tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296682562024-03-14T02:10:27.793-07:00Peace, Love, and Star TrekA forum in which I review new releases as well as write some satire and perhaps some other stuff, too. Also contains a compromising back-log of my pubescent evolution, as I pondered what a kagina was.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.comBlogger140125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-50267612554001355552012-01-22T15:31:00.000-08:002012-01-22T16:04:06.934-08:00Parks and Recreation, "Campaign Ad"<b>Season 4, Episode 12<br />January 19th, 2012</b><br /><br /><img src="http://cf.badassdigest.com/_uploads/images/17992/paul_rudd__span.jpg" alt="My dad made them!"/><br /><b>Rating: 8.0/10</b><br /><a href="http://www.hulu.com/watch/320370/parks-and-recreation-campaign-ad">Watch this episode on Hulu Plus.</a><br /><br /><br /><br />Sexual tension between characters in Parks and Recreation is like sexual tension between your friends- You can't wait until they shut up and screw. Shutting up being the important part. After putzing along for the back half of season three, harping on the supposed impossibility of Ben and Leslie's relationship, then resolving it only to reopen the can of worms immediately in season four, the writers finally let the two get together and now the show can, at long last, move on. <br />I've never been partial to so-called "heart" in comedies, as I tend to like my humor a little dark, but once P&R stops playing the will-they-or-won't-they game (of course they will), the show is terrific at mining laughs from the altered social roles. Specifically I'm thinking of Leslie's "Barack Obama said 'Yes we can!' and now he's the president of the United States. Ben Wyatt said 'No we can't' and now he's working for his girlfriend.' <br />This willingness on the writers' part to allow the status quo to evolve is one of the factors that constantly impresses me about the series. As much as I complain about the doting on relationship strife, it must be admitted that the writers don't milk those relationships for a frustratingly long time, as The Office did with Jim and Pam for three seasons, or as they're desperately trying to recapture with the thoroughly uninteresting Andy and Erin. Andy and April's marriage, Ben moving in with them, and Tom's departure to Entertainment 720 have all been pleasant surprises. This sort of organic evolution makes Parks and Rec feel more real than other sitcoms, which are content to convince us that an ensemble cast will remain in the exact same situation for 7+ years. <br />That appreciation in mind, I truly hope that the plot in which Chris attempts to replace Ben with Ron is explored. Nick Offerman and Rob Lowe have a great on-screen chemistry which has, to this point, been largely unexplored. I loved the continuity in Ron's attempt to block Chris out of his office with the automatic door remote that Leslie gave him for Christmas. His muffled frustration when Chris got in just in time was palpable. <br />I've gone on a while now without mentioning Paul Rudd. There's always a danger bringing a big actor onto a quaint show like this, in that the guest star can be too much of a distraction. Rudd, however, has such an unassuming (and in this case, moronic) everyman quality to him that I found him to be an outstanding addition to this episode. His entire performance was so monochromatically self-entitled; I noticed upon rewatching that as he takes the podium in the cold open he says "Thanks, guy!" with boyish glee to the campaign speaker who introduced him. Of course Bobby Newport doesn't know the names of his own campaign (Sorry, campleasure) staff. I really look forward to watching this character in future episodes.<br />Speaking of which, I found the campleasure moment to be out of character for Leslie. She cringes as if she recognizes just how terrible a joke Newport just made, but it's just the sort of terrible pun I could see Leslie herself making while onlookers grimaced. By the end of the episode, Bobby Newport seems like such a bonehead that he's probably capable of much worse quips. <br />Unfortunately that wasn't the only out of character moment of the night. Let me just take a moment to ask: What has happened to Tom Haverford? Ever since the episode where he had to come to terms with being back in the Parks department, he's been either absent or forgettable, and tonight he was peculiarly un-Tom. His entire theory about kissing up to Leslie and Ben (because he bets on every horse) lacked motivation. In the past Tom has always been extremely candid, even rude to his superiors. Why was he holding back now? I would expect the Tom of the past to be the first person to shoot down Leslie's abysmal campaign ad, for example.<br />The reason his kiss-ass approach is so out of the blue is that for him nothing is actually at stake. No matter whose campaign video wins, he still has the same role at the office and in the campaign. If there had actually been some sort of significant power struggle occurring I could understand Tom taking care not to curry favor with the wrong party, but this plot felt extraneous, as if the writers had no idea what to do with Tom. This is a shame, because Aziz Ansari has been such a dependable player in the past. <br />By far my favorite scene of the episode- and probably my favorite scene in a while- was the Jerry/Ben/Tom scene where they practiced the voice acting for the slam ad. This sort of shameless silliness is what Parks and Rec thrives on, and where it really shines. <br />Overall a very solid episode. The campaign looks as if it will prove to be a great ongoing plotline. I wonder- Does P&R's aforementioned penchant for character evolution allow for the possibility of Leslie being elected city counselman? Maybe season 5 (hoepfully there will be a Season 5) will feature all of these characters in a new office? This would be a great way to introduce some new characters and really shake things up. It would also allow for an interesting new dynamic in which Leslie is Ron and Chris' superior. Let's see some balls, writers.<br /><br />Stray thoughts:<br /><br />- I loved the look on the campaign security guy's face when Bobby asked "I'm running unopposed, aren't I?"<br /><br />-Andy worries about eating a Twix wrapper and then never seeing it come out the other end. As a fecal expert, I don't think he has anything to worry about. It could have been broken into segments or completely concealed. Someone should tell him. <br /><br />-Jerry takes a lot of flak this week after having secured a pretty substantial crowd at last week's ice rink presentation. Cut the guy a break.<br /><br />-Pretty disappointing Andy/April plot this week.<br /><br />- I spent a good 10 minutes pausing hulu and copying down all of the things Leslie Knope approves of. <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/jpmoore/the-117-things-that-leslie-knopes-campaign-ad-say">I should have known that the folks at Buzzfeed would save me the trouble.</a> Here are some of the highlights:<br /><br />Better Better Business Bureau<br />Fewer Libraries <br />Shutting Down the Child Left Behind Act<br />One police officer for every 5 citizens<br />One park ranger for every 10,000 raccoons<br />One school for every student<br />Regulate height of trampolines<br />Memorial for those lost in the trampoline "incident"<br /><br />"Fewer Libraries" is a pretty terrific slam aimed at Tammy 2, the evil librarian.<br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Ct66uQDgN7U?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-54982894501518562622012-01-20T07:41:00.001-08:002012-01-20T16:51:19.468-08:00Best Albums of 2011 (Part 2 of 2)<img src="http://img.thesun.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01281/thom-682_1281393a.jpg" alt="Thom Yorke hands out newspapers to announce album release"/><br /><br />Sorry to keep you two readers on the edge of your seat for a couple days. Here's my top four albums of 2011.<br /><br /><b>#4- Radiohead, "The King of Limbs" (Ticker Tape Ltd)</b><br /><br /><img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/2/24/The_king_of_limbs.jpg/220px-The_king_of_limbs.jpg" alt="The King of Limbs"/><br /><br />If Radiohead has proved one thing over the second half of their twenty year career, it's that they don't give a fuck what their audience thinks. After garnering a large following in the '90s thanks to the post-grunge hits "Creep", "High and Dry", "Just", and "Karma Police" (among others), Thom Yorke and his posse took a drastic 180 with 2000's extremely experimental "Kid A" and never looked back.<br />This caused quite a remarkable response; "Kid A" and it's two successors were critically shrugged off and openly reviled by longtime fans, but sales were through the roof. Indeed, Radiohead is often referenced as one of the most capable and groundbreaking bands in current music, despite the fact that you'd be hard pressed to find a glowing review of any their albums since "OK Computer" back in 1997. Why is this?<br />A few years ago I ran across <a href="http://www.theonion.com/articles/bill-gates-finally-getting-into-radioheads-kid-a,3302/"> this Onion article</a> from 2001. To some Onion reader who hadn't gone through this gritty process of getting to know a Radiohead album, I'm sure this blurb was completely unentertaining. For the several hundred thousand people who bought "Kid" upon its release only to groan and put it aside, it was a frank documentation of their own first year with the album.<br />Radiohead albums are like the Stanley Kubrick films of their generation and media, in that they not only go unappreciated for a time after their release, but also inspire disgust. In the initial <a href=" http://www.rollingstone.com/music/albumreviews/kid-a-20001012">Rolling Stone review</a> of the album, journalist David Fricke, though more appreciative of the release than many of his colleagues, still accredits it some monumental faults. "This is pop? Radiohead are a rock band", Fricke scowls. He concludes, "There are times...when the record seems absolutely airless, entombed in chrome." An unflattering assessment indeed. Yet eight years later, what album should find itself in the <a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/music/lists/100-best-albums-of-the-2000s-20110718/radiohead-kid-a-19691231"> #1 spot</a> on Rolling Stone's albums of the decade?<br />It baffles me, then, that audiences continue to shrug aside new Radiohead releases like this year's "The King of Limbs". Mocking the release for its brevity (8 tracks clocking in at just over 37 minutes) and its minimalism, you'd think this group's fanbase would have learned by now.<br />When I first heard the album, I will admit to feeling underwhelmed. In fact, the album made me feel nothing. At the time I was doing some diving in the beautiful Seychelles, and "Limbs"' empty beats and shameless repetition did not exactly jive with my easy-living tropical state of mind. <br />I was lucky enough, however, to be surrounded by Brits at the time. I haven't officially checked, but I'm fairly sure that Radiohead fandom is a prerequisite for British citizenship. Due to their persistence to get to know the album, I was able to come around to it, and now it's probably in my top 3 Radiohead releases.<br />The approach of the album is to reveal melodies and beats slowly through repetition. In this release, every song is a pyramid song (and I mean that in a structural context, not in allusion to the Amnesiac single), coyly revealing its juicy bits sparingly. As with any Radiohead album, your appreciation for it will likely not set in during a listen. Rather, you walk away from it, flustered after not uncovering its secrets on listen number five or six, and you'll find when you're away that the songs have gotten under your skin, and you need to go back. <br />Amidst the small amount of listeners who have embraced the album there is a divide, as well. Many people believe that one half of the album is superior to the other- The first half, full of some of the band's most experimental tracks, is certainly a fairly inaccessible access point. For me, however, it is far superior to the album's back half, which while brilliant seems to be trying to recreate the seductive ambience of "In Rainbows", a futile act. <br />Where "Limbs" really shines through is its altered subject matter. An early reviewer of the album noted that "the angst is gone", and that absence is what makes the album such a pleasant listen. For the first time in twenty years, the songs lack an undecurrent of depressive thought, and instead are more aesthetically dedicated. It's a refreshing change as a listener, as the album is proof that Radiohead is still capable of fruitful, dramatic evolution. <br />This has been an atypical review, in that I have not mentioned a single song off of the album specifically. That is really the way a Radiohead album should be observed. More so than most other bands, Radiohead's albums are flowing, coherent, and interdependent pieces. Having likely already heard "Lotus Flower" and seen Thom Yorke dancing like he's having a seizure, you've drawn your own conclusions. However, with this band, a song is anything but representative of the work from which it derives. <br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cfOa1a8hYP8?