Us A: ??????? C: Cineplex Odeon Y: Subway If anyone can work out the A, let me know.

Artoo's Premium Beer

2011-04-01T23:15:00.000-07:00

Day 22, in which I tried a 3DS and decided that I loved it and that I didn't just want to buy a DSi XL second-hand from eBay.

That one's a TeeFury.

So I started watching The Last Airbender yesterday. Started is the operative word. I have not finished it. I'm not sure I intend to. It's terrible. The acting is hammy, Zuko's scar make-up looks a) too small and B) fake, the casting is way off (not the racial thing that caused waves when it came out, just that these don;t look like anything but modern kids), and the exposition just grinds out.

I think what bothered me most was the seriousness. Every line was delivered like a sentence of death. Now, while Avatar: The Last Airbender (the series) had big sweeping stories and epic battles and prophecy and such, the kids involved were just kids, and acted as such. More on that later.

So after literally 9 minutes (yes, literally, I just checked the timestamp), I turned it off and put on my Avatar: The Last Airbender episodes.

And was immediately struck by how silly and childish the first episode was.

I thought maybe it was just in comparison, but no. There's Aang sliding on a penguin, there's him with his tongue stuck to his staff, there's Sokka getting sneezes on by a Sky Bison (and reacting as any 16-year-old would). In any case, it's different in the later seasons, but a thread of humour still follows.

It was only when I was making dinner that I realised what it was: we need to see these characters happy in order to understand their pain later. It's the same reason we spend 45 minutes with Hobbits in the Shire before we take off to adventure: we need to know what's at stake. The journey Aang takes to become a fully-realised Avatar involves growing up, putting away childish and selfish inpulses and desires and accepting that in war there is real damage, and there are casualties, on both sides.

I'll forgive a few episodes of silly for that.

But the movie still sucks.

Today.

2011-04-01T04:02:00.000-07:00

(Not every post needs a t-shirt picture)

Today I had a day off. I sat around, drank coffee, went shopping at Marrickville to buy stuff to make curried Barramundi with coconut rice, watch a Lost Room episode and most of Tremors 4.

Oh, and I built a lightbox from instructions I found here.

It's a small one, more a proof of concept than anything I could use full-on (hence the off-white shirt, and the fact I used an old hard drive box, my yellow flourescent desk lamp and some printer paper), but it works, and I like it.

To test it, I grabbed whatever the hell I had lying around, which turned out to be various little Transformers (movie Jazz and Ransack), a Mr. Burns (with Booboo), and a pencil sharpener in the shape of a tank with a bent cannon due to Ted swinging it about when he would talk to me at work.

So next week after payday I'll look for some alternate lights and get cracking on a bigger lightbox.

So what did YOU do today?

Dinosaurs! Rar!

2011-04-01T03:56:00.000-07:00

Day 20 was yet another collared shirt and tie day, so no update but today on Day 21, oh-HO, do you get a shirt.

So the job at that bank where I needed to wear corporate attire? The starting time was pushed back this week. Then on Thursday they had a meeting and said that due to a lack of people to train us (?), the roles were being pushed back to maybe (!) late July. The people who started three weeks ago still have jobs, but those of you we randomly selected to start later? Yeah, no. So I'm in the market. Again.

So, my shirt. It's got dinosaurs. And they're fighting. I got this from a Grab Bag at TeeFury last year, so I didn't actually choose it. But I like. And if you don't, well, I don't see any dinosaurs fightin' on YER fuckin' shirt, now do I?

Mic Wars: Jedi Vs Sith

2011-03-30T01:38:00.000-07:00

Day 19. There was no day 18 update due to a lack of t-shirt. I had to wear a collared shirt for an info session with a potential employer, but since I wore it with jeans, people kept referring to me as a cowboy. Nnrgh. Mic Wars, from TeeFury! Kind of hard to read it all. What I love about this shirt is all the detail. Even the medallion on the AT-AT says "Tougher than Blasters" which is a take on Run D.M.C.'s "Tougher Than Leather". More of a view.

It was a nice day today. So I tried to write a note to my boss. Didn't work so well. But it was totally worth a shot.

Also I have more interviews next week. Plot thickens, and that.

Rock N Roll Nerd

2011-03-27T22:11:00.000-07:00

Day 17. Got this at the Tim Minchin show Tanja took me to last night. The show was amazing. I teared up a little during Rock N Roll Nerd (the bit about a guy writing songs that no one will ever hear), and full-on cried my eyes out during Not Perfect. Youtube it, it's phenomenal. I've already written about how one particular part of the song affects me. But last night, it destroyed me. I was just crushed. I've not cried like that in public, well, ever. I mostly blame Tanja and her propensity for crying at movies.

I had a long and in-depth post in my head about how I feel about my body-image, or whatever, and how I feel I play the clown too much because much of my self-worth is tied up in how people like me, but frankly, it's too depressing.

Today is my birthday. The people who work here got me a card and a present and my boss made me a cake. May also baked me two cakes. This is the first time a work-person, let alone many work people, did anything for my birthday. So I'm in a good mood.

Naughty Schoolboy.

2011-03-27T06:03:00.000-07:00

Day 16 (though as it's 12:03am, it's kind of day 17, but that's another post I'm already composing in my head).

There was no actual t-shirt of the day. This morning when I needed to run out and buy cake I wore my Polar Beer shirt, and then because we were going out to dinner at the Belgian Beer Cafe before heading to the opera house for the Tim Minchin show, I thought I'd dress up a bit. But, you see, I still wanted to be cool. So I thought I'd imitate Max Scoville from Destructoid (he tweets here, check him out, we discussed whether or not you can eat Pokemon) in his business casual look:

I wore a nice tie, loosely knotted, with one of my Gap shirts, Levis, my oxblood Doc Martens and a suit jacket I bought at St Vincent De Paul.

