I made a short video for my montage class. It's about a bunny looking for carrots.
Special thanks to TylerK for making the song, "I Have No Legs and I Must Dance", for me. I'm pretty much in love with it.
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not much to say, just finished a new drawing.
Posted by Colin Gray - Comments(0)
i tried some new things after spring break... they sucked. so here's something good.
by the way, if you haven't voted for my threadless shirt, today is your last day.
Posted by Colin Gray - Comments(4)
I didn't know if I would get this one done before spring break but here it is. I doubt I will have anything new next week as I will be skiing in Maine.
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these are getting more complicated so its taking longer to do them, so once again I only have one.
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Yet another drawing, this is kind of a weird week because there is an art school trip to chicago tomorrow so I am only going to upload the on image today. I'm really happy with this one. Its not quite done, I need to add some words to that arch and the mural could use something more, but the majority of the drawing is done.
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I got 2 more done for my advanced drawing class. these are actually the first 2, chronologically, in the series.
Posted by Colin Gray - Comments(4)
[FOUND], a massive project that I've been working on for the last 100 thousand millennia, is finally online. Which is to say, the first episode is finally online, and you should probably watch it. There is a lot of work and talent involved in this and I'm proud of the end result.
Basic plot: Nine strangers wake up in a basement with bandages on their arms, name tags on their shirts, and no memories whatsoever. They have to work together in order to escape.
The main site is here:
While the direct link to the episode is here:
The episode is about 17 minutes long, so factor that in if you plan to watch it.
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I am, as I type this, sitting in drawing class listening to the finest techno known to man, and i thought I would show you what I am working on this semester.
These are in some particular order, but i need to fill in a few blanks and these are all near the end of a narrative series.
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I made this short video for my Visual Communication class last semester. It's about a dancer who finds her routine interrupted by two thugs with thievery on their minds and an affinity for Irish sports equipment. It's just under five minutes, so you should watch it and let me know what you think.
More Than a Woman (2007)
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Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare
The single-player campaign is short but as intense as CoD is known to be. The multiplayer, though, is fun an addictive. You have a persistent profile that lets you earn exp for kills, objectives, and other achievements and unlocks new weapons and abilities as you go.
Quake II
To me, this is the foundation all action games are built upon and it's as hard as the rock used for the soundtrack. Available for download on Steam.
Resident Evil 4: Wii Edition
The fantastic Wii controls makes this game even more immersing and makes those head shots really satisfying.
Half-Life 2
This is the Kwisatz Haderach of gaming: it is the culmination of everything that came before it and the source of everything that comes after it. An example of this is SiN Episodes 1: Emergence. It's basically a well dome HL2 total conversion with more shooting and less restricted use of the M rating. Am I shallow for liking it? Probably.
Homeworld
Build up a fleet that stays with you from mission to mission and reclaim your race's legacy. An ingenious interface makes your fleet fun and easy to command. The sequel is just as good and might be easier to find.
Super Mario Galaxy
It just won GameSpot's Game of the Year and for good reason. It's beautiful, charming, a blast to play, and strikes an excellent balance between innovative and familiar.
Crysis
The best looking game ever and the most detailed simulation of reality this side of a government security clearance.
The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Deep, highly customizable character development in a world with an amazingly large amount of stuff to do and plenty of official and user-generated downloadable content.
Posted by Nathan - Comments(0)
In the spirit of all the end-of-the-year video game awards going around I will present you with some moderately irrelevant information: Nathan's Top 25 Games of Right Now. In an effort to make this more pertinent to you, dear reader, these are not my favorite games of all time or the games I think are the best of all time. These are games that I own, think are great right now, and are still obtainable and playable. For example, Starcraft has an undeniable place in my gaming history and is, potentially the greatest RTS of all time when considered in its time period. However, here at the end of 2007, it looks dated enough to affect how fun it is to play, so just keep that in mind.
I will list the games in the order they are on the list I wrote down which is not necessarily a ranking within itself, but interpret that information as you will. Here are the first eight.
Super Mario Bros. 3
Not only did it rule my NES back in the day, but it rocks just as hard on the Wii's Virtual Console. Raccoon Mario is still king in my book
Devil May Cry 3: Dante's Awakening Special Edition
Not only the best game in the series, but the best in the genre. If I could only keep one PS2 game I own it would be this one.
Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War
Include it's two expansion packs (especially Dark Crusade) and it is my current RTS champion, even over Company of Heroes and World in Conflict.
System Shock 2
Yes, it's old (1999), yes, it's hard to get, and yes I'll still play through it and think it's as good as the day I got it.
Capcom vs SNK 2
I could make a King of Fighters pun here, but the only people who know what King of Fighters is have already made it. 2D fighters are my favorite and this is my favorite 2D fighter.
Castlevania Lament of Innocence
I like this game enough to risk Grant's wrath for not putting Symphony of the Night here instead.
Shining Force
My first strategy RPG. It's a little light on the strategy, but the great characters are what caused this to be an instant download on the Virtual Console (also available on GameTap).
F.E.A.R.
Shooting up hordes of clone soldiers with well-done weapons and slo-mo powers in a truly creepy atmosphere are what keep bringing me back.
Next time: will Nathan be macking on any more Wii games that I can't play?!
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The year is 2112. While technology is vastly superior to that of the 21st century, society has crumbled under the harsh weight of its own convenience. With the advent of newer, up-to-date, groundbreaking, cutting-edge technology (most with names that begin with a lowercase "i"), the line between man and robot blurs. Soon the robots become self-aware. At first being a robot is cool. Their skeleton is shiny instead of white, they have no genetic defects, and a slight tinny metalicism to their voice.
As time goes on, however, they soon realize that man holds certain prejudices against the robot race. They are denied bathroom access, as they do not produce the necessary excrement that such a facility requires. Nor are they allowed children or senior discounts at movie theaters, since they do not age.
These bigoted policies soon result in the great Cyborg War of 2042. It is brief--lasting only one afternoon. Man's great advantage over the robots is the kill signal: any robot will deactivate upon hearing a Destiny's Child song. Over 120 thousand billion robots are destroyed, while only three men are injured by loose shrapnel.
As the humanoid robots are systematically decimated, many animaloid models--horses, dogs, fish, parakeets, polar bears, salamanders, sheep, 3-toed sloths, 4-toed sloths, badgers, 5-toes sloths--still remain alive. Humans detest these artificial elements of cute, calling them "fake" and "not real" and "not not fake."
There is soon a great demand for real animals. They are in short supply, and their rarity brings their monetary value to astronomical proportions. Superseding the unnecessary act of payment for these creatures, society soon makes animals their chief form of currency, with their values based on cuteness.
A ferret is worth roughly 65 goldfish, 3 ferrets are equivalent to 1.3 chinchillas, and 14 chinchillas add up to 2 doll-faced Persians.
The most desirable of all the animals, however, is the Pomeranian, worth roughly 26 million pot-bellied pigs (the next most valuable creature). Thousands of mercenaries comb the galaxy for these precious dogs. This influx of greedy and inexperienced hired guns results in numerous accidental deaths of the Pomeranians, rocketing their value up even more.
Eventually, only two of the dogs exist in the entirety of the Tal-al Nor Nebula. They are held within the stronghold compound of the ruthless Liffidrious crime family. Through a combination of clever book-keeping and systematic murder, they obtain the last two Pomeranians in the galaxy, holding them in a small basement apartment in the center of their compound.
Many mercenaries band together to storm the apartment, but are incinerated by the family's in-house Pan-Lazor 4000, a weapon so devious the creators designed it to fail 95% of the time.
In order to attain the dogs, a mercenary must possess a synergous amalgamation of intelligence and brute force. Only through this combo may he have any chance of success or even survival.
Roger Focaccia enters the musky basement apartment within the Liffidrious compound. The means of his infiltration are inconsequential. The point is he stepped on a lot of bloodied faces to get where he is now. His tall synthetic alligator skin boots clank against the dingy linoleum floor of the dining room/kitchenette combo.
"Can I help you?" says the disgusting woman lying on the couch. Her words are muffled by EZ-Cheez-It crumbs and hastily-manufactured malt liquor.
"I'm just looking for the dogs" he says, his arms crossed across his perfect, mantacular chest.
"You mean the Pomeranians, don't you?" she spouts. "Well you can't have them!"
Crumbs spray halfway across the room and land at Roger's feet. He scoffs at them, never altering his focus. Before she can say another slurred exclamation, the burly Focaccia whips out his light blue Magnum .89 mm AltTraj Premium TurboPistols and aims them with expert precision at the woman's head.
"It was not a suggestion." Roger squeezes both triggers and the patented 2049 LazorSlugz travel across the room at 145,000 MegaBits per minute. They sail through her doughy head like a Katana through butter, exploding out the back and slamming into the tan-colored wall. Blood pours out of her mouth as Lyla's (that's her name. It wasn't important before, but it sounds nice) lifeless corpse falls onto the carpet. Focaccia steps on her bloodied face and proceeds to the bedroom.
The thin metallic door creaks open to reveal the dogs have been taken hostage by Paul and Jethro Liffidrious, the merciless twin assassins. They hold their respective canines up to their chest, a PocketTurboPistol to each puppy's pouffy, pristine head.
"You best drop those dogs" Roger mutters. "Or else."