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe><br /><br /><b>Essential Tracks: Wait, didn't you hear what I just said?</b><br /><br /><br /><br /><b>#3- Bon Iver, "Bon Iver"...Bon Iver? (Jagjaguwar)</b><br /><br /><img src="http://minnesota.publicradio.org/collections/special/columns/state-of-the-arts/Bon-Iver-Album-Cover1.jpg" alt="Bon Iver, Bon Iver, Bon fucking Iver"/><br /><br />DC or Marvel should make a graphic novel series in which Justin Vernon is the hipster superhero. The man started out with a mysterious origin story: Armed only with a guitar and some books, Vernon retreated to a remote cabin in the deep freeze of Wisconsin for months on end. When he emerged, he boasted a thick beard, an earthy lifestyle, and some beautiful recordings. These recordings would soon become his celebrated album, "For Emma, Forever Ago".<br />His newfound superpower after his return was the ability to spread the hipsterdom, despite not being a particularly pretentious or clean-living individual himself. The man was more of a carrier of the hipster disease, able to spread it effortlessly without necessarily succumbing to it himself. Vernon has stated many times that his sojourn in the Wisconsin winter was not as romanticized as the Bon Iver myth would have you believe. He had electricity, he used the phone, he went on the internet from time to time. But the hipster population of the world sees what they want to, and continue to interpret his lifestyle as some sort of statement, instead of assuming that a man can go to a wintry cabin simply because it's a pleasant place to be.<br />The word "masterpiece" was bandied around a lot (too much) when "Emma" came out. Like most cinematic superheroes, however, Vernon's second outing blew his first out of the water. His eponymous release (double-eponymous?) is his Dark Knight, his Spider Man 2, to "Emma"'s Batman Begins/Spider Man 1. In his first album, Vernon established an identity with a very basic, if entrancing sound. In the years that followed, hipsters the world round tried desperately to emulate his simple yet delightful formula, to mixed effects.<br />As if to stay ahead of the crowd, Vernon has expanded his repertoire greatly in his second effort, incorporating a supporting band which not only backs him up, but which he relies on heavily in many songs. <br />There are moments that mirror the gentle simplicity of his first album. "Holocene", for one, sounds as if it could have been ripped straight off of "Emma". Even so, "Holocene" would have been one of the best, if not the best track off of that album had it been present. In the rare moments where Vernon does step backwards, his stylistically similar material is structurally and melodically superior to his past work. <br />The best track on the album, "Towers", dips into a childhood nostalgia for summer days and youthful daydreams. Really, the entire album is about daydreams and fantasy, each track named after a place Vernon holds dear to him, or of a place he dreams of someday going. The opener "Perth" has a gentle melody which holds within it a hopefulness and a celebration. The fictitious location is unattainable, and thus Vernon's perfect image of it can never be sullied. No wonder the album's cover, depicting a majestic landscape, is so calming and inviting. <br />This optimistic tone is a promising progression away from the more reflective and regretful "Emma". It seems as if this great new artist is just now hitting his groove, and hopefully in 2012 we will see that this Hipster Knight Rises. <br /><br /><b>Essential Tracks: "Perth", "Holocene", "Towers"</b><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TWcyIpul8OE?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe><br /><br /><br /><b>#2- M83, "Hurry Up, We're Dreaming" (M83 Recording Inc.)</b><br /><br /><img src="http://c438342.r42.cf2.rackcdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/m83.jpg" alt="Hurry Up, We're Dreaming"/><br /><br />Unlike last year, there's no general consensus on the top album of the year. As the AV Club pointed out in their top albums list earlier in the month, their 15 or so journalists all picked separate top albums of the year. Last year, it was widely agreed upon that Kanye West's "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy" had swept in at the last minute to irrefutably steal the #1 spot. As such, most of the real battling went on in the #2-5 slots.<br />Although there's not a unanimous frontrunner this year, there are several albums that have the makings of a best album. Generally the albums that win on these lists are sprawling, diverse, bombastic efforts, and there was no shortage of those this year.<br />Take M83's "Hurry Up, We're Dreaming" an 80's-retro jubilee of synthesizers and space age vocals. The frenchman Anthony Gonzalez has dropped ambitious electronic efforts on us in the past, but never anything with such a gleeful , carefree energy. Compare his last album's ("Saturdays=Youth") single "We Own the Sky" to almost anything off of "Hurry Up" and the difference is apparent. While singles like this were sonically exciting and decidedly retro, they had a contemplative aspect to them that too often brought a somber tone to the work. <br />Now look at this album's lead single, "Midnight City" (the video below). If the Throne's "Niggas in Paris" was the most culturally relevant song of the year, "Midnight City" is the best song of the year. In true M83 fashion, the lyrics are soothing if somewhat hard to parse, and the instrumentals are gripping in their simplicity. In this four-note melody (you know what four notes I mean), Gonzalez has found the most infectious refrain this side of the top 40. Like so many simple riffs from history ("Superstition" comes to mind), this is bound to live on for years, being chopped and rearranged in a feeble attempt to duplicate this song's intoxicating ambience. <br />What's truly amazing about the song is that it does seem to conjure images of a city in nighttime. It's an unexplainable phenomenon, but everyone seems to agree that the song itself feels like rolling through a shining but silent metropolis. This sort of powerful imagery is not an easy feat, and this gem of a song must be cherished. <br />This isn't to say that "Midnight City" goes unrivaled. Songs like "Reunion", "OK Pal", and the berserkly named "Steve McQueen" (More on him soon) riff masterfully on the album's unique aesthetic. This, like "Fantasy", and like the #1 album, is organized into intentional lulls and crescendos, rewarding climaxes and movements. All of its 70 minutes feels organic, a rare example of the well executed double album.<br /><br /><b>Essential Tracks: "Midnight City", "OK Pal", "Steve McQueen"</b><br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/n5qF1PduEgQ?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe><br /><br /><b>#1- Fucked Up, "David Comes to Life"</b><br /><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUjn3jyxIsfGh6Wyz7V4b91cB1dpFQTyeEEVlztkFgHzkI4tRKmqnF1Guh7_3jQNrQumLl3kKPKs_4dkePTrSHzqXAxnS-16F9mKoUc9WEjYPdm7a806Enn7b3dlGpgHTTmID/s1600/Fucked-Up-David-Comes-To-Life.jpg" alt="David Comes To Life"><br /><br />It's not every day that you run across a pretentious punk band. By which I mean, I have never run across a pretentious punk band until now. It sounds like an unpleasant combination, doesn't it?<br />Well, it's not unpleasant. In fact, Fucked Up's condescending attitude about punk is what allows them to be so extremely good. You probably don't like punk music, as most people, young or old, seem to have a general problem with all punk. I'm sort of the same way; after overcoming a Linkin Park phase when I was 15, I've stayed away from bands with a frontman possessing anything fiercer than a gutteral growl. <br />What Fucked Up has suggested in the interviews that labeled them pretentious essentially mirrors the distaste that the general populace has for the genre. They've stated that the majority of punk is an overzealous, underdesigned mess, an intriguing point. After these claims were made, critics naturally asked, "Pray tell, Fucked Up, how does one make subtler punk music?"<br />"David Comes To Life" is Fucked Up's answer to that query. It is a punk album with screamy vocals and blaring instrumentals, but it's also so much more. The album is truly a blend of different eras and genres of rock. The opener, "Let Her Rest", for example, is a well-paced instrumental that suggests that anything but a punk album will follow. <br />Fucked Up is masterful at eschewing the pitfalls which normally plague the genre- There's no gratuitous screaming, or intentionally cacophonous instrumentals. Every word conveys a part of the story, and the guitarist and bassist have no greed for the limelight. Sonically, the instruments are often filtered in just as strongly as the vocals, but they're always a background piece, carrying the melody selflessly.<br />The album is the most complete fruition of a concept album I have ever seen. The tracks chronicle the unfolding narrative of two politically motivated lovers in 19th Century Britain. As per the tradition of rock operas, the narrative is extremely complex. While at first daunting, this makes "David" a rewarding repeat listen, as you'll find yourself perceiving different characters and plot threads the more time you give it. Admittedly, I don't even have my mind wrapped around the whole ordeal yet. I eagerly await the (hopefully) inevitable day when this album is turned into a musical, as it sounds like the soundtrack to a fantastic post-modern piece. <br />If you were to give someone an instrumental copy of "David", they certainly would not think it was a punk album. They would probably assume it was pretty radio-friendly, in fact. The punk vocals don't detract from these instrumentals so much as they cause the listener to view them in a new light. <br />Therein lies the real strength of the album- Each song, despite being one chapter in a much larger saga, can aesthetically stand alone, and they're some of the best tracks of the year. The album is truly an oddity, and will likely reach a larger audience as time goes on, being that it's just so goddam irresistible. <br /><br /><b>Essential Tracks: "Queen of Hearts", "The Other Shoe", "Turn the Season", "Serves Me Right" </b><br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mW0-jrDeSgQ?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-35044716427250900502012-01-18T13:38:00.000-08:002012-01-18T19:21:46.165-08:00Best Albums of 2011 (Part 1 of 2)<img src= "http://cdn.pigeonsandplanes.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/Kanye-West-Jay-Z.png" alt="Kanye West and Jay-Z (aka "The Throne" performing"?><br /><br />I've decided to start writing reviews here again. This is not so much because I think that anyone will really read them, but rather because it will help me to hone my abilities as a reviewer. The content I will be reviewing should generally fall into two categories: Either media which I have come across that I feel the need to write about, or media which I have been eagerly awaiting. <br />To jump start this new page in the BWF saga, I'll be writing some "Best of 2011" lists, as per the tradition of every website in existence. I personally find these lists extremely helpful, and read probably ten to fifteen of them every year. It's convenient to be able to cut past the usual drag of blindly consuming new releases, and instead work off of these recommendation compilations/<br />Given that anyone who reads this blog is probably a very good friend of mine, you may not enjoy these 2011 lists, as there will be few surprises. I do, after all, have a habit of singing the praises of anything I find exhilarating, usually without being prompted. I sometimes think that I may be the definition of word-of-mouth advertising (done often annoyingly and to the detriment of the media, but still).