Tanja had a.... specific reaction.

Which led to my ditching the tie and jacket.

Stupid fashion.

And yes, I do care what people think about how I look. I probably shouldn't, but I'd be lying if my shaving my head hadn't compounded my worry about looking un-noteworthy, or worse, negatively noteworthy. I am a bundle of insecurities. This should not be news to you.

ED-209: You Have Twenty Seconds To Comply

2011-03-25T20:16:00.000-07:00

Day 15, which is totally being posted on a different day from Day 14. Totally.

Take that Ed Hardy. Though, I suppose Ed Hardy can walk down stairs. (Yeah, it's another TeeFury.)

It's the state election today, something I'm legally not allowed to have an opinion about. Meanwhile, back in the mother country, the government has fallen. Again. This'll make the 4th election in 7 years. The joys of minority government. The election did spark this exchange:

Me: "I'm not allowed to vote. I'm a convicted felon."

Rick: "Felons have to vote in Australia."

Me: "Okay, FINE, I'm a foreigner, you proud of yourself?"

On the health front, I am starting to dread my bed, knowing that about an hour after I get into it, I will be awake and in pain. Valerian root helps, but I know it's chock-full of diminishing returns.

Ludwig Von Beethoven: Metal Legend

2011-03-25T20:10:00.000-07:00

Day 14. Posted late! Late!

So many people don't read this shirt. They just assume it's a random heavy metal band and don't realise it's CLASSICAL. YEAH. CLASSICAL.

So my new job has been postponed. Indefinitely. Or "until further notice", as the official statement goes. I'm doing other interviews, so everything is a little up in the air.

I also realised yesterday the difference between going to a bar on Karaoke night and going to a Karaoke place with rented rooms. That difference being, at the bar? You need to be able to sing. In the room, everyone's just hollering along and it all gets drowned out. In conclusion, I have no voice.

Pac-Man Kill Screen

2011-03-24T03:41:00.000-07:00

Day 13. Unlucky for some.

This is my Pac-Man kill screen shirt (bought from Jinx, it's officially a Jace Hall Show shirt). You should all see King of Kong. Someone asked me if my shirt had a virus. I explained in too much detail. I do that.

All that stuff from the doc and the physio did not help. Still got headache last night. No fun. Also, bruised from the physio. I've taken headache tablets, some valerian root, and my migraine wafer (don't worry, I checked with the chemist, they're non-reactive). Hopefully I'll sleep through the night, as I have an interview tomorrow, and a team outing following that.

You Won't Know What Hit You In The Slightest

2011-03-23T03:41:00.000-07:00

Day 12.

This'll be a shortish post as I've had both a doctor's visit (in which I was cross-examined and given what appeared to be a sobriety test) then a physio visit (in which I was beaten and turned to Silly Putty) all to try and stop the waking-up-with-searing-pain-in-my-head thing. Here's hoping. On an unrelated note, today was such a beautiful day that I drained my iPhone dead taking pictures of buildings, clouds, trees, and occasional people.

Today's shirt is a Scott Pilgrim shirt. Most people get that. But only a few realise that it's a reference to the album "Goo" by Sonic Youth. Those few who notice make me happy.

I Enjoy Drinking Beer.

2011-03-21T18:05:00.001-07:00

Day 11, in which I scribble on a pad.

It's a (Ghost) Trap!

2011-03-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

Day 10, thus beginning the first day of my last week in this job.

A TeeFury, bought ages ago in a joint order with Craig, but I didn't pick it up until yesterday.

This shirt caused a perfect moment. It was noticed by one of my team members, who said words to the effect of "Hey, cool. Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars. But what's he holding?"

I held my breath, then just as the realisation started to dawn, I blurted out:

"IT'S A TRAP!"

Oh how happy I was.

Serenity Saké

2011-03-20T00:28:00.000-07:00

Day 9, in which I am a little worn out from practice and the beer that came with it.

...Not that that would stop me. I pledged, damnit!

Today's shirt is yet another Teefury (sensing a pattern?) by Ian Leino (sensing a pattern?). I saw this and not only bought it, but that day dug out my Firefly episodes and watched them again. And to think? I saw Serenity for the first time, having not seen the series, and hated it. HATED it.

I found that it dumped us too quickly into the world, that I couldn't follow the language (was actively bothered by it, in fact) and that all in all, the film wasn't worth finishing. I blame Ted for forcing the series upon me (and a good thing he did). After a few false starts (sensing a pattern?), I watched it all the way through and fell hard for Firefly (I nearly wrote "fell hard for Nathan Fillion... and his crew"). I convinced Tanja to sit through it (sensing a pattern?), and then watched Serenity again.

And hated it, but for different reasons.

I also loved it, let's get that straight. Basically, now that I loved the crew and the story that I'd gone through with them, I found the re-integration of tension that had long-since been worked out in the series was suddenly back, so we could have some tension in the early going. Simon and Mal are at odds again, Kaylee and Simon are back to will-they-or-won't-they, River's still bugnuts insane without any of her clarity from the later series... I understand why they did it, it just felt fake, like it hadn't been earned. The later story, making the Reavers into a front-line threat instead of a (sorry) phantom menace, Miranda, and River's awakening, all that won me over big-time.

So yeah. That was a thing that happened.

Here's hoping Nathan Fillion (who has one of these shirts, bless 'im) gets to buy the rights and make more Firefly. Also, the comics by Dark Horse are pretty awesome.

Polar Beer Maaaaaaaaaaaalt Liquor

2011-03-19T03:31:00.000-07:00

Day 8, late in the evening.