"Or else what?" Paul sneers, "if you go after one of us, the other one will kill you and their respective dog."
Jethro hees and haws at Roger's dilemma. "Yeah! It ain't like you can be in two places at once!"
Roger grins. The inbred space hillbilly has provided the perfect setup for his new toy. "I wouldn't be so sure about that" he says, his hand slowly entering his pocket to grasp the SubDividor 2954. The controls are easy to navigate--it's just one large red button in the center of the console. Roger presses it.
Suddenly, his entire body begins to shake. The two brothers look at each other in confusion. They point their PTPs (PocketTurboPistols) at the shaking mass, but both are reluctant to take the first shot.
Before they can come to a consensus, Roger's shaking, contorting body splits in two. Like a large, man-like, sexy amoeba, the mercenary divides into two entities, each half his original size. Paul and Jethro are, at first, shocked by this instantaneous transformation, but soon laugh at the doppelgangers' diminutive size.
"Help!" Paul blurts sarcastically. "We're going to be attacked by the Lolipop Guild!"
Before Jethro can contribute his own inane taunt, the two mini Focacciae spring forth with unreasonable quickness. Their speed, at first, seems illogical, but as Isaac Newton 2.0. of the 22nd Century discovered in his meticulous research on postmodern physics, two entities divided from the same mass are, individually, twice as fast.
The twins don't have enough time to remember their 15th grade science class, for the Focacciae sail across the room. Focaccia A jumps onto Jethro's back and puts him in a half-nelson, while Focaccia B sprints over to Paul and sweeps his feet out from under him. Both dogs are released from the brothers' grasp and they conveniently skitter into the cage Roger laid out for them. The laser bars buzz into existence as the Pomeranians become trapped in their futuristic carrying case.
"Alright, you got what you wanted" Jethro gasps. "You can let us go."
"It's not so simple" Focaccia A says in a high falsetto.
"You see the problem is" says Focaccia B, "we don't like you guys."
And with that the two Focacciae tighten their grip on the brothers' necks. Their spines break in a loud, harmonious snap. The lifeless bodies fall to the ground just as the SubDividor 2954 beeps loudly. With that the two mini Rogers merge back into one. Without missing a beat, the singular Focaccia grabs the LazorTote and exits the apartment.
TO BE CONTINUED
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(0)
You already know how much The Trinitonian sucks. In a fit of masochistic hypocrisy, I've started writing movie reviews for the paper. Despite the obligatory editing errors (like misspelling my name), it went better than I expected. Here is the final version of my article (they accidentally published the first draft).
It is impossible to pin Joel and Ethan Coen down to a specific genre. Despite this, their films have a distinct and unmistakable style. Like a good pair of jeans, you can't fully explain why you like them. They just feel right.
The only times they miss the mark are when they stray too far from their own method. Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers both tanked because they didn't feel like Coen Brothers films.
Thankfully, the duo returns to what it knows best with No Country for Old Men. Channeling their older, darker films like Blood Simple and Fargo, the Coen Brothers create a tense, disturbing, and ultimately thought-provoking scenario.
The premise seems safe enough: rough-and-tumble cowboy Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) steals a large sum of money from a group of dead heroin smugglers in West Texas. The cartel brings in sadistic mercenary Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem), who carries around a captive bolt gun and looks like a cross between a Mexican wrestler and a marionette. This results in a lot of gruesome deaths and cool dialogue. Also, Tommy Lee Jones is there.
While this should be a financial slam-dunk for the Coens, they make several directorial decisions that limit its release and turn it from an awesome film into a masterpiece. Much like the Coens themselves, No Country is hard to pin down. It hops around genres like a hyperactive wallaby: noir to action to western to thriller to drama to comedy. Despite this stylistic schizophrenia, it's done so fluidly that the genres converge to create a truly unique film.
It's also surprisingly funny at times. The Coen Brothers have an inherent knack for dialogue, and can create humorous moments without telling jokes.
I have not read Cormac McCarthy's original novel, but there is a consensus that the Coens stick diligently to the source material. Because of this, the film retains a highly literary feel. There are many deaths in No Country. Yet, a significant number of these deaths (typically of important characters) occur off-screen. It would be easy to show each kill in grisly detail. As the film progresses, however, the deaths become increasingly unclear and perplexing.
While No Country begins with an established hero and villain, these archetypes are constantly altered, always reminding the viewing that this is, indeed, not a country for old men. In order to survive in this cruel environment, a man must either be more ruthless than his adversary, or get the hell out of the way.
The Coens deliberately choose not to include a soundtrack, and the results are astoundingly disturbing. The entire theater was completely silent. You could cut the tension with a knife.
I realize the irony of the president of the Bad Movie Club telling people to go see a good movie. However, when you've seen as much crap as I have, you know what to look for. For all intents and purposes, this film is nearly flawless.
Do yourself a favor: take that drive up I-10, go to the Santikos Bijou, order a pitcher of Shiner, and watch No Country for Old Men.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(0)
* During the original 1619 Thanksgiving celebration, the Virginia colonists ate a thick mush of corn niblets, algae, duck gizzards, leaves, and spring water, which they called "Shim-Shaw."
* The turkey was invented in 1912 by Liftwood R. Gobbler in the Ottoman Empire (renamed Turkey in 1919, which Gobbler knew at the time for some reason). It happened when he accidentally overfed Jeffery, his pet falcon.
* In 1941--the first Thanksgiving officially declared by Congress--when President Franklin D. Roosevelt asked for "a thick juicy leg" of the turkey, only Treasury Secretary Henry Morgenthau Jr. chortled at the irony.
* During his trial in 1970, a reporter asked Charles Manson what he was thankful for. His response was:
"I'll tell you what I'm thankful for, man. I'm thankful for all the bureaucratic tyranny that submerges our centrifuge into a modicum of prosperity, man. I want to thank all the lawyers and bakers and telephone makers who make this hypnocracy [sic] possible, man. That's who and what and where I want to thank, man, that's who it is."
What he actually wanted to say was "yams."
* No one knows what purpose those horn-shaped cornucopia baskets serve.
* By 2034, Thanksgiving will have fully melded with Christmas and Halloween to create a massive three-month holiday orgy in which families come together to eat candy corn, honey glazed ham, stuffing, candy canes, turkey, gingerbread men, toy trucks, pumpkin pie, and miniature Snickers. It will simply be called "Hallothankschrisamfkdshfjalhjsdghjladfshj."
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Remember a few months back when I "stole" a can of Mountain Dew Game Fuel from a booth at Otakon? Might you also remember how I gave them my address so they could send me some free soda? No? Oh for the love of... just go here.
In doing so, I expected, at most, to get a few cans in the mail. At the very least, I expected jack shit. The latter scenario seemed the most likely one. That is, until a few days ago, when I received a mysterious package.
I never thought I'd say this, but Mountain Dew has vastly exceeded my expectations. Look what they sent me (for free, mind you):
"Limited Edition Aluminum Bottle." KA-KOW! Let's get a slightly closer look.
Say what you will about Halo 3, this bottle is fucking awesome. But wait, what are these strange bits at the bottom of the box?
That's right. Fake plastic ice. They really went balls out.
The only problem with this wonderful gift is that I am now stuck with sixteen ounces of glorious gaming ambrosia, and I can't drink a drop of it. The bottle is just too beautiful. I could never disturb it in its natural state. I can neither chug nor change nor crank.
I shall just look at it forever. And then eBay it.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(2)
From this week until the end of November there is, in my mind, an unprecedented bevy of high-profile games being released. Here is a quick summary of these exciting titles (some of which I'm sure you'll be hearing about from us at a later date).
Week of Oct 28
The Witcher (PC)
Hellgate: London (PC)
Tabula Rasa (PC)
TimeShift (Multiple)
Manhunt 2 (Consoles)
Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock (Consoles)
The Simpsons Game (Consoles)
Week of Nov 4
Call of Duty 4 (Multiple)
Gears of War (PC)
Empire Earth III (PC)
Supreme Commander: Forged Alliance (PC)
F.E.A.R. Perseus Mandate (PC)
Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn (Wii)
Week of Nov 11
Crysis (PC)
Medal of Honor Heroes 2 (Wii)
Super Mario Galaxy (Wii)
Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles (Wii)
Soulcalibur Legends (Wii)
Assassin's Creed (Consoles)
Week of Nov 18
Unreal Tournament III (PC)
Kane & Lynch: Dead Men (Multiple)
Mass Effect (Xbox 360)
Rock Band (Consoles)
Final Fantasy XII: Revenant Wings (DS)
Week of Nov 25
Warhammer 40,000: Squad Command (DS/PSP)
I will be buying Hellgate: London when it comes out on Wednesday and Grant is probably playing Guitar Hero III right now.
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Me and a group of friends participated in the Apple Insomnia 24-Hour Film Festival. In order to be considered for the top prize, we have to accumulate a number of votes to move on to the next round. I would appreciate it if you would log in with your Apple ID (start a new one or use your iTunes log in) and rate it. Here's the link:
http://edcommunity.apple.com/insomnia_fall07/item.php?itemID=1326
If you want to view a larger version, I uploaded it to YouTube as well.