<br />In any case, my first list is my top albums of 2011. Instead of going with a round number, I've decided to list the eight albums which for me defined 2011. Here are numbers 5-8, with the top four to come soon. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">8. Frank Ocean, "Nostalgia/Ultra" (Self-released)</span><br /><br /><img src= "http://edge-img.datpiff.com/md7c4b69/Frank_Ocean_Nostalgiaultra-front-large.jpg" alt="Nostalgia/Ultra"?><br /><br /><br /><br />2011 saw a major evolution in the definition of the word "mixtape". In previous years, a mixtape was a shorter, more out-of-the-box version of an album in which established hip hop artists would usually sample other artists' beats. For the most part, the mixtape was a letdown, as it failed to compare to the big production feel of the mainstream album.<br />If ever there was a time to be a nobody, it was 2011. Suddenly mixtapes such as Frank Ocean's "Nostalgia/Ultra" and The Weeknd's trilogy of releases proved that the internet was a successful vehicle by which to get your music known, and not by a single song on you Myspace, but an entire release. <br />This isn't to say that Ocean was a nobody before the release of "Nostalgia". On the contrary, he had saturated the net several years ago with dozens of slow love-croons (for a time under the moniker "Lonnie Breaux") which made something of a splash. More recently he aligned himself with Los Angeles rap collective Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All, who weren't making a splash so much as poisoning the pond for some crude but deserved attention.<br />Having been given a record deal and then having had it taken back away from him, Frank Ocean decided to proceed without corporate investment and release "Nostalgia" as a free download. And boy are we lucky he decided not to keep it from us.<br />"Nostalgia/Ultra" has a fitting name in that it hijacks many melodies and aesthetics from previous generations of music. "American Wedding" shamelessly riffs off of the Eagles' "Hotel California", while the lead single "Novacane" bumps and sparkles in a diabolically 80s-tastic manner as Ocean tells a story of becoming desensitized to the world around him. The first verse laments "I can't feel nothing/Superhuman, even when I'm fucking/ Viagra popping, every single record/ Auto-tuning, zero emotion, muted emotion/Pitch corrected, computed emotion", as he draws attention not only to the numbness he now feels, but also to the dissociative qualities of masculinity and the highly technological music industry. <br />The irony of this is that his tale of desensitized life is painted vividly. As the catalyst is revealed to be a young amateur porn star and aspiring dentist, the listener is treated to a truly numbing picture of pleasure. Ocean's ultimate implication equating arousal and numbness not only convinces, but more importantly intrigues. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Essential Tracks: Novacane, Swim Good</span><br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TMfPJT4XjAI?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">7. Jay-Z and Kanye West, "Watch the Throne" (Roc-a-fella Records)</span><br /><br /><img src= "http://watchthethrone.com/images/cover.jpg" alt="Watch the Throne"?><br /><br />Prior to the release of this collaboration, the hip hop world seemed to be in fairly unanimous agreement that it could not live up to its own hype. Both pairs of this duo (self-proclaimed as "The Throne") have reigned as the king of the industry at different points. Combine that raw power with the infamous faux-father/son personalities of the two and you've got a recipe for a completely unattainable goal.<br />So yes, the duo failed to be hip hop Jesus reincarnate. But that inevitability considered, they did a pretty damn good job of trying. Structurally, the album is an oddity. Its best moments are those that have a vicious momentum, but inevitably this momentum is blue balled by some soft, lackluster efforts. The album opener, "No Church In the Wild", has a mesmerizingly simple beat, and Jay and 'Ye play to this minimalism, foregoing complex rhymes for a more pleasing, laid-back approach. None other than Frank Ocean provides the crooning, auto-tunelicious hook. <br />However, "No Church" is followed immediately by the worst song on the album, "Liftoff", where Frank Ocean is swapped out for Beyonce, and the kosher hip hop momentum is wasted. It must be awkward being in a marriage with another hip hop artist. I have to assume that The Throne had enough sense to realize that "Liftoff" was some soft shit. Is it too awkward to have a little pillow talk in which he told Beyonce she just couldn't be on the album? Apparently out boy Hov can be pretty whipped.<br />While pitfalls like this are present throughout the album, it still has a a handful of unforgettable tracks. "Otis" is just plain fun, "HAM" is a rare perfect use of producer Lex Luger (although the track is baffling relegated to an iTunes bonus), and "Niggas in Paris" is undoubtedly the song of the year. I don't care how much rolling in the deep Adele did, she has nothing on the cultural statement that this one song made. It is, quite simply, ridiculous. Ridiculous in the context of hip hop, which thrives on bad puns and the intentional creation of controversy. Referencing his law suit with the NBA ("Ball so hard motherfuckers wanna fine me/First you niggas gotta find me/ What's fifty grand to a motherfucker like me, can you please remind me?"), Jay defines the term 'luxury rap' as the celebration of unstoppable wealth. On their own albums, Kanye and Jay make a point to be introspective, because hey, it's hard to be super famous sometimes, guys. On "Watch the Throne", however, any second thoughts are gone. "Niggas In Paris", and the whole album really, seems to act as an empathetic response to the Occupy Wall Street generation, as these two media goliaths essentially proclaim "We are the 1 percent!". <br />This isn't a bad thing though, is it? It's how hip hop began, in self celebration. For the rest of us, it's escapism. And no matter what you think of them as people, this album stands as a testament that they deserve to boast.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Essential Tracks: No Church In the Wild, Niggas In Paris, Otis</span><br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BoEKWtgJQAU?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">6. The Weeknd- "House of Balloons" (Self-released)</span><br /><br /><img src= "http://the-weeknd.com/images/TheWeeknd_HouseOfBalloons.jpg" alt="A Titty"?><br /><br />What happens when you take Frank Ocean's beautiful, panty-dropping voice and apply it to terrifying subject matter? Well, you get the Weeknd, R&B singer Abel Tesfaye. <br />In early 2011, this mixtape (the first in a trilogy released throughout the year) emerged on the internet and created quite a stir. The mysterious vocalist was talented, no doubt, but his songs seemed to depict truly unsettling scenes. It is very common in the realm of hip hop and R&B for a vocalist to narrate the events of a party. Indeed it's actually quite trite at this point. No one, however, has narrated parties quite like these. In the mixtape's opener, "High For This", Tesfaye persuades a woman into some unnamed, formidable sexual act. His lyrics are endlessly reassuring, to the point where his need to reassure becomes the most terrifying aspect of the story. <br />In the title track, "House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls", the listener is treated to a musical representation of the high and the crash of a hard drug-oriented party. The first half of the song begins "Been on another level since you came", the narrator lost in the bliss of the party and its company. The chorus celebrates "This is a happy house, and we're happy here, in our happy house", a claim reeking of a desperate denial. This is the beginning of the night, when the drugs are in full effect.<br />Halfway through the inspired track, however, things take a turn for the darker. Tesfaye begins to address his addiction, specifically the need of the partygoers to keep their high going. He brings out glass tables which he bought especially for the occasion, and spirals back into his haze.<br />All of this is interesting, sure. But daring content doesn't necessarily make for good music, so why is "House of Balloons" enjoying the #6 spot on my list? It's because it represents a perfect union of seductive vocals and boundary-pushing production. On most R&B albums, "Glass Table Girls" wouldn't exist, given R&B's championing of romance. Here, however, Tesfaye addresses the underbelly of the soulful singer. After all, a man so in touch with his emotions must inevitably face his darker qualities. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Essential Tracks: High For This, House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls, The Morning</span><br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8ex38L8xtNI?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">5. TV on the Radio, "Nine Types of Light" (DGC Records)</span><br /><br /><img src= "http://tunegrape.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/tv-on-the-radio-nine-types-of-light.jpg" alt="Nine Types of Light"?><br /><br />First off, let me just say that it has irked me since this album came out that it is called "Nine Types of Light", yet it has ten tracks. So close...<br />That flaw aside, "Nine" is a terrific album, although it fails to live up to the algorithym set forth by TVotR's first three albums. When TV emerged on the scene at the turn of the millenium, they were an extremely experimental band, more of a Radiohead reinterpretation than anything else, their first collection of samples even humblingly named "OK Calculator". <br />Their second album, "Return to Cookie Mountain" began to change things up, however. Suddenly there were some overtly catchy tunes, like the sex-crazed "Wolf Like Me", and even the more experimental tracks were underscored by infectious, ominous beats. The entire album dripped with apocalyptic foreboding, proving that the band was capable of larger-arcing motifs than their initial releases had demonstrated. <br />"Nine", however, feels very much like "Dear Science, Part II", and is the first notable retread in the band's catalogue. It's resemblance to "Science" is not necessarily a detriment, as both albums boast foot-tappingly yet complex smile-inducing choruses crooned by frontman Tunde Adebimpe, for whom the world has always been a sad but romantic place. The real disappointment instead stems from the band's seeming complacency, especially after such a long hiatus over the last three years. Whereas their past albums were conflicted, "Nine" is content to just be a smooth, catchy listen, and more importantly it's meant to be a reassurance that the band is not gone forever.<br />As such a vehicle it more than serves its purpose, despite lacking the gumption the Brooklyn-based quintet tends to demonstrate. The band certainly embraces this new calm, and as such accomplishes a homogenous, fun tracklist. Having spent their first three albums composing music in what Kyp Malone described as a grey, concrete room, TVotR took to the beaches for this release, and their laid-back mindset is certainly contagious.<br />On "Second Song" , the album's opener, Adebimpe proclaims "Confidence and ignorance approve me/ Define my day today/ I've tried so hard to shut it down, lock it up/ Gently walk away", and 'proclaims' really is the word for it. He's not talking, he's not singing, he's looking inwards and explaining how he ticks. When the flittery beat eventually drops in, so does the band's saccharine optimism. It's as if the listener has caught Adebimpe in a rare moment of weakness, and now gets to witness him slipping into his soothing, jovial stage presence. By the end of the track the band is in full Dear Science-esque swing, with an almost maximalist use of funky guitar riffs coupled with the band's now signature blaring horn outros. It's by far the best opening track the band has had to date, and a high point of their whole catalogue. <br />While perhaps not their best release, TV On the Radio still possesses a sound unlike anything in the music industry. With an ensemble so diversely talented (R.I.P. Gerard Smith, the bassist who succumbed to lung cancer a week after the album's release), they still have a bright, bright future ahead of them. We're just happy to have them back, and from the sound of their music, they're pretty stoked as well.