So this is another Teefury shirt, by the great Ian Leino. It was my second purchase, bought when Tanja and I were watching Lost like nobody's business, before the inevitable burnout mid-season 3. The shirt is crammed full of references, but as I learned, Lost as a show is so dense that very little of it has filtered through into Pop-cultural Osmosis, ie that someone on the street would recognise a reference.

My struggle today has been with my main iTunes playlist. Basically, when I had my 32 gig iPod Touch, I had about 25 gig of it filled with music and the rest with podcasts, TV shows, movies and apps. Then when I got my iPhone (same size), I tried to put the same playlists on. No dice. Not enough room, apparently. So I whittled it down, but then had very little room for other things.

Time passes and I decide before Christmas to clear off the main music list, put a small music list on, and fill the rest with video. This was in preparation for the Christmas break, where we'd be at Tanja's folks' place and I'd be bored. What I didn't expect is that I'd get new CDs during the break, add them to the list, then realise the playlist was too big.

Time passes again. I've got more apps now (4.5 gigs worth) and the list I'm STILL trying to add is 25 gigs. So now I'm trimming songs. The going is is slow, because the more recent tracks I've uploaded are much larger in size (due to my hating compressed sound on my big headphones), and the old songs I'm sick of are 2-3 megabytes. Also, throughout the process, I've been downloading new things, getting new CDs, and (here's the worst bit) taking old CDs and re-ripping them to replace old compressed songs because I want the better quality. It's a Sisyphean task, damnit.

We Interrupt Your Usual Programming..

2011-03-17T18:30:00.001-07:00

....As there is no T-Shirt of the Day. Instead I am dressed corporate to show solidarity to my workmates, who have a meeting with a recruitment agency today. Also, if one of those recruitment folks wants to sling a crazy millionaire job my way, I shall not argue.

See? Look how corporate I look. Not at all revolutionary.

Unless...

Hey, that's better! Now all I need is a slogan.

Perfect!

The Food Chain

2011-03-16T17:40:00.000-07:00

Day 6.

in which several things occur, our hero learns a lesson, a shoe is lost, and zombie dental hygiene is brought into question.

(Well, not really, I just love old fashioned chapter titles that go on and on and make no sense until after you read the chapter).

Though it's a bit difficult to see (the shirt is thin, and wrinkles easily), this is The Zombie Food Chain, from Threadless.
It is one of those shirts that some people pass with a casual glance and others stop me so they can read the entire thing.

It brings to mind, though, a mental meme that has made the rounds of my office various times since I've worked here, each time instigate by myself. The meme unfolds thusly:

You are trapped in a shopping mall with a horde of zombies. You must choose:
A) What weapon would you wield?
B) What person (real or fictional) would you choose as your companion?
C) What song would be blasting over the PA system?

Every choice must be justified and explained to the last detail.

There have been days where the discussion of this has taken my entire morning. It never fails to cheer me up. If I recall correctly, my first choice, when I was initially introduced to the meme by the Totally Rad Show, were as follows:
Serious choices:
a) The laptop-controlled 14.5mm cannon with depleted uranium rounds from the 1997 "The Jackal" film. (allows for precision targeting from a safe distance, and cyclic rate and penetration make for crowd control)
b) River Tam (specifically the more-awakened-ass-kicking-River from Serenity, rather than cowering-mental-crazy-River from Firefly). (She would be the melee-cased front line, while I provided fire-support. Also, she'd look amazing doing it as Summer Glau does.)
c) "In The Hall of the Mountain King" by Apocalyptica (Epic metal cellos, with built in crescendos and solos to underscore moment of awesome)

Silly choices:
a) A comically large sledgehammer (+2 against Zombies)
b) Chris Farley (human cannonball)
c) "It's Raining Men" by The Weather Girls (Yeah.)

Go on. Try it yourself. However, I am not responsible for your lack of productivity.

Who Watches The Empire?

2011-03-16T02:49:00.000-07:00

Day 5! I'm a little late, due to actually having work to do at work (go figure).

I got this shirt which, if you've been living under a bridge, combines the Star Wars Imperial Storm Trooper helmet with the Watchmen logo, from Teefury recently. For once I'm not going to talk about my attachment to the subject matter (which I feel I've discussed enough). Instead, I'll discuss an incident of someone who clearly did not get it.

Tanja and I were having breakfast at a local cafe (Martini, on King st. Try the corn fritters with scrambled eggs, bacon and tomato relish). On the way out, the proprietor, a Greek guy about Tanja's age spotted my shirt.

"I like it, mate, I like it. It's the Star Wars guy, combined with the Ecstasy tablet, combined with BAM! a bullet in the head. It's classic and it's brilliant!"

I wasn't sure how to respond, so i just said "Yeah... right. Can I pay now?"

Whut.

Scott Pilgrim Character Sheet

2011-03-14T20:36:00.000-07:00

As Day 4 finds me going through my desk drawers and finding random things like coaxial cable, bubbles, a Bart Simpson Pez dispenser, and a large amount of notebooks, we continue!

So you've all heard me talk about Scott Pilgrim. I talk about it a lot. The film and the comic. And how I like it. I like it a lot. I will not reiterate all of this, but I will point out one bit from the film that make me crack up on the 5th viewing:
Computer: "You've got mail!"
Scott: "Dude, this thing claims I have mail!"
Wallace: "It's amazing what they can do with technology."
Scott: "Dude, now I'm reading it!"
Wallace: "..."
*I snicker like a little kid*

It's the delivery that I love: completely without irony on Scott's part.

