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Dance Floor Exhaustion's Journal [entries|friends|calendar]
Dance Floor Exhaustion

[ website | Mechadrake ]
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[29 Sep 2014|06:36pm]
In about half an hour, I have to do a thing on the phone. The prospect of "You have to make a phone call" makes me a wreck for hours beforehand. It hangs over my head like that one sword, uh, what's it called [looks it up] Sword of Damocles. Huh. I don't think that metaphor works in this case, but screw it, I'm taking it.

THE THINGS I DO FOR LOVE MONEY.

I hate the phone. Actually, I hate listening to disembodied voices. I can't stand talk shows or podcasts. I'm fine with songs, though. Go figure.

Ironically, I'm also good on the phone. I did tonnes of reception work when I worked in Petsmart's grooming salon, and I rarely had issues. I've done other reception work too and have been told I have a good phone manner. Harumph, yes, quite.

Maybe it's a bit like saying "I hate dogs," but your blood smells like bacon so they cosy up to you all the time. Another bad metaphor. I always keep a supply handy!
2 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[18 Sep 2014|05:45pm]
"Welcome back to Livejournal, woekitten! You wanted your language settings set permanently to espanol, right?"

...Yeah, sure. Why not.
3 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

"No, I have grey eyes." "...Let me see that sheet." [04 Jan 2014|03:02am]
I was only recently made aware of this clip from some 700 Club program titled "Teens Sucking Dragon Dicks for Satan."*

(*Not actual program title)



Whoof. This is pretty great. I've only played Dungeons and Dragons once, but I think there's enough here for me to break out the point form:

-What kind of shitty DM instantly kills their players without allowing for a saving roll? In a real game, Captain Triple-K Conehead would be dead of Cheetos-inflicted stab wounds. Somehow.

-"You are. No more." [hand gesture]

-So D&D involves randomly shuffling pewter figurines rescued from the Salvation Army around a map? Not how I remember it, but all right.

-Speaking of, is our destined babykiller actually playing as a pegasus? Damn, if I'd known that's allowed, I'd have ditched that crummy half-elf I rolled up (sorry, Hawkmoon).

-"I am now Lord of the Little People." That's the best you can do? Your mother and I are very ashamed of you.

-Hey DM, can you explain how the blood exchange works? Like, do we pour the kidnapped kid's blood all over the map? ("Oh no, the snack table!")

-I am loving the faceless bouncers that mill in the shadows, drop their hands on the shoulders of disgraced players, and show them out -- or worse.

Finally:

DM: "The game goes on. Roll."

DESTINED BABYKILLER: "I have reached the deepest depths."

DM: [Dramatically turns over a chunk of pages in his dictionary playbook]
1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[31 Dec 2013|09:53am]
Our apartment is by the garbage chute, unfortunately, which causes some interesting odours to waft into our private lives at the very beginning of the week.

It's like:

Monday: Fine.
Tuesday: Fine.
Wednesday: Fine.
Thursday: Fine.
Friday: Fine.
Saturday: Fine.
Sunday: STINK.

I guess it's cause the garbage people are like, "We ain't pickin' up no garbage on Saturday, AAAAY-YO!"

Bonus info: One of my previous jobs involved me hosing down garbage compactors in a busy mall. It wasn't too bad - until you hit the foot court's compactor. If you were having an especially unlucky day, the food court staff would start chucking down bags in the middle of the process and you'd get splattered with cold coffee and pizza crusts.

When I look back on things, as planet earth tends to do on New Year's Eve, I realise I've led an interesting life, for better or worse!
5 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Red Gems, Please. [05 Dec 2013|05:07am]
whatifoundthere recently shared some magnificent insight on Papers, Please, "A Dystopian Document Thriller." Papers, Please is a time-management game of sorts that you "play" as a border guard for a grim, grey eastern European country at the height of the Cold War. True to life, corruption and bribery abound, and there is no right or wrong way to get through the game. Though, most of the choices you make lead to endings wherein you're imprisoned or executed. Glory to Arstotzka.