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Essential Tracks: Second Song, No Future Shock, Will Do, New Cannonball Blues<br /></span><br /><iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/dXLpXu9T7j0?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe><br /><br />An interesting tidbit: The woman in this video is Joy Bryant, a graduate of my and much of our readership's high school.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-47019520523237298072010-04-28T00:58:00.000-07:002010-04-28T01:28:06.965-07:00Early RiserI was walking home late tonight when an early riser claimed my energies. A bird, unseen, conveying its presence through a repeated "caw-ah!, caw-HAH!", the sound presumably arcing its way from the nearest tree, around a neighboring house and depositing itself with me. Birdsong is the bookend of purpose; it has the power to commence motivation or to demolish it just as swiftly. Eager melodies in the morning are a call to action, providing your average human being with a feel of camaraderie and assimilation, a comforting lack of the unique. The whole ecosystem seems to rise together, encouraging zest under the pretense of natural prerogative. At night, we have more purpose the longer we remain awake; surely one must be necessary and important to need to sacrifice their precious sleep. <br /> The moment when the birds awake, however, is terrifyingly timeless. It is not just a sound; it changes vision, smell, and feel all at once. Surely, we assume, not all birds can awake at the same time. Yet the frenzied argument of the first is layered enough to be perceived as the declaration of a people. This is a time that no being should experience. It betrays the psychological expectations of the biological clock, melding night and day, light and darkness. Whereas in the evenings this moment passes without thought, it is guarded before dawn by the "caw-HAH!"s that proclaim "What are you doing here? There is no reason to be here." All at once, one notices how bright the night inherently is, instead of how dark the day can become. The dying warmth of day becomes the present cold of its expectation, and ego is shattered. The night, the tool of purpose, the vehicle for executing necessity of any kind that simply cannot be contained in the waking hours, becomes silly and pretentious. This moment indicates, quite simply, the irrational disregard of a crucial human function. It holds not simply the power to truncate, but to utterly delegitimize.<br /> I sleep now, perhaps due to the neglect of a mother, or the flimsiness of a supporting branch, whatever it is that causes such a drastically early riser. Maybe it is the first word, blind in infancy to the conventions of cyclical time. One thing is sure; it's beginning is my end.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Trying to figure if neon yellow trainers are fashionable or make me look like a fleeing soccer player/clown combination.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-46356614709818556492010-02-08T12:35:00.000-08:002010-02-08T12:37:23.171-08:00An Initial Reaction to "Red Bull and Chocolate"Ok, but wait, why?<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Honestly just did this here because I couldn't figure out how to sign in for comments after so long.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-78711869069758828382009-12-11T12:47:00.000-08:002009-12-11T12:59:21.646-08:00Societal DecayI go to type "How to type Greek symbols" into my corner google search bar and by the time I get to "how to" these options arise:<br /><br />"tie a tie", "to kiss", "i met your mother", "get pregnant", "lose weight fast", "use facebook", "use twitter", "use a condom", "use excel", "use a tampon", "use a compass", "use chopsticks".<br /><br />Today's self-esteem boost for OSK.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />...I was wondering why all of these were listed twice with the straggler searches "how to use my penis", "hippie music", and "15-midgedts in G-strings gangbang big person" at the end. I guess that's recent searches...OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-39241721334064405782009-07-26T20:30:00.000-07:002009-07-27T21:29:38.520-07:00Rope-A-Dope. Emphasis on the Dope.I lied. I didn't leave the room. I briefly wonder why the wizard is just walking around in this chamber. I mean, dude, you can come with me. Power in numbers and whatnot. And you're obviously passionate about the cause. Come to think of it, it's kind of a dick move to take this cause you feel so strongly about and pawn it off on some stranger. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about benevolence. And watches. But don't you think you're kinda taking advantage of my kindly spirit? Pokey, go ahead and add the "pass-off" to that cliche site you like.<br />I've left the room. I appear to have been in some sort of tower that disappears off the top of the screen. Now I'm in "the woods". Which is to say a clearing. No woods around me have such convenient perimeters and wide-open centers. I investigate the darker-shaded grass. It's just like all the other grass.<br />I was told to go East, so naturally I advance on the apparent exit to the South. I want to see the extent of the programming of this game, which as I have defensively said already I admire no matter how much I bash it.<br />HOLY SHIT enemies. I don't have a weapon as far as I know. This is probably the game's way of telling me "Don't go here yet."<br />I forgot to pause while I typed. I got stabbed to death. Obviously shouldn't go there yet. But I'm pissed off. I'm gonna go where I damn well please.<br />BlahblahblahDiscoBandits door opens yay. I just accidentally walked into the wiz again and heard him say "We must recover the vinyl pentagram!" I find it funny that anyone should ever say we must do such an absurd thing, so I walk into him several more times. Nope, not getting old. I briefly wonder whether I can possibly rope-a-dope him against the wall to elicit this dialogue repeatedly. I try.<br />Fuck he got away. I've got to get him into that little niche between the barrels. Motherfucker his movement is so erratic its pissing me off. I will get this. Fuck he was right under it then he walked away. This will be my Penultimate Fantasy (Adventure) Victory lap. Even so, I make him say it one more time. I laugh.<br />South Again! Superdodge the two natives with spears. Their eyes are red, which makes me wonder if they are the Satanic Disco Bandits. Which would be a bummer, seeing as I always assumed they would be my friends. I go East to find a bee, and then South. More crazy natives. Is this terrain relevant to the gameplay or just here to punish those of us who don't do what the wizard says? Natives kill me. Fuck this.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />I actually like Dane Cook...mostly.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-49376010703368371342009-07-26T19:37:00.000-07:002009-07-26T20:16:08.657-07:00Crap I Just Realized the Fortune Cookie is Relevant And In No Way WittyFirst room, first thoughts. I have so many keypad options, and nothing to do with them. I feel like Link without his sword. Except less gay. I talk to the wizard looking fellow. What do you know? He talks exactly like Flappers does when he imitates people. I begin to think that maybe I'm too close to this game to fairly judge it. So apparently an ancient evil, long asleep, has risen in the North. My money's on dragon. Or retarded golden chicken that I can throw a saddle on and win the game. Both sound equally make-fun-of-able. I begin to wonder if I'm being too harsh, then realize that I'm just bitter that I have no talents to speak of that produce concrete results for posterity, save for hand-held camcorder videos of me dancing around and singing onstage. Continuing the theme of gay.<br />And just because I want to feel like I'm writing a lot, let's side track for a moment on the topic of posterity. I once spoke to J_Verts about how I have a wishful feeling that all good times in the past are somehow still going on, constantly replaying themselves in some capacity somehow in this reality. For the most part I feel this way about the Triangle. I once had a vision that I would procure a protege (the Swankinator?) as if the Triangle had started some undying chain of good times. I now understand that this self-absorbed fantasy is just that, and that everything we leave behind is left behind. I entertain the thought that someday, for some reason, someone our age (protege-esque) will retrace our steps and make of us what they can. I imagine they would find our blogs, likely their main source of information, as well as possibly our school records and yearbooks, but what else? Would they find Penultimate Fantasy? And better yet, could Penutimate Fantasy (the creation by two thirds, the playing and live blogging by one third) prove to be one of those nuggets of good times that somehow constantly replays itself over and over? Press any key to find out, I suppose.<br />Disco Bandits. I ejaculate. It is messy. I am in my family room. I struggle to hide it, shifting a pillow over my not so ugly uglies. Distracted by my new plight, I temporarily forget about its cause, turn back to my laptop screen<br />And ejaculate<br />Perhaps it's time to enter the world of parodying the parody of the parody, as I see PF ejaculation as more a shoot-off (hehe) of Suspenders than the original. Speaking of meta.<br />Images flash through my mind of wholly uninteresting stick figures from the Kingdom of Loathing (kingdomofloathing.com) and of extremely unattractive yet dashing Star Trek uniforms. I imagine our protege-stalker will someday uncover those photographs and be frightened and confused, perhaps abandoning their investigation. The protege is male, by the way. Girls are icky. If you can't already tell, I'm attempting to blog a lot about this short ass-game by sidetracking as much as possible. I fear Flap and Poke are glowering at me for not respecting their material. And so I move past the third text box.<br />Shit, what key is back? I was so overwhelmed by a DB name-drop that I forgot what was said about them. Doubtless I am doomed to now never figure this game out.<br />Disco Bandit relic must mean Star Trek get-up. Im in.<br />I have already fallen into a game of trying to figure out from whom specific ideas in this game originated. In most cases I assume one programmer conceived the idea and the other readily approved, but I can't help but wonder where these seeds of concept sprung up. I know Disco Bandits must have been Flapjack, readily approved in the defense of Pokey. But "vinyl pentagram"? Aside from being insulted by the fact that anything remotely satanic would ever be associated with the Disco Bandits, I cannot place this one's conception. When I think absurdity, both programmers come to mind. Their styles, however, are different. Pokey's absurd contradictions tend to be humorous in and of themselves, a self-sustaining giggle, whereas Flapjack's absurd contradictions usually make extremely little sense upon first introduction, to be later revealed as a reference or a running gag. If there is no development of this idea, I am stumped. No doubt I'm also being thrown off by the fact that I've never heard either of them use the word "vinyl". I stifle my curiosity, as I should probably get through the game's initial text. <br />(Pause)Bunnies=Pokey. He talks that way. Whereas "there may yet be hope" is Flap. Boy am I going to look like a fool if it turns out one of you did all of the dialogue.<br />Free of that wonderful conversation, I prepare to investigate this initial chamber. I am left to wonder how it is I got here. This is in no way a logical place for any normal person to be, as it looks like a dungeon and even for a dungeon is sparse on the decor. And who is my character? A shady individual for sure, what with the indoor sunglasses and whatnot. The long coat makes me feel like I should be hiding in city allies, popping out to assault helpless passerby with my business of selling used wristwatches out of the inside of my jacket. Come to think of it, the supreme sketchiness of my appearance makes the fact that I'm in such a sketchy place less unbelievable. Maybe wizards need watches too.<br />I awkwardly push my body against the table and all the barrels in the room. Thanks for not giving those any purpose, guys. Now the wiz just saw me run-humping every item in sight. I'm gonna leave this room.