I don't have a picture of my favourite visual gag from the books, which was Wallace telling Scott that he's not to come home that night, just as he steps off the bus... at their home. Scott splutters in outrage, then our eyes stay on Wallace as the bus drives away with an ever-dwindling-Scott calling out such classics as "You suck, surprising no one!", "I had sexual relations with your mother!" and "Your mother was not that good!" until he's a dot yelling into a dot caption.

EDIT: Thanks to Wikiquote, I have the full dialogue:
YOU SUCK, SURPRISING NO-ONE!!!!
If bad was a boot, you'd fit it!!!!
You're a stupid poo-poo head!
I had sexual relations with your mother!!!
Your mother was not that good in bed!
You, sir, are a wicked soul!
I am rubber, you are glue!
...
..
.

Duke of URL.

2011-03-13T18:24:00.000-07:00

Day 3! Whoo-kak!

This is an official Tiki Bar TV shirt, from my third purchase from their lovely store. Tiki Bar TV is single-handedly responsible for engendering my interest in tiki cultural, cocktails, and podcasts in general.

Not bad for a little show that I clicked solely due to the thumbnail of a pretty girl and the "Explicit" tag on iTunes.

Yes, I admit it. I may have been expecting racy content when I subscribed. Sue me. I'm male.

Instead I got a wildly irreverent, smart and extremely funny series.

Initially, though, I was just confused. The episode was "Red Handed" which is fairly steeped in what I laughingly call continuity.

I quickly downloaded every episode I could, and set about turning Fridays into Tiki Fridays at work, a practice which happened every Friday for 16 months, and caused much in the way of shenanigans. Yes. It also gave me practice at cocktail making, meaning that I'm now considered to be okay at it. I've heard.

The show is now on hiatus, and has been for a while, but I consider it to be very special.

Bunnies high!

Adam & Alan & Myf & Spicks & Specks

2011-03-12T15:11:00.001-08:00

Day 2! I am sticking to this self-imposed regime.

So this was one of the merchandised shirts from the Spicks & Specks live show when it toured. I did not go to this show, though I wanted to. Spicks & Specks has, over time, become the only network TV program I watch when it's on. Other than that, I have no appointment viewing in my TV schedule. And, being the sole survivor of that habit, I often miss it when it's on, due to not being in the habit of sitting down at a certain time to view something.

Also, as I have to remind people, this shirt is a pastiche of a Ramones design. I also like Warren Ellis' take on this shirt.

I've chosen it today because we're going to see some of Tanja's friends in Epping for lunch, and as they have children, I've been asked not to wear anything "rude". My shirts aren't rude! Well, most of them aren't. I think the kiddies would have enjoyed the shirt I posted yesterday.

2011-03-11T18:25:00.000-08:00

Thus begins a new trend, spawned by a few things. The main of which is that the campaign in which I have worked for nearly 5 years, has been given notice to shut down as of April 30th. After an initial period of panic (and small moments of despair over various days), I manage to land a job in another campaign in the same company, but it’s for a bank, hosted in a bank building. Which means business attire: no jeans, collared shirts. This poses a conundrum for me and my 5 drawers of meticulously folded t-shirts are persona non grata in my new workplace. So, in celebration of the myriad torso-coverings I have collected, I will be wearing a different shirt each day until the 27th of March (with no repeats, an easy feat), and matching a blog post to it. Such as today.

The Sesame Six
I bought this shirt from TeeFury.com. I bought it for $10. Bargain.

So anywhoo, i bought it because as part of my long and storied history/love affair with comic books (which is a long and complicated Blog post which I’ve been composing in my head for ages now), I stole an trade-paperback of the first four issues of Fantastic Four. Well, I say stole. I brain-stole it, by seeing it at Marc Remedios’ house, and then sitting down and powering through it in one sitting. Apart from some ZeeRusty elements (like the hypnoray) and some silly Idiot Ball behaviours (OMG guys, she’s the INVISIBLE WOMAN. If you look into her SECURE CELL and she’s NOT THERE, don’t OPEN THE DOOR and GO IN, you FUCKING IDIOTS), it was still the basis of what I consider a one-and-done superhero comic to be. My previous exposure involved two non-consecutive issues of Thor (both part of larger storylines that ended in cliffhangers) and a Free Comic Book Day issue of Batman (which was a huge homage to Detective movies which went straight over my 7-year-old-head), so this seemed to be what I had been missing. It was later that year that I started buying (in multiple sections) The Handbook To The Marvel Universe, reasoning that I couldn’t afford to buy all the comics I wanted, I could at least buy something which lots of information (this was pre-wikipedia). Even then I was an information junkie.

So that’s why I bought the shirt.

Pictures.

2011-02-25T23:07:00.001-08:00

Tanja had the non-sarcastically brilliant idea to toddle down to the Museum of Contemporary Art for the Annie Leibovitz exhibition. After queueing for about 15 minutes, we arrived at... a second queue. Then we got in. The photos were amazing, with huge photos covering half the wall, as well as a sort of tunnel that showcased everything she had collected for the show in small scale. On show were all sorts of photos: her portraits of musicians (like the White Stripes, which managed to look both staged and snapped in-the-moment; and Willie Nelson, who resembled nothing more than an Indian Head penny; Iggy Pop, muscular & cadaverous), actors (Al Pacino resembling Napoleon in bare feet; Jim Carrey making faces and roaring at the world), heads of state (The Queen, removed from her usual setting, making her a monarch unadorned & out of time, but a monarch nonetheless; the Bush administration, particularly John Ashcroft (no link, sadly), whose portrait had him off to the side on a white background, with have the set in view, including a secret service agent and an American flag, tucked away like a forgotten heirloom), her partner of many years Susan Sontag (who died of cancer), and perhaps my favourite, many photos of her extended family, particularly elderly folks and children, most candid snaps.