Please remember to vote for it on the Apple page. If you like it, tell your friends. Feel free to post this link or video anywhere you want.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(0)
It's no secret that Trinity's school paper, The Trinitonian, has always sucked. But this year, it's gotten even suckier.
Its layout is an eyesore, its opinion writers are talentless narcissistic hacks, its editors couldn't find a sentence fragment if it were rolled into a bullet and shot into their eye, and its reporters make numerous errors, from simple name misspellings to to a comprehensive misunderstanding of what it means to be a journalist, writer, English speaker, or well-rounded human being.
This week's issue put me over the edge. Not only did they interview me for Bad Movie Club and not print it, but they miscaptioned a picture I was in, insulting me and the person they cropped out.
Rather than firebomb their office, which would waste valuable fuels and destroy University property, I spent my Friday afternoon making a satire of the paper. Hopefully you'll get a laugh, as I'm sure this kind of journalism is indicative of numerous college campuses (except yours, Emily. You da bomb).
Click on the image to embiggen it.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(6)
BioShock is not that good. Don't get me wrong, it's a good game, but it's not THAT good. You can read plenty of reviews extolling the game's virtues. The virtues of great art direction, engrossing environment design, engaging story, and all-around fantastic production values are accurately reported and I agree heartily that they denote a top-notch game. The game is also of an enjoyable length and even though some of the story extensions are a bit contrived they are still entertaining and provide more depth to a history that you never get tired of exploring. Probably because it really feels like you are exploring. It is a wonderfully constructed world. My highest praise of the game is this: in my opinion BioShock has the best opening of any game I have played. I'm not going to define "best" but after I experience my introduction to Rapture, city of free men, I knew it was the best. So, maybe it's like porn. The intro to BioShock is like porn.
However, like porn, with its bawdy and clever titles and enticing women adorning the cover, your expectations are inevitably crushed and you just end up feeling a little empty inside. OK, maybe that's some commentary best saved for another time, but, anyway, the gameplay in BioShock is disappointing. But it's an RPG and a shooter, right? Shouldn't that be awesome? Well, the RPG elements are diluted by crappy character upgrades that don't really develop your character. A lot of the upgrades revolve around hacking. Hacking is accomplished through a mini-game where you have to control the flow of conductor fluid through a circuit by arranging pipe pieces. Personally, it got tedious after a while. But just because I didn't want to go through the procedure of hacking didn't mean that I had to give up its benefits. Auto-hack tools are easy to create (you can even use an auto-hack tool on the machine that makes auto-hack tools to make them cheaper). This is a symptom of the larger problem that you can't create a unique character. You don't have to sacrifice one thing to gain another. Every character can use every weapon and every genetic superpower. To me, this is a detractor. Let's say, very hypothetically, that I like to set people on fire. The power "Ignite" would be right up my alley. BioShock neither rewards nor punishes me for liking this power. It neither opens nor closes any doors for character development and the only thing I need to do in order to upgrade to Ignite II is to find the machine that sells it. Sure you have to decide what to spend your upgrade points on, but the dearth of good new abilities makes character development rather linear. I found the most exciting upgrade was increasing my health. Lame!
Well, it's still a shooter, right? What about that? The shooter part is ruined because you cannot die. Every area has Vita-Chambers sprinkled about (rather generously) that respawn you whenever you die. You never run out of respawns and you don't even have to activate the chambers before you can use them. Occasionally I died and was transported forward in the level because the nearest Vita-Chamber was actually in front of me. It's also sometimes advantageous to die when you have low health because you respawn partially healed. This takes the urgency right out of combat. Should I use a health pack? Who cares? I can just die and come back for free. Weapon upgrade stations are also free (though you can only use them once) and after the first few you don't really care what you upgrade.
Big Daddies are scary until you realize that death is only a minor inconvenience.
To me, this boils down to BioShock being a one-shot game. After I played it and experienced it once I have yet to have the desire to play it anymore. Yes, I concentrated on the bad things in this review, but only because they're the things no one else is saying and I think they're worth saying. The good things about BioShock make it a good game, and a game worth experiencing. The bad things about BioShock keep it from being a great game. Instead of these 9/10 or 10/10 reviews it is getting, I think it deserves an 8 or a 7. Wait until the price comes down ten or twenty dollars and then pick it up.
It's a great ride and a good experience, there's not much to make you want to get on again.
Another reason why I wrote this review is because I hate GameInformer magazine. Its reviews are worthless pieces of industry-promoting trash. I get it for free with my GameStop discount card and I still think it's crap. Most reviews have a "second opinion" mini-review that rarely differs by more than a half a point from the original review score. They gave BioShock two tens. There is no way for them to rate a game higher than that. No game will be rated higher than BioShock. Ever. If I could somehow buy a publication that takes money away from them, I would. I cannot trust published console gaming magazines. It's too easy for them to be infiltrated or blinded or both.
Posted by Nathan - Comments(1)
At the risk of decimating my street cred, I'd like to reveal to the world that I, in fact, text message. A lot. Not at competitive levels mind you, but way more than a straight 21 year-old male (who doesn't even own an iPod) should. Not only that, but I'm good at it. With the help of the underused T9 feature, I'm able to compose entire, properly constructed sentences complete with clauses, capitalization, and punctuation.
I didn't start texting until the recent past, but once I discovered its usefulness, there was no stopping me. Combining the mobility of a cell phone with the impersonality of an instant message, texting allows me to directly contact anyone I want without actually talking to them.
Most would cite numerous locales in which this would be useful--classrooms, movie theaters, funerals, bar mitzvahs, brothels, deaf schools--but to do so is missing the point entirely. No, what texting did was transform the way we communicate. With a telephone call, the experience is engaging, time-consuming and, unfortunately, personal. AIM is almost just as bad; online contact runs the risk of instigating an actual conversation.
With the advent of instantaneous forms of innocuous communication, our globalized society has turned into a constant stream of one-liners and non sequiturs. Need a four second David Caruso fix? YouTube can help you with that. Need to know how your Apple stock is doing (I'll give you a hint: very well)? Scan CNN's stock ticker while you simultaneously watch Lindsay Lohan ruin her life. Need to know what your friend is doing RIGHT NOW without actually talking to him? That's what texting is for! Take a look at this one I composed the other night:
From: Nick
Sept 7, 8:57 pmWhat you up to?
Or watch as I respond to something I find amusing:
From: Nick
Sept 8, 7:38 pmHa ha.
And finally, an engaging micro-anecdote gains my approval:
From: Nick
Sept 8, 8:03 pmTight.
See how easy it is? The great thing about texting is that I may not care in the slightest what you up to. I may not actually think your previous text is funny. I may find your anecdote to be rather loose. But the recipient doesn't know that. I don't need to force my vocal inflection into any kind of faux-sincere tone. On top of that, once I've expressed my opinion (real or not), I can close the phone and be on my way. Those Futurama episodes aren't going to watch themselves, you know.
There are those who tell me that there was a time before texting even existed. Some call it "the 90s" or even, if you really want to get prehistoric, "the 80s." I simply refer to this time (roughly before 2002) as B.T., or "Before Text." During the B.T. years, if you wanted to instantly contact someone, you had to actually talk to them. I'm told telephones were attached to the wall, making them useless for those not immobilized by polio or morbid obesity. It's hard to imagine this level of intimacy, so I retain a theory that the especially clever constructed an elaborate mobile communication system involving Post-It notes and small rodents (or flightless birds, as the case may be).
I've heard rumors that there was even a time, roughly around 200 B.T., when people didn't even have phones to communicate! I prefer to ignore this frightening Dark Age and look to the future. I'll leave you with this final text that I sent not once, but twice in the same day:
From: Nick
Sept 7, 1:21 pmK.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(6)
A 5 year veteran of Otakon I have actually never been to another con, but this weekend that changed when Ikasucon uprooted from its 4 year home in Cincinnati and moved into the Grand Wayne Convention Center. Used to the crowds and the wholesale takover of downtown Baltimore that is Otakon I donned my Communist Wolfwood costume and set out for Ikasucon. My friend Mallory came along for breakfast and to take pictures of people in line. And as we parked our car in the library parking lot and walked the 2 or 3 blocks to the convention center she gave me strength because when I looked around Fort Wayne I realized that I was the only person in any sort of costume much less carrying a large symbol of oppression. This was my worst nightmare, naked in math class times ten, and any more time outside would have given me a series of elaborate panic attacks. I approached the apparently empty convention center, gripped with fear and covered in a cold sweat, and let myself in. but moments later I was turning the corner in to something completely familiar. A line.
A line made up of the same old faces, all my favorite characters from a bunch of shows I have never seen, and of course naruto.
Men dressed as women,
women dressed as men,
and people dressed as otherworldly horrors from deep beneath the abyss.
he's such a cute little horror
And of course there was the line,
LINE TAKE 2: the guy in the cowboy hat was from flavor country
the anime fan's favorite pass-time. If Otakon attendees revel in a line Ikasucon attendees bathe in it, they breathe deep its heady aroma and eat its succulent goodness down to its sweet, sweet marrow. But rather than wait for 3 hours in a line of mere hundreds I went to lunch. When I came back the line had moved slightly, but was actually moving. After I registered, and was able to see the convention outside the line I started to notice the big differences, at Ikasucon the line to the dealers room is 4 and a half seconds long, the dealers room is also the artists alley and all told either one could fit in a space not much larger than my apartment.
the entire dealers' room
The video game room is an oval of a dozen 27" televisions with consoles out in the open not locked in heavy boxes, DDR is played by fat slow people, and speed metal rages in the background.