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />You guys are so thinking "this is going to take FOREVER." Yeah, it is.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-8896952211871405382009-07-26T19:13:00.000-07:002009-07-26T19:15:13.559-07:00I Don't Know What I'm Talking AboutWhat may lie ahead me as I stare at the title screen of “Penultimate Fantasy”? Groundbreaking, enthralling gameplay? A plot that will have me on the edge of my seat?<br />I briefly consider the money I could make from exposing the homage copyright infringement to the boys at Square Enix, but I realize that I am imminently going to acquire food and I am really too lazy. <br />I am really trying hard to envision what I am about to experience. To “call it” if you will. My sparing memories of the few Final Fantasy games I have played (or seen played) consist of navigating through unbearably large, complex, maze-like areas which are doubtless the result of programmers with too much time and money and consequently getting terribly lost in said environments. I sure hope the mysterious programmers of PF don’t get off on the idea of silly-looking protagonists racing retarded-looking golden mutant chickens.<br />I take these expectations derived from the original and drop them down a level. Or ten. No offense QR9, if you printed out the code to this game, ground the paper into a powder, snorted it, puked it, fed the puke to the neighborhood dog and then collected the resulting feces 19 hours thereafter the result would likely be something more genius than anything I will ever attempt to program.<br />And about the QR9 thing- Can these LOTR junkies stop making obscure Middle Earth references like “Queen’s Rook Nine”? Believe me J_Vert (sometimes from herein referred to as “Flapjack” for my faithful blogging audience. Also, DrK= Pokey, in honor of the probably mentally handicapped horse bitch sidekick of the world’s most justifiably humble protagonist- Gumby), you don’t have the hair growth to be a hobbit.<br />Long story short, I’m ready to be wowed by your game and just wanted to take any opportunity to bash Final Fantasy unfairly based on the limited exposure to it I’ve had.<br />And the title screen leaves me to wonder two things-<br />1. How or will this game parallel FF?<br />1b. What do I care seeing as I don’t even know a damn thing about FF?<br />2. How the hell can I keep readers interested when I’m already rambling just looking at the title screen. <br />Some deeper analysis of the screen itself-<br />Really feeling making some bucks off turning these guys in. My main issue with the title screen is the “T” in “Fantasy”. It’s not a bad touch, guys, it just reminds me of insects and medieval crucifix representations, two things that I’ve always found gross for reasons I will probably never understand. The second one is especially perplexing. <br />I think some higher power has been pressuring me to face my aversion to insects as of late, as I keep feeling that random items resemble them. For example, the glasses at significant other’s (Fuck no nickname)(wait.Tiger.duh[also can we consider the fact that I never even gave her Tigress…]) house have a 3-dimensional glass design greatly resembling the Fantasy “T”. I will not drink out of them. I will not tell her why. <br />Um, so I guess I should start playing. I promise I’ll talk more about your game when I have more to work with than the opening screen.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />And now, finally I will admit that I know QR9 to be a Star Trek reference. Just wanted to piss you off.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-82615275096447273722009-03-01T18:11:00.000-08:002009-03-01T18:12:07.084-08:00The E FactorHaha.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Haha.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-25302257148920786202008-12-08T16:04:00.000-08:002008-12-08T16:20:00.250-08:00I Make A Post Totally Unworthy of Being A Comeback Post in Which I Avoid Creativity and Instead Vie to Link A Ton of Internet VideosRobot Chicken did some hilarious Battlestar spoofs last night-<br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4x-FMGbbGU<br />http://www.adultswim.com/video/?episodeID=8a2505951df2bc7b011e07b3479501bc<br /><br />Watch the second one through the ad- there's more hilarity post-ad. And for those that may freak on me for the Cylon-reveals in the episode, note that the Cylons are a total joke and irrelevant to actual show canon. I'm not saying that any are or aren't true, but those were certainly not spoilers.<br /><br />And you've probably already seen it, but here's the best video that's been on SNL since Lazy Sunday. <br /><br />http://www.inquisitr.com/11006/snl-jizz-in-my-pants/<br /><br />Yes, that is Justin Timberlake in a bit role. And just for the throwback, here's Lazy Sunday- never gets old.<br /><br />http://www.hulu.com/watch/1397/saturday-night-live-snl-digital-short-lazy-sunday<br /><br />Effort exerted for this post: 1.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Originally that whole post was supposed to be this fortune cookie. Then I realized that, as has been the case for the last 3 months, I have nothing to write about.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-72837307824214196662008-09-09T21:05:00.000-07:002008-09-09T21:08:40.438-07:00Large Hadron Collider TimeEveryone duck. Or get under your desk.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Crap, I need a Guybrush Threepwood reference...there we go.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-7611769075189236012008-09-03T21:44:00.001-07:002008-09-03T21:44:54.752-07:00Ressurecting Guybrush: The Quest for Ron Gilbert<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4bqcUzDcy1Vtw1xo2HAxB8CS4sypAHdQknJpx9coh63e2u6XCUG8trjPwLQajH42G18j6SqxOeT9nucFXr60AV_uowV7YV5Bkb8HmsQDpRHLbTaByWtCCxrxqrFEIEO7dIsP1g/s1600-h/956518655-00.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4bqcUzDcy1Vtw1xo2HAxB8CS4sypAHdQknJpx9coh63e2u6XCUG8trjPwLQajH42G18j6SqxOeT9nucFXr60AV_uowV7YV5Bkb8HmsQDpRHLbTaByWtCCxrxqrFEIEO7dIsP1g/s320/956518655-00.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242020642929612226" /></a><br />Who is this dashing man, you may wonder? And what does he have to do with Guybrush Threepwood? Well, ladies and gentleman, this is Ron Gilbert, creator of Monkey Island, and in my opinion, the best shot we have at ever getting it back. The trouble is, Gilbert parted ways with LucasFilm a long time ago. While this is regrettable, I really can't blame him- I would've left George Lucas too after Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Relevant Plot. It's always amazed me how easy it is for entertainment goliaths to disappear, something Gilbert has managed to do flawlessly. According to his brief wikipedia page, Gilbert published MI2, and then one more game for LucasFilms, and then left. He is now apparently in a position at the Vancouver-based Hothead Games. The curious fact is that he appears to not have published a single game whilst at Hothead. The logical answer as to why would be that he holds an executive position that is less hands-on in game development. This would certainly make sense from a business perspective, as his lauded work on LucasFilm games probably got him some pretty cushy (at least in comparison) job offers. The thing that puzzles me is how someone could get their hands dirty making a game as awesome as Monkey Island and then not crave that feeling again. It's long been my dream to be able to design and program a game (Escape the World!!!), and I am angered by Gilbert's cavalier attitude towards his godly talent. So am I just bitching about all of this? No, I intend to contact HotHead games, if only for some answers. Yes, this does make me a huge loser, and it does mean I have no life. But with an absence of life, why not use my free time towards this (probably futile) mission? I'll keep you posted.<br />Speaking of Ron Gilbert, a friend and I recently missed one of the most beautifully conceptualized concerts ever: State Radio and Rage Against the Machine in Denver. Given, there was no way we could have actually gotten there, but my gut tells me that something like that is a sign from God (Ron Gilbert? See, there was a connection there, I wasn't just freestyling a segue) and that it's wasted utopia to forego it. So that's my bit of bitching for tonight. <br />So they were playing outside the DNC in Denver (obviously in line with the two bands' political themes) and we thought that would be it. But apparently Rage also played the RNC just yesterday, though not in the way we would expect. Apparently they wanted to play outside the RNC as well in a similar manner to when they played Wall Street, but the police caught wind of it and prohibited it. So the four band members put themselves into a crowd of people and worked their way towards a central location, where (partially jokingly, I'm sure) they put on an Acapella performance of two of their songs. I love it when groups can laugh at themselves.<br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZv3fsM_3z0&feature=related<br /><br />On the one hand, the video is hilarious. On the other hand, it sounds terrible. I'm just mad Morello skipped out on the guitar solos. But he was on Voyager, so I forgive him.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGlHnomaVwcEPx3235GwFRg1r_QNC_8UCQuaTV3FgBKIlIIKr4-xcjENeOdtHDV_PZkIy_WftJ_VMGCPqKT4l4IMFFJZ20HiR75PODwyvGgeWifMhSUIaNaSWfcJsKO33MJGdnA/s1600-h/Monkey_Island_-_Elaine_Marley.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGlHnomaVwcEPx3235GwFRg1r_QNC_8UCQuaTV3FgBKIlIIKr4-xcjENeOdtHDV_PZkIy_WftJ_VMGCPqKT4l4IMFFJZ20HiR75PODwyvGgeWifMhSUIaNaSWfcJsKO33MJGdnA/s320/Monkey_Island_-_Elaine_Marley.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242019441806103874" /></a><br /><br />GILF<br /><br />That's governor, by the way.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-65949632948707835272008-09-03T16:27:00.000-07:002008-09-03T16:35:02.090-07:00The "U" KeyI'm not picking that up.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blog.winstonecho.com/monkey_island.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://blog.winstonecho.com/monkey_island.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-45681901353094929552008-08-28T22:21:00.000-07:002008-08-28T23:08:03.414-07:00The Fucking Man<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1jKt88I2i5DByOCu9sSC1HsoLOfU5vOP5FfFgilN_qk2THCsFpbpi8US1x_TOZNpPWpv0Ir4InHWi00LKIyyRlVY-YCP5kwQ2o1S9xCshCUE6pBCFD5WNg2HCCRY1CXj2QiRpNw/s1600-h/_art_paco_guybrush-threepwood2_546x636.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1jKt88I2i5DByOCu9sSC1HsoLOfU5vOP5FfFgilN_qk2THCsFpbpi8US1x_TOZNpPWpv0Ir4InHWi00LKIyyRlVY-YCP5kwQ2o1S9xCshCUE6pBCFD5WNg2HCCRY1CXj2QiRpNw/s320/_art_paco_guybrush-threepwood2_546x636.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239812080113766802" /></a><br />People may wonder, even ask me, why I have decided to dedicate (at least temporarily) my entire internet existence to Guybrush Threepwood. It probably comes off as some unhealthy obsession, and will probably be frowned upon for its childishness. I could say that it was a running gag, or I could cite the fact that my previous facebook profile pic was decidedly misleading as to my sexual orientation, but none of these would be the truth. The truth is that Guybrush Threepwood is my favorite person ever. <br />Hear me out now, I've thought about this a lot (at least the last 5 minutes). Every obsession of mine in life has been a passing craze, or at least a recurring craze that jumps in and out of the forefront of my life (Dispatch). Monkey Island, however, has always been a source of joy for me. While I may not always be playing it, I have never found a moment in which I have thought of Monkey Island and not been wishing I was playing it. And at the center of my appreciation for the game series is my appreciation for its hero.<br />Let's bring this back to isolation. Because as we know, isolation is wonderful. Monkey Island is my ship in the middle of the ocean (get there, get there...). I've played enough of the games to know I fucking love them, but not tasted enough to have a wild imagination as to what lies ahead. To cut to the chase, Monkey Island is my idea of the afterlife. Because as we've established, heaven is boring. But being stuck in the world of Monkey Island (Shout-out! Bring the site back!) would be endlessly interesting.