It was extremely crowded. Not "I can't move" crowded, but the more subtle kind of crowded where each time you stopped to read or look at something, you would amass a small collection of people who would hover at your elbow, just behind you, or off to the side, so that when you decided to move again, you'd nearly trip over them, or they'd catch your elbow or something. This stressed me. The stressing was increased by the fact that I had neglected to bring my glasses. Normally, that would not be an issue, my being only a little nearsighted, but all of the writing was small, so I had to get within a few feet of the wall, or I wouldn't be able to read it. Also, through the entire event I was composing this post in my head, and as such wanted to take a quick picture of how crowded it was. I took out my phone in an out of the way corner, as I didn't want to make it look like I was taking photos of the art. I saw a guy with a ponytail glace at me, and I quickly put my phone away. I then noticed that Ponytail had his own iPhone out, and was checking Facebook. "Oh," said I "he must not work here." But no sooner did I take out my camera and snap a quick photo, than he apporached me and told me that no pictures were allowed. I tried to say that I just wanted to show how crowded it was, but he would have none of it. I did get a photo, though not a good one:

So anywho, this exhibit got me thinking. Not thinking; yearning. I yearn to take photos of people again. Candid photos, staged photos, whatever. I want to be able to capture the look on someone's face; the intent in their eyes. I want to photograph them, warts and all. It's the same kind of feeling I got after I got my Flip video camera, and realised that the easiest way to get people to not act naturally, was to point a camera at them. No one will let me. Not at all. I content myself with taking quick snaps on my phone, but really, I'm filling up on bread, and it's starting not to satisfy me. I've ruminated on this subject before. But it still bothers me. I think I may have put my finger on a portion of what bugs me today.

When someone takes a photo of me, be it one where I look good, or one where I look bad, I know it is a photo of me. It may not be a photo I like, but it is an accurate representation of how I look from that particular angle at the specific moment. It's true. People who give the "Oh, I look stupid in that one/all those photos" are implying that the photo is somehow a lie or a trick, imposed by the photographer to ruin their self-image, and the image held by others. Maybe Facebook is to blame, what with the ability to untag photos so only you get to choose what appears when someone searches you.

However, telling someone, especially a female someone, when they say "Oh, that's a terrible photo!" that "Hey, that's how you looked like in that moment." does not help.

Rudie Can't Fail

2011-02-25T21:29:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been listening to The Clash more than usual. This is partially due to my showing Strummer: The Future is Unwritten to Tanja, and partially due to the fact that I've restricted the music on my ipod thanks to my playlist growing too large for it. Rudie Can't Fail is one of my favourite Clash songs, as it's cheerful, easy to sing along to, and has a happy vibe which befits sunny Australian afternoons.

Or so I thought.

I googled the lyrics on my way to the store because I wanted to send out a tweet with what was in my head on a loop and didn't want to get the words wrong. When I had a read all the way through, this is what I found.

The lyrics describe a young man being harassed by an Unnamed Someone for being, essentially, an angry young punk wasting his life drinking and generally wrecking up the place. The young man replies that he knows his life prevokes the Unnamed Someone by its very existence, but that he was born without knowledge of who he should be or his place in the world. In the bridge, (I think it's a bridge), the young man explains that he dislikes his lack of purpose, and went out looking for a Way to follow to fill his void. The world gave him back anger and pain initially, then instructions to "curb his temper" and "find a job in the paper", and go to church and "find a saviour", essentially curbing his questioning spirit, in order to make fewer waves. His response?

I reject your reality, and substitute my own.

I will be angry, and rude, and drink in the morning, and be provocative, until you give me a better answer. The track ends with the young man calling out random insults to the Unnamed Someone, calling out his pork pie hat and "chicken skin suit", which is both his outfit and his cowardice.

So yeah. Nice sunny happy song, right?

That Which In The Doing Takes Longer

2011-02-16T01:47:00.001-08:00

I had something composed in my head that was long and impassioned, explaining how, using an example I saw on the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, I was raised free of racism, by pointing out that it took that episode subverting a racist, stereotyped act (that a black man driving a nice car in LA will get pulled over and potentially jailed) for me to know that the act existed at all.

But really, even finding a way to explain it like I just did took long enough that I don't feel like doing the long version.

Oh, and I'm on major antibiotics for my illness. 2 pills, 4 times a day, for 7 days. Bad news? I can't friggin' drink while I'm taking them.

Daydream Believer

2011-02-12T15:25:00.000-08:00

(yes, I just named a post after a Monkees song)

So I'm still sick, though things have changed a little.

1) I got a doctor on Friday who actually listened to and examined me (who happily agreed with my opinion that the previous guy was a quack), took blood and... other samples and sent them off to be tested. She was extremely worried by how long this virus had been hanging on, and also by the fact that I had walked up to Broadway with a 39.5 degree fever. In the sun. Without a hat or sunnies. Dumbass. Now, we don't have a thermometer at home, nor do I really know what my temperature should be. Only by using Google and a little math did I realise that, as it's the equivalent of 103 degrees Fahrenheit, 39.4 is the threshold when you should seek medical attention for fever. Oops. All I remember is that Bret Hart once wrestled for his Intercontinental Championship against the Mountie with a 103 degree fever.

He DID lose that match, though.

So anyway, the good doctor said she'd call me with test results and that I had to chill out and monitor my diet in the meantime. Also I needed to get a thermometer.