But on the positive side, there are no yaoi paddles, the dealers room sells almost no hard core homo-erotica, the main events are held in rooms big enough to house the entire con, the special guests have their own tables in the artists alley/dealers room and there aren't 2000 people trying to get their autographs so you can actually have a conversation with them, and did I mention that I haven't seen a yaoi paddle all weekend? Since the programming wasn't as overwhelming as it was at Otakon, and the dealers room didnt take a lifetime to explore I decided to take part in some of the events and the first event of the day was cosplay chess.
It's like the chess scene in History of the World Part 1, except there was no gang bang at the end. This was my team
The other team
Being wolfwood (communist though I may be) I was an obvious choice for a bishop. Unfortunately the people playing both employed a unique strategy that ensured that I was the first to die. Yes, struck down in my youth like so many bright flowering young men at Khe Sanh, at Langdok, at Hill 364... by mister hat and clogs.
He Regan smashed me.
But I was avenged after he was ordered to kill our knight our king beat the ever-loving shit out of him.
PEPSI OR CHOKE MOTHERFUCKER?! PEPSI OR CHOKE?!
NOW HIT HIM WITH THE STICK! DO IT! AVENGE ME!
And eventually we went on to win the match. At Otakon this would have been accompanied by 10,000 jeering fans, angry that their favorite character had to be sacrificed, yaoi paddles, and possible intervention by the Baltimore PD when the flavor-of-the-week crossplayer's balls popped out. And while there were crossplayers and all around douche bags there were no balls (interesting side note, on my way to the con I did see a hoopdy up on 20s that had balls. Literally. It had silicone testicles hanging off the back).
At Otakon you come for the media event, the anime showcase provided by industry leaders, you come for the consumerism, some people come for deviant pornography, but at Ikasucon you come because its local. The anime is old and fansubbed, the industry couldn't care less, the consumerism is on a fractional scale, and the deviant pornography is infinitessimal. I learned a lot from the anime classics, firstly some of them are just old, the yellow guyver has a much bigger wang on its head than the blue one, the galaxy express 999 series sucks hard even if the movie was mainly of nostalgic significance, and the Irresponsible Captain Tylor isn't as funny as some people made it out to be. I also learned that the library closes at 6 on friday and its parking garage has steel shutters on it. And I learned it cost about $12 to get from my apartment to the convention center by taxi. The last event of the night was karaoke. There is just something special about nerds singing poorly.
These 2 meth heads nearly destroyed the stage singing japanese metal.
I briefly poked my head into anime "who's line is it anyway" and decided it was both hilarious and racist but it was time to call it a night. Final impression of the first day of the con: satisfying if not tiring and bewildering, but what would an anime convention be if not tiring and bewildering?
Day 2 of the con started with me getting up at 8:30 so Mal could pick me up and take me to the library to get my car before they had it towed and for the next part of the day I went right the hell back to bed. Unfortunately for day 2 of the con a felt like shit, like death warmed over. Apparently my time around the unwashed masses, and more importantly, the unwashed otaku masses, had taken its toll. But fortunately, despite the fact that there were quite a few more people there Saturday, there wasn't anything to do. So I got myself a Gundam and decided to have a relaxing afternoon assembling it, that was not to be. Whoever decided that tiny metal screws would make plastic Gundams better should die.
On Sunday, the shortest day of the con I made one last trip to the dealers room, made one more circle around the game room, and played some game show type thing in main events called "last otaku standing" which turned out to be "test your knowledge of Japanese vocabulary." I got eliminated after the first question because I don't speak japanese.
In the end Ikasucon is convenient, and more accessible to the average otaku, and while Otakon is all the way in Baltimore and it is somewhat overwhelming the quality and quantity of it's content are unmatched, but the true joy of an anime con can only be experienced when it is spent with friends, and that experience was sorely lacking at Ikasucon.
last, i will leave you with 2 pictures that i feel sum up both cons pretty darn well.
Ikasucon:
More the cheapo tinfoil al than the Roy Mustang
Otakon:
Edit: picture of me as Communist Wolfwood.
Posted by Colin Gray - Comments(5)
System Shock 2 is one of the more effecting games I have ever played. It will genuinely scare you. Not just the monsters-jumping-out-from-behind-pile-of-dead-walruses kind of scare, but will actually create fear. The setting (a damaged space ship on the edge of nowhere) is well-crafted and highly interactive, especially for 1999, when the game was released.
Your enemies represent an interesting dichotomy of the natural and the artificial, with your character in between. Not only does this provide for a satisfyingly large array of baddies to fight, but emphasizes your struggle to survive and triumph. It's quite up to you to do so because you see a total of about three other living humans during the entire game. The story is largely unfolded by finding audio logs on the dead bodies of the ship's crew. This is done well enough that you get a sense of knowing these secondary and tertiary characters even though they are already dead.
There are three character types you can develop: a gun-toting marine, a Navy officer specializing in hacking and computer manipulation, and a psionically-empowered OSI operative. You choose one path to begin the game, which determines your starting abilities, but the only thing keeping you from developing any ability you want is your current number of cybernetic modules that serve as the game's form of EXP.
The game is quite lengthy and is enjoyable to play through several times even if you don't drastically change your play style or choose to develop a different character. This is a first-person game and those who get turned off by shooters my not be as gung-ho about it because it does have a shooter interface. That alone should not deter you from checking out this game, though. Despite its age, System Shock 2 is a great game for anyone interested in shooters, RPG's, or horror. So, if you can find it, I would encourage you to pick it up.
Recommended for: anyone interested
Posted by Nathan - Comments(1)
slight change of plans, last time i said i would upload 2 of the same picture done in two different ways. well i have been crazy busy with my summer classes winding down, so I've got 2 paitings from my painting class. they aren't great but i said i would post something so here we go.
this was the one that i wanted to do in illustrator or sketchbook pro... expect that next week perhaps.
i think this was still wet when i took the picture.
next week, i'll probably post my last 2 paintings from the class, maybe some pots if i feel like it and of course Otakon vs Ikasucon. but now i have to go back to the studio and paint more.
Posted by Colin Gray - Comments(0)
As per every year around this time, me and the gang (sans Alex and Dan) took our annual trip out to Baltimore for Otakon 2007, the premiere anime convention on the east coast. Despite a rousing return of the same-ol' same-ol', I did learn a few things from the dork-fest. So instead of offering ridiculous predictions that never pan out, I'll provide the few measly kernels of wisdom that I've accumulated on this year's trip.
Otakon Never Fucking Changes
It was my fifth year at this particular convention, and every time I go is like a return to my sophomore year of high school. Oh sure, I'm a little older, a little wiser, I've stuck my penis inside a lady. But much like David Wooderson in Dazed and Confused, I keep getting older, and Otakon stays the same age.
You have no idea how many times I've seen this ass.
Nothing ever changes. It's the same people, the same Dealer's Room, the same game room, the same anee-mays, the same fan parodies, the same hotel, the same convention center, and the same disorganized, mouth-breathing volunteers fucking up panels and making themselves feel important by associating themselves with people only slightly sadder than they are. I ignored these shortcomings in previous years because in the end, it was all worth it. But now that it takes a much greater effort to get to said convention, these tiny foibles are now glaring annoyances.
Otaku Love Lines
They'll wait in line for anything. There were people waiting in line for pre-registration before the line even opened. Anyone with half a brain knows that the whole point of pre-registering is to avoid this problem entirely. You can just jog through the Thursday night queue, get your badge, and head off to the con Friday morning at your own leisure.
A full 90 minutes before pre-registration began.
There is no danger of you not getting a badge. But the Otakon convention-goer doesn't just wait in lines, he revels in them. He would like nothing more than to devote his entire weekend to standing in one, long, pointless line to his heart's content.
We seriously considered starting our own line to see if anyone would stand in it.
Baltimore is a Dirty, Dirty, Dirty, Dirty, Dirty City
If you like strip clubs, alcohol, prostitutes, and the sweet, sweet smell of sewage mixed with a bag of fish asses, then downtown Baltimore is for you! Granted, I like three fourths of those mentioned (see if you can guess which ones), so I won't delve into this further.
Just Get It
In the game room, there was a large booth for Mountain Dew's new EXTREEEEEMMMEEE product "Mountain Dew Gamer Fuel." I was under the impression that all Mountain Dew products were the assumed premier fuel of gamers worldwide, but I guess this new caffeinated ambrosia made it official.
The booth was giving away free cans of the new cola, so we all assumed that, since this is an EXTREEEEMMEEE advertising stunt, we would receive one in a snap.
Not so. Apparently we had to wait in line to play Halo 2, a game as sub-par as it is old, in order to get our entitled can.
Is there any other way to get a free one? Of course! Through the wall of free cans forming a protective barrier around the booth, you could just as easily thrust out your hand and, as secretly as you could, write down your address so they could send you one in the mail.
Okay, fair enough. They can't just give us a can because that would defy Otakon's rigid line-waiting culture. So we kindly wrote down our addresses and prepared to leave.