As was pointed out by women much wiser than myself, it is nearly impossible to play as a "good guy" in Papers, Please. If you follow the admittance rules to the letter, you inevitably wind up separating families and imprisoning good people. If you don't follow the rules, your pay is docked, making it much harder to take care of your perpetually sick, cold, and hungry relatives. By the way, if your relatives all die, you're fired for failing to maintain the image of a robust family. Glory to Etc.

Anyway, Papers, Please got me thinking about how few games foist gut-wrenching choices upon you. Sure, you can be "good" or "bad," or you can just put a bucket on the shopkeeper's head and rob him blind while he yacks about his wife instead of calling the authorities. But how many games have made you seriously pause and say, "Well, shit?" I can think of one off the top of my head, and it's a weird bird: Illusion of Gaia for the Super Nintendo.

Colourful though it may be, Illusion of Gaia is a grim little game. It's the second title in Enix's likely-dead Soulblazer series. I believe chronologically, the first game is Terranigma, which details the birth (rebirth?) of Planet Earth courtesy of the game's hero, Ark. Illusion of Gaia comes next in the timeline, and best I can tell, evolution and progress have stagnated thanks in part to an evil comet that's shadowing the planet and stifling the human race.

In a word, Illusion of Gaia is melancholy, though it relays its dark bits through its environments and events rather than dialogue. Bad things happen to good people, particularly in the alleys of the town called Freejia (the translation for IOG is, uh, not good). Freejia is a showy tourist town, but it's also a showcase for child slaves, which is pretty heavy shit for an SNES game.

Now, the path to saving the world is never straight in an RPG, and in addition to killing Mr Asshole Comet, Illusion of Gaia also charges you with collecting "Red Gems" on the side. There are 50 Red Gems, and you need every single one to receive your rewards. Collecting Gems is optional, but also necessary for certain restorative items and permanent stat boosts that can't be gotten elsewhere.

Most Gems can be found in pots, in bins, or by completing certain tasks. And one of those tasks, is, uh, to rat out a slave who's in hiding.

No, really: There's a young boy who ran away from his masters just before he was set to go on the auction block. He begs Will to keep his location a secret. Sure, easy enough -- until you find the slave master who promises to reward you if you give him any information about the missing kid.

There is no other way to get this particular Gem. Either you squeal and receive an irreplaceable payment, or you clam up and miss out on a valuable item. It's a tiny part of the game, but holy moly it made an impact on me.

(By the way, the game makes no secret of the fact the kids are shipped off to a diamond mine to be worked to death. Yay for video game parallels to shitty real-world situations! Also, if you don't believe Illusion of Gaia has some of the greatest music composed for the SNES, you are silly.)

Going back to Papers, Please for a second, what a strange, wonderful age of gaming we live in when an indie title that displays fewer colours than an old Windows 3.1 game can make such an impact.
6 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[24 Oct 2013|06:01am]
Hi LJ! Let me tell you about my stupid crazy busy life. I'm writing like mad and very much chained to my desk. Insert simile about monkeys and typewriters. These days I'm primarily adding bytes to Pocket Gamer, Gamezebo, Android Shock, and as of September, I've been About.com's Guide to the Nintendo 3/DS for four years! *Confetti*

Incidentally, my most popular article on that site is a sort-of jokey thing I wrote for Halloween last year about Pokemon's Lavender Town Syndrome. WARNING: MAY B 2SPOOPY 4 U.

I'm also writing for a game. Like, writing. For a game. Like, story, characters, locations. I came up with some country names, and the devs put it all on a map. And it was like, "Holy moly, I made up those names!"

...I wish I was better at making up names.

Seriously though, been utilizing a lot of Hebrew and Hungarian. If I'm going to appropriate cultures (as fantasy material is aces at doing), I may as well appropriate my own.

As for my own work, I am this close --->||<--- to finishing the second draft of my novel. Stitching together the third draft shouldn't take nearly as long as the second draft has, and from there I'm going to submit it for some hardcore editing. From there, it's off to a thousand slush piles!

Moving away from writing for a second (but only for a second, since I'll starve to death if I stop for an extended period of time), my older brother caused some panic amongst my clansmen and women when a huge tumour was discovered on his spine. It's gone now, thanks to the magic of surgery, and everything's aces.