And 2) (And apologies if this is a bit squicky), my illness has changed to the point that instead of chills, I now have to visit the bathroom 15-20 times per day. Yeah. Do the math. This has resulted in my drastically reducing what I eat out of self-preservation, which has resulted in an overall loss of energy (I'm fine moving around the house, but take me outside and I start shaking and spooking at shadows within 15 minutes). Tanja (who had IBS when she was a kid) recommended I fast for a day. Not liking this idea, I did some research, on INTERNET. Turns out I should be eating cooked or tinned fruit, Greek yogurt with active cultures, dry cooked rice or pasta, tea, toast, and especially applesauce. Bananas too, but I hate bananas. Yesterday was the first day of that diet (after two days of surviving on 1 or 2 pieces of bread and peanut butter per day), and my god, was I glad to have food again. Tanja even whipped up a pasta dish with plain pasta, chicken breast grilled without oil, yogurt and basil leaves. I fell upon it like a hyena. Hopefully the new diet'll kick in soon.

So why'd I name the post "Daydream Believer"?

Because since the first day I've been limited (that'd be Wednesday, when the cramps and fever were too strong for me to do anything but nibble bread) I've been daydreaming about food.

And I don't mean, leaning back and going "Man, I'd sure like a cheeseburger." I mean, I'll be reading or doing something else, and a vision of food will crowbar it's way into my head and take over my entire brain, to the point where my mouth starts to water. I'm talking serious mental-food-porn description. Most recent ones have been a particular almond-and-apricot-custard tart that Caketown used to make before they went on vacation, and oddly enough, sliced pepperoni with cheese and crackers. I told Tanja about the pepperoni, and she said "What, like on pizza?". Then i couldn't stop thinking about pizza. Thanks, hon.

Yeah. It's like that.

I have been restricting my diet for a little less than a week. Admittedly, it helps that I don't feel hunger anymore (at all) due to the cramps masking the hunger pangs, but my GOD how do vegans and gluten-free people and kosher folks DO IT? Admitted, though, with them it's a choice, made from willpower, as opposed to an option taken in weakness. So perhaps I need to adopt a more philosophical bent and get in touch with my inner Chi and all that.

However, on Thursday night, Tanja ate a fragrant massaman roast beef curry with rice and a Peroni right in front of me and I wanted to die. That sort of thing fucks with my Zen.

Oh, and...

2011-02-09T02:34:00.000-08:00

I cut my hair. Like a lot. Nearly shaved my head, in fact. I consider it a first step towards not being so damned insecure about myself. It's hair. It'll grow back.

For those missing the old looks, I'll let you know that if you beat this blog on Hardcore mode and only save 3 times, you unlock Britpop Lucas and Oasis Lucas as new costumes. The Big Lebowski Dude-Sawyer-From-Lost PonyTail Lucas was going to be available, but had to be cut due to issues with the physics engine.

Also, I've been reading the Dresden Files. You should too. It's epic.

Quack.

2011-02-09T02:25:00.001-08:00

So I've been sick the last two days. I came home with a head and body ache, and was running a fever before bedtime. I spent the first two hours in bed shivering uncontrollably (not little winter-shivers either, full-body muscle spasms). When the shivering let up, I went towards the bathroom, got nauseous and blacked out (would have hit the floor if I hadn't caught the door) then slept maybe a couple hours before waking up at 5am. Still sick, but less feverish, back to nausea and body-aches. I call in sick and go to the doctor in Marrickville due to being scared stupid by the evening I had just spent.

Got in to see the doctor. I explained it to him, and he looked at the back of my throat and made a face. An "ugh!" face. Then he asked if I was a smoker (what?). I said no. So he then let the matter drop (what?! What if I had said yes?). He asked whether I could have a few days off work, I said yes, he wrote the certificate, stamped it, and handed it to me and showed me the door. I asked if I should take anything, and he said just painkillers and rest.

When I got out, I looked at the sheet. He had said the cause of my absence was URTI. I puzzled over that for a moment before realising it meant "Upper Respiratory Tract Infection". You know, in your nose, lungs and throat. So coughing, sneezing, runny nose, sinus pain, NONE OF WHICH I HAVE.

So I'm here now, in the evening, feeling the fever heat up again (seems that this time I get the "too-hot-unreasonably" night as opposed to the "too-old-despite-blankets" night). And I'm angry, damnit.

Large Day Exterior

2011-01-28T03:55:00.000-08:00

....I just deleted the post full of Big Day Out pictures and stuff. I got about halfway through struggling with the formatting and I realised that no one cares all that much. Either you know the bands and like them, in which case I'm telling you nothing new, or you don't know them and probably won't listen to them, in which case I'm wasting my breath.

Maybe I'll try again later.

2011-01-02T23:22:00.000-08:00

Things I hate that everyone loves.

Cocker spaniels
Preacher
Traffic
Red Dwarf
Olives
Assassin's Creed
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Gran Turismo (or really any racing game where you can't take out the competition)
Motion Control Games
People who constantly feel the need to one-up anything you say in conversation, often to the detriment of what the conversation was about.

...damnit, I had at least 8 more that I suddenly can't remember.

Legacies

2010-12-28T04:24:00.000-08:00

**Warning: Spoilers for Tron: Legacy**

**I pretty much talk about the movie here**

*You have been warned.**

So anywho, i came to Tron late, having not seen the whole film until late last year, then immediately watching the Rifftrax for it, thus securing that I shall never take it seriously ever again.

So I saw Tron: Legacy tonight. And something bothered me.

It was not the 3D, which was fairly slick though seemingly unnecessary in some scenes (I took my glasses off for the conversation on the Solar Sailor, and the cinematography looked far better in 2D).

It was not the whole "putting on the Reich" scene where the bad guy speechifies to amassed troops in a very Nazi way (we'll play a drinking game later).