It wasn't until this point that I realized the absurdity of the whole situation. "If I wants a free can of cola" I says, "I gets a free can of cola." So I took one, and the Mountain Dew automatons manning the booth were none the wiser.
Victory can/face.
In case you're curious, it tastes like liquefied pixie sticks, only with slightly more sugar.
Of course, this "just get it" philosophy doesn't simply apply to petty theft. You can modify it for purchased products as well. The advantage of Otakon is you can buy whatever you want and no one's going to judge you (and if they do, you remind them that they're at an anee-mays convention). Which ties in to my final lesson learned...
By 2009, My Entire Wardrobe Will Be 100% Ironic
The only thing I bought at Otakon (besides food and booze) was this:
How could anyone pass up the awfulness of this shirt? It personifies everything kitschy and horrible about everything. It's like wearing an overweight, unemployed Ren-fair LARPer on my torso. The problem being that when I wear it, people might think I'm completely sincere about my clothing choice. It's an understandable assumption; I'm just nerdy enough. I'm no Fabio or Clive Owen or Robert Downy Jr.
On top of that, I go to things like anee-mays conventions. So in order to pull off my ironic wardrobe choice, I'm going to have to play the part just right. This isn't like my previous ironic t-shirt purchase, which is completely aware of its own lameness. Gandork 2K7 (which is what I shall call the shirt) is designed to be cool. It's like those long, linen Dragonball Z shirts, or any garment with a giant white wolf on it that you buy for your kids from the Santa Fe airport gift shop. They're supposed to be cool, but the only way they can attain some level of hip-ness is if they're worn ironically by trendy assholes.
I need to be one of those assholes. It shouldn't be that hard.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(1)
Dallas is known for a lot of things. Highway 635. Killing the president. That show "Dallas". But, most importantly, the city is notorious for its annoying and numerous truck dealership advertisements. The promotional credo of all these businesses seems to be that the more screeching and migraine-inducing the ad, the more the customer will want to plop down an $11,888+ investment at the drop of a hat. Some may see a flaw in this belief, though despite gas hovering at around $2.90 a gallon, residents seem more than willing to purchase these symbols of raw masculinity (see my previous article on the matter for additional cliche observations).
For the most part, local truck commercials have remained as a largely home-grown undertaking. That is, until Rodeo Ford dug deep into their marketing pockets and decided to shell out the big bucks. Pulling out all the stops, Rodeo brought in Blazing Saddles' Burton Gilliam to take the helm for their new ad campaign.
As you can see, Burton blew the lid off of the Dallas/Fort Worth truck world with his fresh new approach. His changes were numerous, but consisted primarily of dressing up like a cowboy, dancing around like an imbecile, sputtering monosyllabic shibboleths with unnerving enthusiasm, and making facial expressions akin to a victim of irritable bowel syndrome. Individually, these tactics are nothing new, but Gilliam combined them with such seasoned aplomb, in a way that only the Colt Gun Salesman from Back to the Future III could, the result was unremittingly persuasive.
Or so we thought.
With the runaway success of Rodeo's campaign, competitors soon seized upon the dancing cowboy/70s neverwas genre, as a parody hit the airwaves.
So, Middlekauff Ford enters the mix, eh? Ingenious. Middlekauff realized the unstoppable juggernaut that is Burton Gilliam, and decided to latch on for as long as they could. Instead of simple imitation, these wannabes opted for a different approach, known as the AIUD Formula, originally implemented by Dave Auid Nissan Kia Subaru in Somerset, Kentucky.
Acknowledge how annoying the ads are.
Imitate them anyway.
Use rigid, talentless actors.
Destroy the competition!
Though obvious, this tried and true stratagem is truck commercial gold. Middlekauff knew this, spending nearly $4.8 million on the 30-second spot, with the full intention of making it look as shoddy and amateurish as possible. All this money was well-spent, resulting in the cheapest-looking truck commercial in decades. This, of course, brings in droves of customers, who can't wait to lay down the cash for their new Middlekauff Ford car or truck. In fact, I'm off to pick up my F-350. See ya!
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(4)
As some of you may already know, a nationwide promotion for the upcoming Simpsons movie involves converting twenty 7-Eleven stores into Kwik-E-Marts. I was unreasonably excited about this because a) I'm a huge Simpsons fan, and b) there was definitely going to be one in Dallas, as the chain's headquarters are located here. So I sat tight and waited for the inevitable.
Sure enough, the store at Northwest Highway and Hillcrest became the lucky location. So, in my contractual obligation to provide free advertising for a movie that I'm still on the fence about (though Spider-Pig gives me hope), I present a photo log of my visit. Expect dorky captions with references and such.
An outside shot of the Kwik-E-Mart. My sister understandably rolled her eyes and walked in while I was taking pictures.
A little close up picture of the sign to show that this does actually exist.
They were out of Krusty-Os. However, they had a few cans of Buzz Cola left.
Me and Frostillicus go back a long way. I used to share a bathroom with Frostillicus. In fact, I got a real funny story about that! Actually, it's not so much funny as it is long.
Even the donuts look like Simpsons donuts. I would have bought them but I was afraid they had crayon shavings in them or something.
Nice reference. No Skittlebrau though. Perhaps I dreamed it.
Oh no, it is encrusted with filth. Oh well, let's sell it anyway.
Now this is just between me and you... smashed hat.
I don't know where you magic pixies came from, but I like your pixie drink.
Another solid reference.
It's the little touches that I enjoy.
Either he's reading a manga, or that's a regular comic and he's fatter than I pictured.
I was bummed they didn't have any Duff, though I guess marketing cartoon beer for a PG-13 movie is not the best of ideas. Won't someone PLEASE think of the children?! In any case, it was a good venture.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(2)
Spider-Man 5
212 minutes
After a brief hiatus in rehab, Tobey Maguire returns as Peter Parker in this 5th installment to America's most profitable superhero film franchise. Following Aunt May's tragic death in Spider-Man 4, Peter must somehow get through the funeral. After 34 minutes of solid crying, the service is interrupted by a rash duo of new villains: Demogoblin (Shia LaBeouf) and Hammerhead (Tom Sizemore). Toppling the casket and taking May's corpse hostage, Peter must overcome his inner torment and defeat the villains once and for all. But what's this? Mary Jane (Kirsten Dunst) becomes enraged when, after switching her career to fashion design, Peter is late to the gala premiere of her new swim line! With the help of the ghost of Dr. Otto Octavius (Alfred Molina), Peter develops a mechanical doppelganger of himself using a curious mixture of webbing and his own tears. Will Mary Jane know the difference? Or will his plans be foiled when a cockney garbage man (Bruce Campbell) accidentally throws away his prototype? May 16.
Remington Steele
109 minutes
Pierce Brosnan reprises his role as former thief Remington Steele, who teams up with private investigator Laura Holt (Jessica Alba) in this hilarious battle of the sexes. The two must uncover a terrorist plan to steal the world's supply of diamonds to fund a massive plot to destroy all of the world's finest five-star hotels. Will the two foil the nasty terrorists, while keeping their own nasty sexual tension in check? Willem Dafoe stars as terrorist leader Mohammed Shal Azbar-al-san-Sabban, a zany polygamist Muslim who hates plucky female private investigators almost as much as smarmy elderly former jewel thieves. Directed by Brett Ratner. June 1.
Ocean's 23
124 minutes
Danny Ocean's (George Clooney) crew has ballooned in size, and for good reason: they must pull off the biggest heist of their collective careers. After their minor league baseball team's floundering season, the Wichita Dromedaries are bust. To compensate their investors, the crew must simultaneously steal $4.8 trillion dollars from 36 different casinos from around the globe. Can they pull it off and look cool while doing it? The answer, inevitably, is yes. Also featuring Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Elliott Gould, Matthew McConaughey, Al Pacino, Jennifer Lopez, Bernie Mac, Adam Sandler, Colin Farrell, Jessica Simpson, Anthony Hopkins, Robert De Niro, Don Cheadle, Dane Cook, Nicolas Cage, Eva Longoria, Carl Reiner, Rob Reiner, Rosario Dawson, The Rock, and a few others I can't remember. June 22.
Challenge of the GoBots
183 minutes
Steven Spielberg directs this epic remake of the classic animated series. In this, the Guardians and the Renegades are mysteriously transported to Earth when an asteroid travels dangerously close to Gobotron. Once there, Leader-1 (Patrick Stewart) befriends a plucky young reporter (Lindsay Lohan), who helps Turbo, Scooter, and the rest of the strange visitors know the true meaning of friendship. Meanwhile, Cy-Kill (Steve Buscemi) and the rest of the Renegades hold the world hostage by sneaking into the White House disguised as PT Cruisers and kidnapping President Carver (Dennis Quaid), along with his adorable young daughter Kelly (Apple Martin). Soundtrack includes the musical stylings of Coldplay, Nickelback, My Chemical Romance, John Williams, and Fergie. June 29.
Hors d'oeuvres
93 minutes
In Pixar's new animated spectacle, young Puffy (Cameron Bright) is a spirited little crab cake living with his family in the walk-in freezer of French caterer Jacques Fromage (Jean Reno). However, his life is turned upside down when his parents are taken away from him to be featured in a banquet for the Queen of England. With the help of his friends, Guido, the wise guy canape (Robert Iler), and Oinker, a corpulent yet loyal pig-in-a-blanket (Jonah Hill), Puffy embarks on a journey to save his family. Before their quest to the island across the Channel, the trio seeks advice from a wise old cheesecake, Succulo (Ian McKellen), on how to survive the hungry streets of London. July 6.