<br />Yes, it's a childish fantasy, but the only one I've been able to hold onto. The truth is, I have a bigger mancrush on Mancomb Fourpbranch's namesake than anyone else. John Chrichton may be alive, but so is Guybrush (Escape From Monkey Island), and Tom Morello doesn't even come close.<br />But yeah, moral of the story- Guybrush Threepwood is an endlessly enjoyable fellow, and there better be a Monkey Island 5. This blog has been limping as of late for personal reasons (mostly me actually having a life, unlike during the blogging prime of this past fall/winter), and I've been looking to give it purpose. Well, my heart tells ,me that a brief Guybrush Threepwood theme is in order. It's likely that none of you care to hear any more about him, but I can't ignore this inspiration. Hopefully I can breathe some enthusiasm back into this page.<br /> As a first feel, here's the opening to "The Secret of Monkey Island":<br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3dB0qEcG20<br />It's frightening how emotional that music makes me.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />So I was in a college interview the other day and the interviewer asked me to describe my writing style and its flaws. Little did he know how obsessed I was with the isolation theory, and I proceeded to bury him in a comprehensive psychoanalysis of myself. He had to sit down for a second, he got served so bad.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-11700790095946510462008-08-26T17:41:00.001-07:002008-08-26T17:42:18.373-07:00Why?Hotel pools.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Food For Thought: The term "make love": Sweet and personal, or disgustingly cutesie? That one's been bugging me for years.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-40475261028448000232008-08-16T14:14:00.000-07:002008-08-16T14:17:52.386-07:00OSK Don'tsIf you are OSK, do not-<br /><br />Attempt to make lemonade from a can, for you will not understand that the label "12 fluid ounces" on the can is representative not of the quantity of the final, watered-down product, but rather of quantity of the uber-condensed lemonade syrup in the can. You will likely dump nearly all of this syrup into a small cup, barely water it down, and ingest what was meant to be a pitcer of lemonade in about 3 gulps, feeling morbidly sick soon thereafter.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Should be seeing me around here a little more often. Battalion Wars 2 is hard.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-49759362961446457872008-08-02T11:13:00.000-07:002008-08-02T11:21:13.682-07:00Movie Review: Mamma Mia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_CwgbzGGliH6iYXVauOhaAAqtLgkBGxAa18tr5KYBy91AoHhE7lVy5o0RBF3zfooF6-FiyPtt1zqveXcfSjr1dElVmBEeqd5_PvCY5lAo5wbJGn3pJXn4Wi2W6d45yaxEEm0xw/s1600-h/mammamiaposter.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_CwgbzGGliH6iYXVauOhaAAqtLgkBGxAa18tr5KYBy91AoHhE7lVy5o0RBF3zfooF6-FiyPtt1zqveXcfSjr1dElVmBEeqd5_PvCY5lAo5wbJGn3pJXn4Wi2W6d45yaxEEm0xw/s320/mammamiaposter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229986797922202834" /></a><br />Last Sunday, I was faced with an exasperating choice- I could either accompany my jailers on a shopping excursion, stay in my cell, or join a group going to see Mamma Mia, the Broadway musical now transformed into a theatrical movie release. I settled on Mamma Mia simply because of the company, and because shopping makes me want to shoot myself (one of my few pure masculine traits). Needless to say, I was expecting to not enjoy the experience in the least. Being someone who, for the most part is allergic to musical theater and also not particularly liking ABBA (No, I won’t go to the trouble of inserting symbols to make a backwards B. Deal.), I consider it a miracle that I enjoyed myself. Upon arriving at the theater, I was mortified to discover that I was paying $12 for my ticket. Surely this movie couldn’t be worth that. Had I known what I was getting myself into, I would have happily paid $30.<br />This movie is such a tremendous piece of shit. The acting is absolutely horrendous (Meryl Streep has lost any credibility she ever had. Actually, Amanda Seyfried, whom most of us haven't seen since Mean Girls, was suprisingly the only convincing actress in the movie), the singing is uninteresting, and the plot (this time the fault of the playwright and not the filmmakers) is laughably predictable and uninteresting.<br />What makes this movie such a phenomenal pleasure is the degree to which all of these flaws permeate the work. For example, there’s bad singing, and then there’s Pierce Brosnan’s singing. Sitting next to the “Sweet Ride” Enterprise shirt kid who played Brosnan’s part in a production of the musical, I was treated to a nitpick of all his singing flaws. No, nitpick is the wrong term. Brosnan attempted to sing so far out of his narrow range that he often sounded like he had a medically-induced speech impediment. <br />The movie’s other major shtick was the cut-and-paste nature of the songs and their music videos. Everytime anyone burst into song, it seemed to be the most awkward, inappropriate, unconvincing transitions ever conceived. The music videos which accompanied these were priceless, involving simpler choreography than we have in our high school musicals. The videos also constantly had the chorus emerging from the most ridiculous of locations, such as descending from rooftops or emerging from the ocean.<br />Keep in mind that this is all built around the flimsiest and most downright stupid plot that has hit the box office in a long time. I have never laughed so hard in my life. Ever. One of my companions called it “almost as good as ‘Snakes on a Plane’.” No exaggeration. Keep in mind that if you aren’t willing to experience something truly horrible and even second-hand embarrassing at times, you probably will not like this movie. Personally, it’s my new favorite. You think I’m kidding. I would rather watch this movie than Star Trek II, IV, VIII, Serenity, or anything else. Although I suppose it wouldn’t be the same without the troupe of chums I had who were all audibly mocking the shit out of the movie the entire time. After the movie concluded, a woman behind us came up and shook our hands, thanking us and saying “That was so bad, I wasn’t sure whether to watch the screen or you guys.”<br /><br />I don’t usually rate in my reviews, but on a scale of 1 star to 5, Mamma Mia gets an “I want my penis in it.”<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />I’m bored, I think I’m going to go straighten my hair.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-57472038164832470152008-07-31T15:45:00.000-07:002008-07-31T15:46:20.624-07:00"It's Time For Us All To Be Assholes"I’m trying to gain some blogging momentum again, but I don’t have anything to say, so here’s the stuff I wrote down during our Theater lecture class today:<br /><br />Throw the mini you up and out<br /><br />NY-Wi-NW-NH-We<br />This trip will take forever<br />That was a buzz-snipe<br />2+2=3<br />Who controls the past…<br />Look up Sally’s Rape- The fuck ever happened to McCauly Culkin?<br />Giant lobster in front of camera= Racial misrepresentation<br />How you represent yourself<br />Color-ambivalent casting (TM that term fast!!!)<br />Metacommentary- WTF? Teacher is way too smart!<br />If we could all just love, man (weed may actually be the answer)<br />Why hasn’t anyone brought up Hair? <br />I misses John Groff ass for that (was boob-side, actually)<br />Fucking dues ex machina called out- YES<br />Washington Heights doesn’t HEART your shirt<br />Best quote from this session’s reading:<br />“White people and black people do not have intimate relationships in society today” (paraphrase)<br />Scrawny white kid- “I’ma gangster, I’ma go shoot some hos”<br />Who shoots hos? The worst I’d do is send them back to school.<br /><br />“Race, ethnicity, gender, equality, all of this shit is so different.”<br /><br />I love these college professors.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />So BSG shirt poser kid was wearing a shirt today that said “Whedonist”. Lightweight probably hasn’t even seen Serenity.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-15414847544948426672008-07-30T15:55:00.000-07:002008-07-30T15:56:23.235-07:00Germans Are the Worst Parents EverThey are. Having just come from a Broadway production of “Spring Awakening”, a self-proclaimed “perversion” of an apparently classic play, I’ve decided Germans should stop producing children until they figure out how to do it right.<br />A quick overview of the plot for the unfamiliar: ((((({{SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!11111111ROFL1337!!!!!!11111<br />A quick note- A friend of mine here at Charles Manson’s version of Theater Camp came up to me and said “I’m not just 1-3-3-7, I’m 3-1-3-3-7”. I haven’t yet decided whether I think it’s adorable or sickening. I guess I should just find it refreshing that a girl is 1. Aware of such a thing as leet and 2. Able to be somewhat creative with it. It should be noted that this girl is currently in pursuit of a friend of mine whom I have hardcore Star Trek debates with. Needless to say, I’m doing all I can to expedite their procreation.<br />In any case, Spring Awakening. Here’s the deal- It’s 1891 Germany, and parents are too afraid to explain sex to their kids, so this one teenager looks it up, and, knowing full well the consequences, essentially date rapes his best friend who has no idea what sex is even after the fact. These kids are 15. The rapist’s best friend then fails school and his father (another horrible parent) exaggerates and tells his son his life isn’t worth it anymore. So the best friend kills himself. Then date raped girl finds out she’s pregnant, and is all like “Wow, I guess a guy putting his penis into you is what gets you pregnant.” Honestly, common sense. Her mother (another horrible parent) then forces her to go to a sketchy abortionist whose practice kills her. Bottom line- Germans should never be parents. I could site some historical precedents for the discontinuation of Germany as well, but I’m a bit afraid my joking racism may not translate so well on the interblags.<br />On the topic of things people shouldn’t do: Today at lunch I walked past a kid from the Dramatic Writing program wearing a reimagined series Battlestar Galactica shirt. Needless to say, I excited, as surely only the most devout of fans would make such a purchase. I approached his table, being fairly friendly with a lot of the DW kids he was keeping as company, and asked him “So who do you think the fifth is?” to which he responded “Oh, I’m not watching Season Four yet; I’m waiting for the DVD”. Poser. Don’t tease me like that. Poser.<br />Another weak segue- Scifi shirts. I began this post last night and just recently resumed it, having spotted 3-1-3-3-7’s romantic interest wearing a shirt with a picture of the Enterprise D, under which is written “sweet ride”. I think I’m starting to want him as much as she does.<br /><br /> Waveringly heterosexually,<br /> -OSK<br /><br />Pierce Brosnan has given me more joy than I have ever known. More on that soonOSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-48003973320049799802008-05-26T12:37:00.001-07:002008-05-26T12:39:52.293-07:00Dropped Plotlines (Journal Entry #4 of Pilot Power Master Steel Crush HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros)The dizzying horizon before me brings an almost inappropriate sense of serenity with it. After all of the chaos and pain I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros have been through since entering this green hell, I am not used to feeling safe. It is hard, however to not feel safe doing what it is I do best: cruising in my helicopter. <br />The trip back from my encounter with the quite insane Ms. Earheart was swift, or at least it seemed like no trouble at all after I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros had walked the distance in agonizing hunger just recently. Now my hunger had been sated, as I had made a habit of indulging in the plentiful meat I had gathered. <br />Still, I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros did not enjoy the ride back so much as I enjoyed getting back into my own copter, which I had come to believe I would never see again (an utterlycomprehensivelylame prospect). Having refueled the helicopter and patched up the tank’s tear using materials from Earhart’s plane, I set off to discover what lay at the end of this place. <br />I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros found something interesting among the personal effects Earhart kept around her plane- A notebook, what appeared to be a scientific journal called “ The Metallic Property (Threshold Theory)”. No, it doesn’t really make sense that I’d be snooping around all the papers that chick kept in the back of her plane, and yes, the chances of me actually finding a document so completely relevant to the main story is a bogus plot move. But give OSK a break; he’s taking this one step at a time, and he would’ve introduced this in part three if he’d known where this was going. So yeah, it’s a lame move just to progress the plot. Deal with it. Maybe I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros just have totallysweetnice file-finding skills, okay?