It's not the bad Final-Fantasy-Spirits-Within-style de-aging of Jeff Bridges.

It was not that the aforementioned Solar Sailor scene stopped the plot dead in its tracks for 30 minutes (the original did that too).

It's the casual murder.

"But wait, Lucas!" you declaim. "This is a Disney film. Surely they'll never SAY die!"

Well, they say de-rezzed, so allow me to explain my issue.

The Tron world is peopled by Programs, who look and act human and are essentially people, and Users, who are humans.

In the original Tron, Flynn is put into the Deadly Discs contest (and later, the lightcycle fight) where he must battle for his life in a kill-or-be-killed situation. Even then, it takes a few attacks on him for him to finally fight back against the human-looking program and defeat him. When asked to finish the job and de-rezz the opponent, he is horrified and refuses to kill for the whim of an overlord. Later, in the lightcycle fight, he does fight back by surviveing, and the nature of the contest spells doom for his opponents.

In Tron: Legacy, Sam Flynn is digitised into the Grid and selected for the games. He's put into the Deadly Discs scenario. He avoids the first few attacks, then sees in the next court that the disc can kill. He immediately launches his disc with intent to kill. It doesn't work at first, and the match becomes heated, with Sam finally de-rezzing his opponent with disc-through chest. He's almost immediately put into the next match. He kills his opponent quickly and uses the extra time to look for a way out.

Wait, what? This guy's been dropped into a computer world for 5 minutes and he's already killing people stylishly and without remorse? And that's just in the games. Once he's on the run, he's blasting those Orange guard programs left and right, sending the digital chips flying.

"But wait, Lucas!" you declaim anew. "Those programs he's killing are Orange Guys. Orange guys are bad guys, just drones. Surely it's okay to de-rezz them!"

Wrong again. Late in the film it's shown that not all captured blue guy Programs are sent to the games. Some are sent to "Rectification camps*" in boxcars**, where they're force-marched*** into glowing orange boxes that look like ovens****, and come out as perfect goose-stepping*****-in-formation Orange Guys.

So allow me to clarify: HE'S GLEEFULLY KILLING BRAINWASHED-AGAINST-THEIR-WILL INNOCENT PEOPLE.

The Big Bad of the film, Clu, is shown as an Authority-Equals-Asskicking dictator, who's destroyed an entire race within the grid because they didn't fit his ideal of perfection******. This is to make sure to point out to those of us still playing the home game, that this mook is a complete monster.

So how do we defeat this monster?

***last warning, major plot spoilers here zomg***

In order to get his son and Token Girly out safely, Flynn uses his physical god powers (which really would have been useful in the big fight) to hold back Clu, then Force-pull him in and reabsorb him, causing a massive energy release that destroys them both and the entire city.

Let me repeat that. THE ENTIRE CITY IS WIPED OUT.

That means every program, good or bad, is dead. That's genocide. And he's the good guy.

I couldn't believe it.

Disney, ladies and gents. You know, for kids!

* DRINK!
** DRINK!
*** DRI*hic*NK!
**** DRINK!
***** DRINK!
****** DRINK! Whoa. I gotta sit down.

I will do you a favour.

2010-12-28T03:51:00.000-08:00

I shall recommend you go and download (for free) Super Crate Box. It recently won Free Indie of the Year (on Bytejacker) and it has casuall sucked up about an hour of my time today without even trying. It's basically a metroid-style platformer, but you're confined to one room. Your little dude has to run around collecting crates, each of which gives him a weapon upgrade. Problem is, it's a randomised weapon upgrade (so you might trade a bazooka for a weak-ass pistol), the enemies you don't kill get faster and angrier, and even if you sit and plug away at the enemies, you don't advance to the next level until you get a certain number of crates without dying.

It's addictive. Play it.

This is the link.

2010-12-27T00:07:00.000-08:00

It sounds really silly, but it makes me happy when people mention things that I've written in my blog (well, people who aren't people that I've forced into reading it, anyway)

To show my joy, here is a gif of Scott Pilgrim rocking out.

Machine of Death: HA!

2010-12-10T03:03:00.000-08:00

I'm reading this book on my Kindle:
"Machine of Death: A Collection of Stories About People Who Know How They Will Die"
Here is it's Amazon listing.
Here is it's website.
It's about people who go to a machine which pricks their finger and then tells them the exact method of their death (but not time or details. Like "Almond" or "Car Crash").
Some of the stories are ironic, some are Twilight-Zone-Dark, a few are worrying, and one so far touching.

But this one made me laugh out loud the moment I turned my Kindle-page.

(Oh, FYI, the titles of each story is one of the causes of death mentioned, most, but not all, being the cause of death of the main character.)

I present it here, in full:

HAHAHA. Ah ha.

The Pusher.

2010-12-09T03:25:00.000-08:00

I'm sick of having interests that are diverse and oddball enough that when I get a reaction to something, I can't talk about it unless I force that thing onto them and then press them for a conversation.

I first felt this feeling after going to see My Disco with Ted. I name dropped the band at work to local metal/odd-ball music people that I talk to and no one knew it. I assumed that, as it was one of Ted's bands, it'd be known to people who like Teddish tunes like Godspeed You Black Emperor and such. The one person who seemed interested recieved a burned CD from me and he didn't like it.

It's similar to when I try to talk about Scott Pilgrim to some people and they go "Oh, yeah, I read that." and I gush and start talking about the fact that I love it. And the person goes "Yeah, it was okay. I just read the first one." Argh.

I'm not saying people shouldn't have their own opinions, far from it. I just wish that sometimes those opinions would match or at least be nearish to mine without my having to forcefeed them to people.

So anyway.