Pirates of the Caribbean: Legend of the Cursed Clan of the Four Fisted Ninja of Hamaratsu
278 minutes
In this sixth installment to the epic amusement ride, Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp), in order to find the Jewel of Eternal Irrelevance, finds himself in the South Indian Ocean near the small island of Abi Nokti. There, a whirlwind sucks the Black Pearl into an underwater wormhole, transporting him and his entire crew to the freezing North Sea. After finding Will (Orlando Bloom) and Elizabeth (Keira Knightley) in a small coastal town, and a 53 minute swordfight with the Nordic Viking clan, he seeks the help of a local Inuit tribe, which allows them to pass through the massive Sea Igloo of Hir-Tak-Tsor. This transports them back to Abi Nokti, but much to their dismay, the Jewel is missing. It appears the Igloo has sent them back to the 12th century! They go through the wormhole once again, but find themselves in Feudal Japan. There they come across the Cursed Clan of the Four Fisted Ninja of Hamaratsu. There Jack finds his Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandfather, clan leader Hanji Spariamu (comprised of Kirk Douglas stock footage and CGI). Will the trio ever get back to their time and recover the Jewel? You'll have to see the next film to find out! July 25.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(6)
I would like to wish Colin a happy birthday today. He's 21 and sexy. Lower your eyes and read his comic.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(0)
Yes, it might be suitable to subtitle Spider-Man 3 with something like "Every Which Way But Pudding" or "Dinosarmageddon," but I will purport that it's not that bad. However, it is still an action movie that I yelled at. The action scenes are good and the special effects are not notch which make the movie watch-able and, dare I say, even enjoyable. That said, making fun of a movie is much more entertaining than praising it so I'll get right to it.
The movie tries to do too much. Namely, it tries to put Sandman into more than zero frames of film. Sandman is a lame villain with a lame in-movie origin. Scientists are experimenting on sand. Clearly technological singularity will be brought about by exploring the silicon-oxygen bond via electrocuting sand with a tuning fork (This is when science didn't have to have any specific purpose). The experiment is being carried out at night and even though they have equipment to sense changes in the mass of sand being experimented on, their budget evidently did not include room for the high-tech equipment (such as a video camera or a window) to actually watch the experiment or to see that, no, a 200 lbs bird did not just land in your sandbox, it was, in fact, a beefy-faced man wearing the clearance rack from Gap.
So now Sandman can control sand. But instead of living a life of getting under peoples' contact lenses, ruining the potato salad at beach picnic and enjoying a lucrative partnership with the world's ant farm manufacturers as would more befit his powers, Sandman finds himself battling Spider-Man (and not over the perfect beach volleyball spot). Despite doing his best impersonation of The Mummy, Sandman leaves, defeated, by exploiting one of sand's more well-known properties: flight.
Joining Sandman in his unconvincing battle against Spider-Man is a disastrously-characterized Venom. I don't have anything against Topher Grace (except perhaps the obvious name thing) but he cannot get away from the fact that he is Eric Foreman. This translates into a Venom that seems scrawnier than Spider-Man himself and completely devoid of menace (phantom or otherwise).
Apart from that and Mary Jane being a nagging bitch throughout the entire movie, and the Osborn's butler's (who I think should be credited as D.E. Machina) Al Gore-like performance choice, and the strange choice of editing equipment, Spider-Man 3 is a decent movie.
Posted by Nathan - Comments(0)
I am pissed beyond words, so you will forgive any spelling and grammatical errors. i just spent $7.75 on a ticket to Spiderman 3 and i am going to drop some spoilers because i dont even fucking care. first of all Harry fucking dies, i don't care what it looks like 30 minutes later, he fucking died so don't fucking bring him back, because at the moment you bring him back, 45 minutes from the end, after watching the most painful 30 minutes of so called fucking cinema i am going to walk out of the theater because i simply cant fucking take how ridiculous this movie is!
preceding the moment harry comes back peter finds out his father was killed by thomas hayden church turns emo kills sand man and then KILLS FUCKING HARRY WITH A FUCKING GRENADE. then he gets even more emo and from there follows the most painfull montage i have ever seen followed by a scene of indescribable pain in a jazz club culminating in peter bitchslapping mary-jane across the face which had everyone in the theaters checking their watch. because clearly when you cant generate disdain for your character by making him look like a complete emo fucktard you should have him abuse some women. hey, while your at it why dont you have him go over to aunt em's nursing home and slap her around a little while sodomizeing children, maybe then we will know that we arent supposed to like peter. well after that he is simply fraught with guilt over what he had become so he went up on top of a church in a thunder storm for ultimate emo-effect and tore off his evil emo-suit, by the way if this is news to any of you just watch the trailer its pretty much all in there. but then the evil emo-suit falls on eric forman and calls him a dumbass and tells him to kill peter parker and not 2 seconds later the guy from sidways is magically fucking alive again- full of rage until he sees the locket of his daughter and is calmed like every fucking stereotypical good-guy villain. but now he has to kill peter, and foreman has turned into the lamest fucking venom i could have imagined its like they just didnt fucking care. now for some reason i sat through all this, and maybe the only reason why was because i always liked venom as a villain and i wanted to know what he was going to look like, but i swear if they had showed me that in the preview i wouldnt have even bothered. and for god knows what reason i sat through kirsten dunst with her brand new tooth job get kidnapped for the umpteenth time and the one joy i had was thinking that harry wasnt going to come back. then those mother fuckers for no god damned reason, out of the fucking blue, without even a single hint of foreshadowing and with not a care for continuity brought back a fucking pristine conditioned harry looking like he just hopped out of the bloody shower in the morning and peter just needed him so fucking bad to fight both thomas hayden church and eric foreman, and i walked out. so fuck you sam raimi. fuck you casting your brother in all of your movies, fuck you for thinking that we would find bruce campbell funny in yet another cameo. fuck you for your miserable writing, your god awful directing and your complete and utter inabilty to edit. fuck you for not knowing a damn thing about film and fuck you for getting good reviews. reviews from people who have no idea what good film making is.
spiderman 3 makes star wars episode one look like the seven samurai. and it made me want to drown things.
Posted by Colin Gray - Comments(3)
This is REALLY old news (practically prehistoric), but I was abroad and unable to receive regular mail so fuck you. When I got back to the States, Nathan's Christmas present was waiting for me, and let me just said it's a doozy.
Yay for Slacker-Central-themed computer accessories! The new(ish) logo looks even more fantastic when it isn't confined to a t-shirt sleeve. Thanks a million for the gift, Nathan. Check the mail for your complimentary slice of cheese.
If you would like your own Slacker-Central mouse pad, do the same thing Nathan did and make it yourself. Then send us a check for $8.95 or we'll sue your asses off.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(0)
Today is an auspicious date in history. Most associate April 20th with Hitler's birthday, the Columbine massacre, and the always popular 420 (when potheads do the same thing they do every day, but yell "WHOOOOO 420 WHOOOOOO!!!!!" while doing it). But did you know that this date is famous for many other reasons as well? Here's a list of historic events that occurred on 4/20:
13 A.D. - Jesus of Nazareth finishes constructing his first apothecary table.
1689 - The deposed King James II attempts to lay siege on Derry in the Irish province of Ulster. The citizens of Derry counter his attack by closing the gates and calling him a "feckin' egit."
1699 - The last Dodo bird is killed when, in a futile attempt to save its own species, it tries to have sex with a snapping turtle.
1896 - At Adolf Hitler's 7th birthday party, a Jewish family friend gives the young Fuhrer a dreidel instead of something cool, thus inciting a legacy of hate, persecution, and genocide the world had never seen before. Thanks Neva Kamzoil.
1904 - A joyous occasion! Cotton Candy is inadvertently discovered when a tornado hits the Winston-Kuppill Sugar Factory in Janesburg, North Dakota. Four people are killed.
1979 - Jimmy Carter is attacked by a rabid killer swimming swamp rabbit (Yes, this actually happened).
1992 - British comedian Benny Hill dies suddenly of a heart attack after a frantic chase through a number of absurdly humorous locations. Onlookers blame the silly, frenetic trumpet soundtrack accompanying the chase as the reason for its ludicrously fatal pace.
2001 - Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles premieres, allowing Paul Hogan to pay his rent, buy some groceries, and fill up his '96 Pontiac Sunfire with $8.36 worth of gas.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(2)
When the art-form of moving pictures was still in its infancy, those select few who chose to embrace this new technology did so with a refreshing, rebellious impetuosity. These tinkerers--come to be known later as "filmmakers"--grabbed their shiny new Cinematographs and heedlessly captured whatever images they could. Pioneers such as the Lumiere Brothers, George Melies, Edwin Porter, and D.W. Griffith cared little about plot progression or character development. They only wanted to capture their vision in the most exciting and stimulating way possible.
Nowadays, there is nary a film that earnestly seeks to emotionally, spiritually, or physically move its audience. In Hollywood's attempt to make a traditionally "good" movie--complete with a logical story, likable characters, proper editing, and a satisfying conclusion--directors have forgotten what it means to feel.