Come the start of November, it'll be my turn for surgery, though it's nothing nearly as dire. Last year I blogged a bit about how I've been feeling kind of wretched at points, and it turns out a lot of my symptoms line up with endometriosis. Diagnostic surgery is the only way to determine whether or not I have this dumb disease, so that's what's going on.

So. what're you doing this weekend? What? Living life to its fullest? You lie. You're going to watch the Sonic Lost World first play marathon running from noon Saturday to noon Sunday. David's hosting it along with Ian Flynn, the current author of the Sonic and Mega Man Archie comics. I'll be helping out and/or getting in everyone's way.

Do watch, though. The raffle prizes are as RAD as BALLS.

BAAAAALLS.
4 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring bananas phone [21 Sep 2013|09:12am]
I don't have kids, so maybe I shouldn't be commenting on stuff that involves raising kids, but I dunno. The Internet is currently jizzing itself over sensei Louis CK's revelation that he's never going to let his kids have smartphones, and I think that stance is, well, kind of horse shit?

I understand the position of not letting your kids have smartphones until they've proven themselves responsible enough to take one on, and I definitely agree with yanking it away and beating them over the head with it if they use their new power for evil instead of good. I also agree with taking away anything that interferes with a kid's schoolwork, even though I fall on my knees daily and thank God that I never have to go to school ever again. But I think utterly denying your kids of Product X does not automatically enrich them as human beings.

How many of you '80s-'90s kids out there had friends who were never allowed to partake in whatever the media was fretting about at the time, like The Simpsons, Ren & Stimpy, Nintendo, or just TV in general? How many of those friends grew up to be great scholars of the new millennium who'd managed to achieve a higher form of knowledge?

Now, how many of those friends just grew up into okay people that operate at same level of decency and intelligence as the rest of us?

My parents didn't allow VCRs in the house because they didn't want us to watch the same movies over and over. Understandable, but not having a VCR actually proved to be a major inconvenience as far as my schoolwork went. I also feel like I missed out on some great movies at the height of their popularity, and my parents' fears were unfounded because sitting and watching hours and hours of TV was never in my character.

In the same vein, I imagine things must be pretty inconvenient for a 13+-year-old* who's not allowed to own a smartphone because dad went on TV and said they're bad. New tech drips into our lives, and there's not a whole lot we can do to stanch the flow. If you say, "Smartphones are terrible and stifle our ability to communicate with one another," you may as well go down the line and check off everything else that supposedly robs us of face-to-face communication. Sooner or later you're going to get to novels (which enjoyed their own searing day in the Spotlight of Shame--consider Henry Beamis and Time Enough at Last) and then electricity, period. Before the advent of electric light, people commonly woke up in the middle of the night to pray, take a walk, or talk to neighbours. Now we sleep for eight hours at a time, and socialization has suffered! I guess.

--

*I have no idea how old CK's kids are. I think 13 would be a good age for a kid to have a smartphone, but his interview with Conan indicates he never plans to let 'em have one, so I guess their age is irrelevant.
9 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[15 Sep 2013|06:02am]
I took away three things from Hebrew school: Two of the clearest, most beautiful images ever burnt into my head (more on that in a bit, but just saying up front that neither of them have to do with the wisdom of the Torah or the knowledge of our scholars), and a love for the stories in Genesis.

I know very little about the Sunday school experience minus what David and my friends have told me about it, but from what I can gather, Jews teach the Old Testament differently than Christians. Jews open up very passage for possible interpretation. The more, the better. Hence, the Gemara (not to be confused with Gamera). As a result, I took away different lessons from the Bible than my Christian buds. i.e., the Garden of Eden fuckup was less about sin and disobedience and more about Adam and Eve (Chava) passing the blame onto each other instead of just admitting they'd done wrong.

I also learnt a lot about the role of the raven on Noah's ark, and it seems the little dude gets overlooked in a lot of Christian tellings of the deluge. Before Noah sent a dove to check the water levels, he sent out a raven. The raven hovered around the Ark, however, because he thought Noah was going to steal his mate.* Noah said "DUDE. WHACK," for obvious reasons. The story serves as a metaphor for paranoia, basically. More on that here.