I was disappointed with the last trade of Ex Machina. It was the series conclusion and it was unsatisfying.

If you don't know Ex Machina, I am not the least bit surprised.

It would not be worth my explaining the premise or anything. I probably wouldn't convince you to try it. Even then, you might hate it.

edit: That being said, in the last month I've had two great conversations, one with a guy at work, and one with my boss, about my love of insects, and nature in general (which lead to the loaning of Bill Fitzhugh's "Pest Control" to Joe, and Rick's highly recommending Attenborough's Planet Earth to me. So I could easily be full of shit.

2010-11-28T01:58:00.000-08:00

I don't think I've ever found the solution to a problem I've been having with my computer by looking online.

Lately I've had an issue on Windows Vista where anytime I rename or delete a file, the script showing "deleting" will hang on the screen after the file is gone. I'll hit cancel, and it'll sit "canceling" forever until i use task manager to close it.

I've trawled forums, I've streamlined my start-up processes, I've found no answers. One forum suggested that it was a search indexing fuction that was causing it, but when I located and stopped that process it did get rid of the script, but the next time I edit something it hangs again. Occasionally it'll affect iTunes when I'm transferring purchases back to the PC, cause that to freeze. Finally, it'll affect my Windows Movie Maker in that if I save a project and open it to edit again, the program will freeze as soon as the project is open.

Yesterday i spent 2 hours editing together video footage for a project. I saved it, but left the computer running overnight. Today, while I was at work, Tanja wanted to edit some of her iTunes playlists, but noticed the computer was running slowly, so she saved what was open and restarted. Later this evening when I tried to check on the project I had saved? Couldn't open it.

I don't even get mad anymore. I just sort of sigh. Things will fail, and no one can fix them.

This is about the feeling you get, you know, like when you're the smallest doll in a babushka doll.

2010-11-25T13:23:00.001-08:00

This kind of got me a little bit. Just a bit. Sniff.

Stick around for the 4th verse.

For those who are impatient, this is the 4th verse:
This is my body
And I live in it
It's twenty-nine and twelve months old
It's changed a lot since it was new
It's done stuff it wasn't built to do
I often try to fill it up with wine
And the weirdest thing about it is
I spend so much time hating it
But it never says a bad word about me

This is my body
And it's fine
It's where I spend the vast majority of my time
It's not perfect, but it's mine
It's not perfect

*sniff*

I'm being good.

2010-11-21T03:00:00.000-08:00

Want to know how good I'm being?

This is how good:

I have on my bedside table the latest Robert Jordan/Brendan Sanderson Wheel of Time book, the latest volume of Empowered, the two Bone prequels/sequels, a compendium of Hopeless Savages, plus a couple of miscellaneous graphic novels & comics, and a book on the nature of jokes and humour.

On my Kindle I have the latest Terry Pratchett Tiffany Aching book, Robert Rankin's latest Brentford book, a collection of short stories of people who know the exact method of their death but not the time (by a slew of webcomic authors), about 30 Neil Gaiman short stories, the entire Dresden Files series, and all but one of Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next series.

In the spare bedroom I have the last 4 months of The Word magazine.

I am not reading any of these things. I am reading my wife's draft of her novel on my Kindle. Because she asked me to.

You bet I'm good.

Now the game is on the other foot.

2010-11-20T23:54:00.000-08:00

So I've finished Bioshock 2. Don't worry, gentle reader, I'm not going to do another "Lucas goes in-depth in pros and cons of a game" post. It's just that while I was playing Bioshock 2, I told myself that I'm not going to even look at other games until I finished it. So as Dead Rising 2, Fallout: New Vegas and other new and shiny titles went by, I stuck with it. Now that it's finished, and I'm done with that universe, I can play other. But I have to buy others first. In the meantime, I popped Borderlands back in.

And had zero fun. I'm a god-like level 61 with no missions left. Sure, there's the new Claptrap DLC, but meh. I was running around shooting Spiderants when it hit me why I wasn't liking this game I got so many hours of joy from: There's no meaning. Nearly every action in both Bioshock games meant SOMEthing later on: whether you harvest or rescue little sisters, what you spent your money and Adam or, what Plasmids you outfitted, every audiotape you listened to... whereas the complete open world freedom of Borderlands is without meaning. Nothing I do has any impact.

Also, the Bioshock "change weapon" button is the Borderlands "throw grenade button." Stupid muscle memory

Return To Rapture

2010-11-02T03:59:00.000-07:00

So I finished Bioshock this week. I looked about for some sort of celebratory dance to do, but it seems none have yet been invented. As I mentioned in this post here, the game initially frustrated me. However, I can go down my list of gripes nearly point for point and say that nearly all of them are vindicated by later gameplay. It seemed to be one of those games that got way easier as you went along.

So I thought I would give Bioshock 2 another go, after Rage-Quitting due to lack of fun all those months ago. I like it much better now. It plays very much like the first game, but have streamlined a few things, and needlessly complicated others. Hacking, instead of being a pipe-based puzzle, is now a swinging needle you need to stop in the right place, and can be done remotely with a dart. Security robots are not the incredibly persistent little buggers they were, only doing one sweep before leaving. The initial guns are fun and powerful (a rivet-gun instead of a pistol, a gatling cannon instead of a tommy gun) and the enemies come at you in droves. The rivet gun has a trap feature that is like the crossbow in the first game, but you can deactivate the traps (and it's the first gun you get, as opposed to the last). As for the complications... your main weapon is a spinning drill instead of a wrench. Drills need fuel. Feh. Remote hacking needs darts, but happily you can just walk up and do it the old fashioned way, hand to motherboard. So I'm optimistic. So optimistic that I didn't even need to point-form this list.

So there you go.