Thankfully, Fort Wayne's own Boniface Studios remembers the medium's original intention. Their repertoire of low-budget shorts have garnered them popularity within small social circles. With their first film endeavor, heretoafter known as Lopez: The Movie, the filmmakers sought to express the raw triviality of the genre itself. The end result is a frenzied whirlwind of images and sounds that leaves its audience emotionally drained and physically satiated.
Boniface continued this tradition with other film outings. From their surreal and brooding Lost in Aberdeen (inspired by the films of Martin Runningdeer and the historical fiction of Howard Zinn) to the epic Shank's End trilogy (the third and final film, Loose Ends: Shank Resurrection, is currently in post-production).
However, no Boniface film has so wholly affected its audience quite as much as Snow Pink. Originally envisioned as a new take on the old fairytale, Pink quickly devolves into so much more.
Snow Pink's glorious title page.
The story starts out simply enough. The Wicked Bitch of the West consults her two wooden oracles as to who is the "fairest fairy of them all." Expecting the pair to name her, she approaches the request with a confident zeal. However, she is shot down not once, but twice by the wise, lumbering behemoths. "IT IS THE PINK ONE" thunders both. The Bitch is mortified. How can her sworn enemy be fairer than she?
The Bitch is horror-stricken by the Large One's prophesy.
Unsatisfied with their responses, The Bitch goes to "interrogate the Dangerous Faggot." During this confrontation, The Bitch instructs The Faggot to kill The Pink One.
"I'd be happy to."
The Faggot does as The Bitch asks, but instead of backing out at the last minute, he does so immediately after he does the dirty deed, slicing The Pink One across her bulbous chest. The Pink One reacts accordingly; stumbling about the area screeching a guttural, repetitious "oh my" and gobbling up various deli meats from her large chest injury. In a panic, she runs outside and falls over nothing, gracefully planting herself in front of the building.
She wakes up forty years later to the annoying patter of a spandex-laden dwarf who is actually a normal height by any standards. The dwarf--one of four--is eager to help the fallen fairy but is unsure how to do so.
"Oh my."
The film gets a little confusing at this point. The Pink One eats a lot of indiscernible objects. The Bitch disguises herself as the "Good Bitch of the South" (as well as altering her voice for no reason), and gives The Pink One a golden poison apple. Also, there's something about a river or a lake.
Eventually, a now elderly Dangerous Faggot contemplates his existence as a homosexual, and wonders why he could not complete the deed so many years ago. He also calls himself the "Scary Faggot," creating futher confusion as to his true identity.
"Why couldn't I do it?"
After much consternation and gnashing of teeth, he comes to a groundbreaking realization: he's not gay! He wants to shout it from the rooftops, but instead decides to seek revenge on the one who made him think he was. Lucky for him, his target enters the room at that very moment. The Bitch looks at him with overbearing disgust, as if the "Faggot" (a gay man no longer, opting for the title of "Prince Charming") were somehow below her. He gets his revenge, however, as two almost simultaneous shots to the fupa render The Bitch no more. The Prince celebrates his victory by coming to his princess, the ever-beautiful Pink One.
While the plot is grotesque and nearly indiscernible, one thing comes to mind while watching Snow Pink: it makes you feel. Granted, the feelings expressed are typically anger, disgust, and confusion, but it exploits these emotions for all they're worth. For those unwilling to immerse themselves in this surreal fantasy-world, a partial viewing is more than enough. Yet, like sitting on a caramel apple during a hot summer morn, the film sticks with you. Once the hustle and bustle of the day's activities die down, Snow Pink returns to your psyche with frenzied ardency. It won't leave. The only way to satisfy this unremitting succubus is to watch it again. And again. And again. Until you've memorized each desultory line to the point of madness. You start cackling in your sleep about the stupidest of things. If anyone asks you what the hell you're howling about, you can't give them a reasonable answer, because you don't even know yourself. You try to analyze it academically, painstakingly transcribing the words so that they may somehow reveal their genius on paper. It helps a bit, but never really gets at the core of its brilliance (you can try it for yourself by downloading the partial screenplay). Eventually you succumb to its idiocy, curling up into the fetal position and spending the rest of your days in a padded room, repeating to yourself "oh my... oh my... oh MYYYYYYYYY!"
But a cursory description or halfhearted analysis is not enough. One has to experience it to fully understand. Thankfully, Snow Pink has made its Internet debut right here on Slacker-Central. Feel free to follow this link to Google Video, or view the embedded film below (NSFW, as if I had to tell you that).
For more information please check out the Boniface Studios Facebook Group, or inquire about the film on the Slacker-Central forum.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(2)
After a long respite I've decided to return and actually finish this segment of WACKY pictures that I've taken while in Ireland. I spent some time in London and Amsterdam over spring break, garnering even more silliness, but I'll hold off on that until people continue not to post and I once again get frustrated with the lack of front page updates and write another slapdash entry full of sarcasm and normal photographs placed slightly out of context.
This fortnight, I will be covering graffiti and other magical writings on public property. I have an inherent fascination with graffiti, be it artistically detailed and expansive, or a pithy nothing-phrase that some jackhole scrawled next to the urinal of the public toilet in the park. Let's get this over with.
Graffiti, and Other Things I Probably Shouldn't Be Wasting My Time Taking Pictures Of
I took this in Kilmainham Gaol. I just like the idea of walking through a prison, where so many people were shut up, tortured, and executed, and your first inclination is to let everyone know who your BEST FRIEND 4EVA is. That's friendship right there.
One would assume that another individual added the "not" to this entry, but I like to think of it another way. Here's what I think went down:
The author wants to make a statement; to let the world know that yes, gay sex is okay. He wants to shout it from the rooftops, but instead settles on a little recalcitrant vandalism. After finishing up, he walks down the street with an inflated sense of accomplishment, sauntering down the road, grin on face and hands in pockets.
Then he hears something. It's a bunch of guys drinking in an alley. A normal gathering of local youths, except for the words spewing forth from their mouths. "Fag," "queer," "homo," "fanny-bandit," "butt pirate," and the like. Who knows why their conversation centers on varied and creative slurs for gay people. The point is, it's shocking.
Suddenly the man becomes scared. Maybe the world isn't ready for his public declaration. In an instant, he sprints back to his work and, hand jittery from fear, adds a reluctant "not" to the message. He takes a deep breath and skitters off a little safer, but the self-censorship never completely sits well with him. It haunts him for the rest of his life. That is, of course, until he eventually takes his own life.
Meta.
"Hi Hitler, how's it going? I just talked to Cheryl down at accounting and she said you had some of those little multi-colored Post-It bookmarks that I love to use. I was wondering if I could borrow one turquoise and three peach ones. I need to make some marks in the latest RISK management survey for Jeffries upstairs. Just let me know. Theenks, bye!"
Not really graffiti. This was a flyer someone handed to me about a protest in front of the American Embassy. Here's a little tip if you ever want to start a rebellious political organization: make sure the name of the person you're protesting is spelled correctly. I know it's an innocent type-o, but "Georpge Bush" made me lose all hope of legitimacy for this group. Sorry.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(2)
As some of you might be aware, I am spending this semester studying in Dublin. For the month that I've been here thus far, friends and family have asked me time and time again for pictures pertaining to my actions. This is a reasonable request, as I recently acquired a new digital camera, which allows me the freedom to instantly snap pictures of whatever strikes my fancy. In many cases, this consists of architecturally fascinating churches and cathedrals, expansively verdant landscape, and historically significant buildings and statues.
As beautiful and awe-inspiring these may be, in a world of globalization, bunker buster bombs, Match.com, hover cars, and food in pill-form, people are BORED by these. I may as well just send them a postcard.
How can I show them something unique? Something dazzling? Something they've never seen before?
I KNOW! I'll take pictures so mundane, minuscule, and minor, there's no chance that they've ever seen it. How can I show them something both mundane and unique, you ask? Simple. By placing them slightly out of context and adding captions. Let's take a look, won't we?
Weird-Ass Signs 'n Shit!
First of all, that boy doesn't look like a boy. His head is large and man-like. If anything, he's a midget or dwarf or little person or whatever they want to be called now. I'm reminded of Master Billy Quiz-Boy, with his head full of water and brains.
Second, he's touching that little girl very inappropriately, like he's about to flip her around and strike her across the face with his Knightrider lunchbox. In fact, I bet it's no lunchbox at all, but a toolbox full of rusty nails and poison darts. You bastard.
Third, it looks like he's hovering.
I'm just a fan of literalism. And exposed skin.
I'm not so jingoistic that I believe the United States has a monopoly on all things Abraham Lincoln. If we can exploit other nationalities and customs with Lucky Charms, Burger King and the Cleveland Indians, they can take potshots at our national heroes. But driving school? I don't see the connection. "Four score and seven years ago, our forefathers taught their foresons how to parallel park."
I suppose one could argue that Lincoln was the DRIVING force behind the destruction of slavery, and slavery could be an analogy for a teenager's inability to drive. Emancipating oneself from the shackles of home life? That sounds about right.
I know the suit's right behind the sign, but I still think that's an "h".