<br />The file was written by a man named Cenron Henderson; I assume this is the scientist whom Earhart spoke of, a man she surely turned into a drumstick to add to her bonfire of meat. I read the overarching details of the file before I resumed my coptering. It basically says exactly what Earhart said it did: That somewhere around 5000 distance units in this environment, the metallic content of the green material became so superheated that it melted away, possibly (“possibly” was something my friend Cenron stressed mercilessly) opening passageways to whatever lay beyond, hopefully the world from whence I came. <br />Therein lies the excitement which floods my mind presently. My distance currently reads 4600, and with mere minutes until 5000, I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros am filled with anticipation about whether this threshold exists or not. The temperature has certainly been rising drastically; I do not believe any creatures could survive on the surface this far in. <br />4700. If I squint, I feel that I can almost make out spots of red on the horizon. I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros wonder if there are mirages in here. I do not know about science. After all, the RazorClaw Cerebros family is a family of warriors, bred for more effective courses of action than scientific study. As such, I do not know whether tricks of the mind are even possible in here.<br />My heart begins pounding. The red is growing more and more intense. There can be no doubt about it now: There is a threshold. There is a threshold and I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros am going there. There are a mere four blocks between me and it. <br />Suddenly my complete happiness, my wonderful hope, is crushed. As I fly below that <br />first block, I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros hear an engine kick into full power behind me. Something was waiting in hiding behind that block. I catch a glimpse of it in my rear view mirror- it is the Anti-England Transformer Rebel ship which I had pursued into the Bermuda Triangle. I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros believed that I had destroyed it, or at least had lost it when I entered the horrible vortex which brought me here, but apparently we are in the same predicament. I consider for a moment that perhaps the mysterious pilot recognizes this, and may be merciful in this matter.<br />I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros am wrong. There is a cliché high-pitched scifi energy weapon sound as the craft opens fire. As if these blocks weren’t enough for me to worry about, now I had hostile fire on my ass. However, being the skilled pilot of the RazorClaw Cerebros family (and of the wholly superior rank of Power Master Steel Crush) I am able to progress aptly with little trouble. I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros begin to entertain the fantasy that my tricky maneuvers through the blocks will cause my enemy to crash. However, he seems to be a worthy adversary, if not as good a pilot as I. <br /> As I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros approach the threshold, I cannot believe my eyes. It seems to me, from my distance of 92, 91, 90 from the red, that the blocks within it are…moving. There is no doubt about it- those red death traps are rapidly bouncing up and down, taunting me, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros.<br />Crossing the threshold, I almost misjudge the position of the first, and must fly up at the lasts second in order to avoid a hot death. My guard goes down as I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros frantically compensate for this mistake, and in this moment my copter is grazed by enemy fire, causing it to drop from the sky. <br />I panic. The controls are not responsive. Desperately, I throw the door of the copter open. I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros am engulfed in an intense heat, so intense that I feel that I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros am burning. Before I jump out, I take one last look at the ground below me. It is distant, but its red surface approaches with every passing moment. I jump. This is surely an act of suicide, but so is staying in the helicopter, and somehow I have convinced myself that I have more of a chance falling by myself than being buried in metal.<br />What I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros do not count on is the idea that my enemy may want me alive. Seeing what I have done, the enemy craft swoops down below me, skillfully avoiding the moving blocks, and places itself between myself and my destination. My body slams onto the hull of the craft. The metal is agonizingly hot, as it has been superheated by its hellish surroundings. Every point of contact on my body is burned. Through the fog of tears in my eyes, I catch a final glimpse of my falling helicopter as the enemy craft fires at it, destroying it in a blinding flash of light.<br />I give into despair. I am burned beyond thought, I am alone, and now I do not even have my helicopter, my one hope of getting out of this place. Suddenly a hatch opens a few yards away from me on the ship. A metal claw reaches out and grabs my leg, yanking me inside. <br /><br />My next few days are miserable. Imprisoned in a dark cell, I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros begin to undergo the symptoms of a severe illness. My daily activities consist primarily of vomiting profusely, hallucinating wildly, and rubbing the lesions appearing all over my skin, somehow convinced that rubbing them will alleviate the pain, when all it really does is make them bleed. <br />On either the second or third day, I am visited by a man. They insist on being referred to as “men”, though they in no way resemble any man I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros have ever seen. The first thing I notice about this “man” is that he shares my illness. Lesions plaster his face (Luckily for me the face has not been a popular spot for my lesions), and he grips his stomach regularly in obvious agony. He grabs me by the shirt and drags me out of my terrible cell. <br />We walk down a hallway as black as the cell I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros have endured. The “man” says nothing. Finally we turn a corner, and brilliant white light assaults my (Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros) eyes. As I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros struggle to open them again, my pupils committed to retreat, the “man throws me down onto my hands and knees. Being the strong England Wrestler-Transformer I am, I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros win the battle with my eyes. <br /> The sight before me is beautiful. On the other side of a thin sheet of glass I see my helicopter, slightly bruised but in one piece. I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros do not understand it. I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros cannot rationalize it, but I do not care, for it is there.<br />I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros may have cried a little. No big dea,l okay? <br />The “man” who has brought me this wonderful moment kneels beside me, speaking into my ear. <br />“You will fly it for us. You will teach us.”<br />I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros cannot understand why he would ask this of me, but am so endeared to them for saving my craft that I do not question him.<br />“Yes,” I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros agree, “I’ll fly it. I, Pilot Power Master HeliCyrus RazorClaw Cerebros will fly it.”<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Still DOGGED!<br />Still dogged.<br />Are you?<br /><br />scifiultraists.0catch.com<br />Shameless plug, it's coming back...<br /><br />No, it's not coming back.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-5180847602423313782008-04-11T18:39:00.000-07:002008-04-12T07:56:59.793-07:00We're Going Supernova, Bitch<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/29/science/29collider.html?_r=1&scp=2&sq=overbye&st=nyt&oref=slogin">http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/29/science/29collider.html?_r=1&scp=2&sq=overbye&st=nyt&oref=slogin</a><br /><br />Okay, let’s let that sink in for a moment. Humanity is now playing with a device capable of destroying the earth. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve always said if I could die in any cool way, it’d be implosion (or torque, among other things), and being crushed into a singularity is pretty much the closest you can get on a global level, unless of course you live on a sun. So yes, it’s a badass means of global destruction. But let’s wait a few billion years until the earth is in immediate peril anyhow, or at least until after my selfish ass is dead.<br />But seriously, I do understand the plight of the scientists involved, and even sympathize with their problems of public opinion. Research is research, and as far as knowledge of the universe goes, we’ve taken leaps and bounds in the past 40 years in comparison to the 500 before it. There could be great cosmic truths, simple yet elusive physical laws awaiting our revelation around the corner of any project such as the Large Hadron Collider. It cost $8 billion dollars and countless hours to make, and there is apparently only a slight, slight chance that a black hole will be created. What I’m trying to say is that the guys who built this are way smarter and devoted to science than you and me, and it’s got to be a pain in the ass for geniuses such as themselves to have to put up with accusations of apocalyptic orchestration every time the intellectually inferior masses hear big trigger words like “ particle accelerator” and “one billionth of a second” and “simulate…big bang”. Moral of the story: They’re probably right, and we’re probably idiots. <br />But as the journalist seems to imply (Sorry if I’m putting words in your mouth, Dennis), the risk may be too great. I know I’m obviously a bit biased towards this journalist’s opinion, but he has some good points. Specifically, global destruction is global destruction, and even if the chances are 1000 to 1, if it happens, it’s over. I guess I’m just shocked by the idea that a few physicists in some warehouse somewhere could throw a switch and wipe out millions of years of human history. <br /> I don’t honestly think any harm will come of this, but the idea that it could be that simple is astounding. I just hope those safety checks are thourough. You don’t fuck with this shit.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Over my blogging hiatus Arthur C. Clarke died, which is very sad. The man who gave us great books, movies, and according to Trivial Pursuit the radar, will be missed. Go read 2001.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-32495977560617696222008-03-19T22:12:00.000-07:002008-03-19T22:13:14.495-07:00Going Out Like AIt’s funny; you have tons of ideas for posts when you have no time, but when you get three weeks of free time, you can’t think of anything to say. <br /><br />So I was checking out the iTunes reviews for the Audioslave Album “Revelations”, and I came across this review:<br /><br /> “Audioslave is the threshold upon which rock listeners conquer with their valiant steeds. Buy all three albums and go see them live.”<br /><br />Okay, seriously? Valiant steeds? That sounds like something I would say to mock one of the many things the general population does not but I do not. But, based on the second half of the comment, this guy is actually a fan. That’s embarrassing. Someone obviously takes their music way too seriously.