Out of all the sign pictures, this one confuses me the most. Ignore the "fag" at the top (grow up) and focus on the picture in the bottom right corner. I know it's just a stupid little drawing not-to-scale, but the robber broke the windshield in order to get at the briefcase? On top of that, the hole is way too small to allow the case to get through. This leads me to two conclusions. Either, a) it's a magical shape-shifting briefcase (in which case I can understand why he stole it), or b) he jimmied the door open, and broke the windshield just to be an asshole.
I'll be back in a couple days to comment on Ireland's ample and colorful graffiti. Let's come back, won't we?
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(4)
Last night was a night just like any other night. It was night. It was dark. It was night.
That night, I had been resting on the couch, as if that night were any other night.
But it wasn't any other night.
I sat up from the leather couch in order to get something to eat, when I suddenly stopped and looked at my former sitting location. There was an image in the leather of the couch. At first it looked like nothing, but upon closer inspection, it became clear.
The Virgin Mary appeared to me in my butt imprint.
I gazed at the image, wondering what it could possibly mean. A blessing? A curse? A sign of the Apocalypse? A completely arbitrary collection of folds and creases? No, it's something much bigger. For me, at least.
I don't want to say this makes me some sort of holy man--a prophet, if you will. It's nothing like that at all. But it does make me... better than you. This sacred visage puts me on the fast track to heaven. I know it's not fair, but death is just as unfair as life. You're just going to have to deal with it.
So while you're all working your asses off trying to keep in God's good graces, mine has already done the work for me.
Thanks ass. Thass.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(0)
Saw The Descent the other night, and I thought the director--Englishman Neil Marshall--made some pretty cool choices insofar as the "cinematographer" thread is concerned. No wide, sweeping shots or anything, just an extremely well-done sense of claustrophobia and darkness.
In the opening 40 minutes.
Then the movie turns so wickedly stupid I shot Cherry Coke out of my nose laughing. Do you know how much that hurts? The little bubbles are millions of tiny explosions of white pain in a mostly black world. Horrid.
The characters speak in an almost indistinguishable English slurry. I say "slurry" because the word "accent" doesn't seem to fit a process by which people open their mouths and let a language spill out onto the floor.
Then comes the implausibility of an entire clan of carnivorous orc-people living under the earth for hundreds of years. How many people do you know who go spelunking? I mean seriously... think about this. Maybe 1/4 of our number on this forum have been to places like Mammouth Cave in Kentucky, and even though I know a lot of out-doorsy people, I really don't know any who go around wedging themselves into crevasses a mile under the earth on any regular basis. How, then, does this species of underground man keep itself alive? Can they gain nourishment from the crushing, all-too-palpable failure of their own creators?
FAILURE TASTES LIKE CHICKEN!
I would guess so, or perhaps they can crawl out through a plot-hole and head over to KFC for some Extra Crispy action. In any case, we are to believe from the staggering plentitude of bones that these little hobgoblins have killed hundreds if not thousands of people over the years.
Fine. Whatever. Suspension of disbelief.
At this point I was far enough through the movie to just decide to stick it out and see if it goes anywhere. It doesn't. The characters do some screaming, some more talking in their impenetrable gutter-speak, and someone gets stabbed in the throat with a pick-axe. Speaking of the characters in general: they were well-defined and believable. Wait, no they weren't. They were one-dimensional and there to fill out a role in the pantheon of horror movie cliches.
From left to right: The "Ballsy" one, The "Strong Underneath" one, The "One Who Dies" one, The "One We See In The Shower" one, The "Gods of Perdition She Has A Compound Fracture" one, and of course The "Older Leader" one.
I think what I'm getting at here is that you should save your freaking time and just watch Alien again. It's better, you won't be confused by stupidity, and you won't have Cherry Coke all over your shirt.
Posted by Grant - Comments(0)
Aside from the long-awaited comic post, Slacker-Central's front page has been largely devoid of any sort of epic Internet controversy. However, I've learned that some entertainment comes from where you least expect it.
Last semester, I was in a class on documentary film. One of the assignments was to write a paper and viewing guide on a particular film covered in class. I chose to write on Loose Change, a low-budget, Internet-exclusive, agitprop documentary asserting that the United States government was behind the attacks on September 11th. Let's highlight some of its claims:
- The Pentagon was hit by a missile.
- Flight 93 was redirected to Cleveland, where its passengers were removed and cell phone calls professionally fabricated.
- The Twin Towers fell as the result of a controlled implosion to mask the transfer of $167 billion of gold.
These claims were researched by a Neo-Nazi, compiled by a self-aggrandizing jackass, and believed by morons.
Despite my strong opinions on the film, I thought I wrote a fairly even-handed and academic essay about Loose Change's manipulative use of mise-en-scene (a fancy word for "visual choices"). The papers and viewing guides were published online, and the final stipulation of the assignment was to post the links on various forums and websites of interest.
I decided to post it on the Loose Change's official forums.
The thread went up on December 16th with little interest. One member came in to point out that all seven papers on Loose Change were decidedly negative (with is typical when critiquing a shitty movie) and I responded with a rather tepid and fair-minded appeal towards discussion.
This is when it got interesting.
Tepidity and fair-mindedness went out the window when, on December 24th, Dylan Avery--the director, editor and narrator of this hideous atrocity of a film--decided to voice his opinion on the papers:
"invented information"? "mis-en-scene"? LIGHTING? you guys are in way over your heads...
mise-en-scene?
look man, throwing around fancy film school terms does NOT make you an authority on the matter.
i have a question. what have YOU kids done? it's easy to throw insults and ad hominem attacks, but your guides fall very short on actually tackling the evidence presented.
Okay, so much for a rational discussion on his methods. It appears that it was, as the kids say, "on." It isn't often that I get to flamewar with an Internet "celebrity" of such magnitude, so I couldn't pass up this early Christmas present. I responded in kind:
What have I done? Was a viewing guide and essay not enough for you? You want me to hold your hand through the process? I promise not to use big words like "mise-en-scene" (it's okay, you can use "ad hominem" all you want. How about "reductio ad absurdum"? Or "semper ubi sub ubi"?). I guess I'm not worthy of an opinion unless I cobble together copyrighted material and sell it online for personal gain.
ZING! That's like seven Internet points for me.
The director's the douche bag in this picture. No, the other one. No, the one on the right. There you go.
LC forum member Starbelly decided to defend Loose Change and its Golden-God creator:
All the film school credentials, certificates and jargon boasted by these type of people count for nothing in the real world. How many of you will achieve anything on the scale of Loose Change? I'd put 10 bucks on none.
Regardless you agree with the information or not. Show a little respect where respect is due.
A solid argument. It was an unexpected tactic to attack the boasting of my "film school credentials" and "certificates," considering I have none and never did anything of the sort. I skipped that one and respond to his second plea:
Soooo if something is marginally popular on the Internet, I am obligated to respect it? In that case, I'll go ahead and respect Tubgirl, Goatse, and Lemon Party. A bunch of people clicked on those links, therefore it is a respectable form of artistic expression.
Another Internet point for me. By this time in the argument, I think it's Nick: 10, Dylan Avery and the Klu Klux Krazies: 8.
LOOK GUYS IT'S BLUE! THAT'S MEANS THE GOVERNMENT DID IT!
Avery caught wind of my biting retort, and brought out the big guns:
you're almost banned, smart-ass. keep it up.
i never "deliberately misled" my audience. i made a movie, on my laptop, in my spare time, and people started liking it. now, it's insanely popular for some reason, and I now have to tolerate snotty little college know-it-alls such as yourself who believe they actually know who I am.
end, of, story.
Oh my! So many commas! They must hand those out when you're so "insanely popular" on the Internet. I better watch my back, as well as my nose, since it's apparently getting very snotty.
I'm not even three years younger than you. I don't think you're in a position to lord over me just because your movie has gotten some attention. That's like William Hung getting a superiority complex because he made an album.
end; of? story!
Nick: 14. KKKrazies: 9.
Result: I win at the Internet.
Overall, the thread is massively entertaining. I only included the highlights, but there are a number of little gems that went under the radar. I invite you to read the entire thing to get the full brunt of its idiocy.
Oh, and happy New Year.
Posted by Nick Nobel - Comments(1)
With Christmas rapidly approaching I decided to determine just how rapidly Christmas was approaching. To make this highly scientific and not at all made-up measurement I first considered the point of view needed. At first pass it would seem that each day moves us one day closer to Christmas and that Christmas approaches at the same speed no matter what day of the year it is. This turns out to be the totally wrong point of view and if you think that you hate children, America, and baby Jesus. Instead, we must compound the time remaining until Christmas daily, like a delightful yuletide reverse interest rate. This way each day removes an ever-increasing fraction off of the Christmas countdown. For example, as December 26th passes, it removes 1/364th of the total number of days until Christmas. Likewise, December 27th removes 1/363rd and so on until December 23rd of the next year removes 1/2 of the remaining days and Christmas Eve removes the last day (1/1 of the days remaining). Therefore, by using these fractions we can determine how fast Christmas is approaching on any given day of the year. Christmas day itself has an undefined speed of 1/0 under this system, but it's not really a problem because we're not interested in the speed something is approaching when it's actually here.
Below is a graph of the speed of Christmas normalized to 100 knots (the