<br /><br />On the Battlestar note from the last post, SciFi had greenlit a backdoor pilot for a prequel spinoff series called Caprica. Apparently it’s going to be more a soap opera and less a war show than Battlestar. That worries me, but I’ll be hopeful.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />I couldn’t understand something on wikipedia and my first thought was “I should check wikipedia to understand this better”.<br /><br />From here on in I live my life through retroactive continuity.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-27432126203721394902008-03-03T14:02:00.001-08:002008-03-03T14:02:58.785-08:00Frak the NormI’ve been spending some of my free time in the last few days bumping around the net, reading various search results which come up as the result of the words “theology” and “Battlestar Galactica”. As some of you mat know, the upcoming season of the reimagined Battlestar Galactica has been announced to be the final season, and that leaves us fans to wonder about what closure could possibly result from the series. Mainly, I’m interested in the closure of the religious plotlines of the show which pit monotheism against polytheism.<br />A primer for those of you who do not watch: The basic plot of the show is that there is a race of humans in a galaxy separate from our own. Thousands of years ago, a tribe of these humans journeyed into space and landed on earth, where they became a primary part of our ancestry. According to Battlestar many if not all of us are descended from them. The people who stayed behind built a technologically advanced civilization over time, creating fleets of battle (space) ships and building a race of robot servants called Cylons. Long story short, the Cylons become sentient and rebel against the humans, there is a huge war until finally an armistice is called. The show takes place 30 years later when the Cylons (many of whom have evolved into “human-forms”, that is, unidentifiable from humans) nuke the massive human civilization, wiping out all but a few thousand of them. A fleet of ships (led by Galactica) decides to journey to find Earth and their long-lost brethren while the Cylons pursue them.<br />The real intrigue of the show to me, however, is the religious continuity. The humans are polytheistic, and their Gods are one and the same as the Greek gods of earth. The two explanations for this are 1) The 13th Colony (the humans who originally went to earth) brought Greek religion to earth, or 2) The Battlestar creators are going to try to have embodiments of Greek Gods appear on the show in some scientifically sound (or a scifi show) way. I may note that this is what they did with the Cylon God, who turned out to be the missing link in the evolution between machine and human-form. <br />One observation I found especially interesting during my browsing was the idea that the Cylons are a metaphor for us humans IRL. The Cylons are completely aware that they are machines. They understand exactly how they are made, and yet they still feel the need to rationalize their existence with a God. Is this perhaps a statement about the foolishness of those who reject a scientific explanation for life on earth? If so, then how do the creators mean to depict the humans, who carry on their polytheistic Greek beliefs? I’m a Latin student, and have had my fair share of learning about Greek tradition. The Greeks, historically, are a proud people, almost obsessed with honor, characterized by the stoicism movement, among others. However, the soap-opera quality of Battlestar Galactica seems to contradict this idea of honor. In fact, I’d go so far as to say any principles of Greek life are not present in Battlestar, save for the religious figures. The humans are not unanimously devout in their belief system, either, which contrasts sharply with the Cylons. In this way, it seems that the writers are making a statement about how religion is not something people truly hold to.<br />The Christ imagery in the Cylon religion is pretty heavy as well. Twelve human-form Cylon models suggests twelve disciples. Aside from that, we discover in the TV movie “Battlestar Galactica: Razor” (Really horrid movie, by the way, felt wrong and disloyal through and through) that the Cylon God is the Cylon who is the genetic link between the pure machines and the human-forms. So supposedly he ushered in the race which are the twelve human forms? Does that perhaps suggest creating his people in his own image?<br />Let’s run with the Christ imagery for a bit, yes? At the beginning of Season 3, the Cylon model D’Anna (Lucy Lawless, known better to many of us as Xena) began to get “too curious” about her faith, and the other Cylons decided to discontinue her model. My theory here- she’s Judas.<br />Let me explain. The “Final Five” are human form Cylons whom the other human forms do not know the identities of. According to their religion, they should not seek out the Final Five, though they should hold a great dear of respect for them. D’Anna tried to find out who the Final Five were, and she got “boxed”. Okay, so she didn’t sell out her Lord, but she did go against his wishes. Actually, that Judas thing isn’t great. Maybe she’s Jesus. I mean, she was trying to lead her people to a great revelation, and in killing her they more or less crucified her.<br />All I can say is, Season Four should have some big surprises in store as far as didactive religion go. If anyone cares, my guesses for the fifth Cylon are either Starbuck or Geida.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />My fucking Twin isn’t working. Screw you, George Sullivan.OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29668256.post-117749937101571962008-02-28T18:11:00.000-08:002008-02-28T18:12:18.457-08:00Some Uptight Right Wing Political HomicideI know it’s unlike me, but I feel the need to address the current presidential candidates. And by “presidential candidates” I of course mean democratic presidential candidates, as I subscribe to the prediction that the democratic candidate who gets the party nomination will be the president. Then again, I could just be thinking that because the Democrats are the most outspoken during this campaign, but I do believe Americans are looking for someone who’ll promise change, as opposed to someone who promises 100 more years in Iraq.<br />A friend of mine brought up a good point with me the other day- Americans focus too little on a presidential candidate’s plans and views on issues, and too much on their personality. I certainly feel that this is a flaw of mine, though a somewhat justified one. In my eyes, a candidate who can’t win the trust of the people through personality probably doesn’t have the charisma for smooth foreign diplomacy. This is my problem with Clinton. In the last debate she had with Obama, Clinton seemed to be on the brink of losing control. While Obama sat back and coolly dealt with the questions (almost accusations) Clinton threw at him, Clinton seemed like she was ready to start yelling. Once again, I hate for factors like that to be the deciding factor, but Obama and Clinton have both admitted that most of their ideals are at least 95% the same. Nitpicky stuff like this is becoming the choice between the two candidates. After all, can we afford to have someone as aggressive as Clinton negotiating with our enemies? One thing I have to give her is that she is the antithesis of wishy-washy. I feel secure that the beliefs she advocates will not be gimmicks for election, but will be what she enforces if elected to office.<br />Having put her down, I also must admit that I’ve had a lack of faith in Obama’s credibility from the get-go. He has bred an army of millions of followers (most under 30 years of age, from my limited observation), people I like to refer to as “Obama Zombies”, people who seem so wrapped up in his optimistic projections of unity that they’ve lost sight of its unrealistic nature. In all her frenzy and mockery, Clinton had a good point in the last debate, a point which embodied all of my Obama doubts, the accusation that Obama is full of stories of a wonderful world that we’ll all live in if he’s elected, and all of our problems will go away. This is how it’s been since the beginning. Months ago I asked one of the “Obama Zombies” I know what his policy was, and I was subjected to a day dream-esque story of unity, and how the parties will be at peace finally, and stated how amazing it was that a black man was in this position, and how that will promote unity in and of itself. I don’t know about you, but I will not vote for a man just because his racial diversity will look like progress. When I pushed the question of his policies, my local Zombie responded that he was sure I could find them online. That didn’t raise my confidence in Zombie credibility.<br />However, someone brought up a good point with me today- The idea that the media may be portraying only the “unrealistic hope” side of Obama, and only the stern, competitive side of Clinton. Seeing as I’ve been working on that disinformation paper, it seemed a valid possibility to me. But after reviewing the policies of both candidates, I returned to my original conclusion, which is that these two candidates are just too similar, and so the only real competition the media has to go on is their different personalities. If this is true, then isn’t there something wrong with our two-party political system? The whole idea of democracy is to give people a choice, right? What choice is there in two candidates who are self-admittedly almost the same figure? Yes, it’s true, we also have the republican candidates, but the two parties really only ever guarantee a choice between two extremes- conservative and liberal. Maybe the <a href= “http://youtube.com/watch?v=1JSBhI_0at0”> Testify</a> music video got it right. Maybe this is why so few Americans actually exercise their right to vote.<br />Okay, so referencing a Rage video probably takes down my credibility a bit, but whatever. And speaking of that video, what’s up with Nader these days? When I was very young, I had a sort of naïve respect for the man. He knows he can’t win, and yet he keeps trying, if only to make a statement about the two party system, a statement I agree with. When 2000 rolled around, I saw him as doing the respectable, optimistic thing he always did, and accidentally finding himself in a huge mess. I’m ashamed to say I actually felt badly for him. This time around, I’d like to think that he’s still just running to uphold the ideal of more than two parties, but I can’t help but agree with people that he’s just trying to stir things up. Really Nader, maybe it’s time to call it quits. <br />All of this said, I think that if I could vote, right now my eyes would be set on Obama. Like I said, I’m not sold on Clinton’s diplomatic charisma, and honestly, I would like to see us out of Iraq in a year.<br />In other political news, I’m guessing my re-election to student government will not go well. I’ve always had a bad rep with my fellow members of student government, but now I think they’re really getting pissed. You see, because I’m always busy with theater rehearsals, I haven’t been able to make it to any of the 15 or so major meetings we’ve had this year. The only meeting I ever went to was on a night when rehearsal was uncharacteristically late,a nd even then I could only stay for 10 minutes or so. I spent those ten minutes reading essays a faculty member had asked us to read- Arguments by girls that boys put too much pressure on them to be physically perfect and stereotypically girly. While it’s all well and good to ask males in general to be cooler people, it’s not very realistic to think it will work, as I told the council. I went on to explain how the cycle of girls being pressured was perpetuated by girls who conformed to the pressures in the first place. As opposed to asking for things to change, girls should take charge and be who they want to be, and it’s their own fault if they don’t.<br />Seeing as most of the council were girls, that didn’t go over so well, and for many of them that was their one exposure to me as a class officer. While I won’t be so daring again, I hold to my opinion. I guess it’s time I cranked up my political charisma to win back the hearts of my council mates.<br /><br />-OSK<br /><br />Have you ever actually met someone who admits to liking Larry the Cable Guy? How does he ever get enough money to support himself?OSKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270150511229994565noreply@blogger.com2