No point to this, I guess, other than to highlight the fact Christian kids learnt about Christ's love and I learnt about Noah being accused of effing a raven.

AND NOW, TWO STORIES ABOUT AMAZING MENTAL IMAGERY.

1) I went to English school during the day, and Hebrew school in the evening a few nights a week. It was as thrilling as it sounds. The kids in my classes were inevitably tired, hungry, cranky, and they lashed out as a result. On my very first day, two kids peered into our classroom from outside (we had a basement classroom). They returned a few minutes later wearing gorilla masks, and proceeded to bang on our windows while screaming. It was amazing.

2) One evening, my Hebrew teacher walked into our classroom with a big smile on her face. Someone whipped a piece of chalk at her. It bounced off her forehead and her smile instantly transformed into a scowl. I'm still in awe that I was privileged enough to witness what was essentially a cartoon moment come to life.

--

*Though they never went into graphic detail, my Hebrew teachers didn't cut out the racier parts of the Bible. They couldn't; if you cut all the sex and violence out of the Old Testament, you're left with two pages about assholes riding donkeys across the desert or some shit. I was too young to "get" most of it anyway.
5 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

That woman probably shouldn't be teaching at that school. [09 Sep 2013|05:53am]
A Twitter exchange drove me to check out the music video for Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" for the first time in, like, ten million years.



The video's fuckin' weird to begin with. But watching it now and taking in all its shirtless, ghostly winged angels, ninjas, wrestlers, swimmers, and school boys makes me realise,

Holy shit,

the "Total Eclipse of the Heart" video is a softcore anime yaoi crossover, and it existed decades before DeviantArt or Fanfiction.net came into being.

2 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[30 Aug 2013|07:18am]
A thing I was thinking of (oh no! Run!!):

Men sometimes bitch about how we bitches are always bitchin' about being bitches. And it's like, yeah, I guess I can see why that'd be tiresome.

But then I think back to some of my earliest memories, like hearing about how baby girls in certain countries are killed or abandoned because people want boys instead. Or, closer to home, a block of dick cheese opens fire on women in a university because they have the audacity to be female.

An event like that really sticks with you when you're a nine year old girl and going to school yourself, you know? Obviously, kids today have to hear about people shooting up schools at random which is as sad and scary as fuck, but there's something particularly nightmare-inducing about the possibility of dying specifically because you're a girl/woman.

That's my daily deep thought before I run out and battle with rush hour traffic.
2 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[22 Aug 2013|02:53pm]
Author celebrates the supposed death of "traditional publishing"

Author subsequently self-publishes a generic fantasy novel brimming with amateurish writing mistakes.

Author also runs a blog claiming Obama will kill us all, but that's a horse of a different colour.
1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Go talk to the Planet, Aeris McTalky-Face. [03 Aug 2013|01:24am]
I'm playing Final Fantasy VII on Steam. Despite having played this game a thousand times, I still cannot find my way around Cosmo Fucking Canyon (yes, that is the official name, the Elders said so).

Like, right now, I'm seriously hurt but I can't find the town's stupid Inn. I'm just going in circles.

According to the little voices in my head, this is what the party members are currently saying to each other:

AERIS: "Cloud, I thought you said we're going to stay at the Inn here."

CLOUD: "...No. Forget it. I hear the beds have bedbugs."

AERIS: "The beds here are all made of stone and wood. How could they have bedbugs?"

CLOUD: "Because! The thingy is...shut up!"
3 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[26 Jul 2013|06:53am]
I think Tumblr is a digital incarnation of a class clown's best audience. You know how that one kid would throw an eraser out the window and we'd all laugh our assess off like we'd witnessed the invention of comedy? Tumblr's a bit like that:

Person: [Posts an amusing picture]

Popular Response: "hELP I CAN'T BREATHE I'M LAUGHING SO HARD OMG"

Chill, man. It's a .gif of a cat falling off a table.

I suppose I just ought to soak in the youthful exuberance.

Now that you've read my dumb complaint, go ahead and read something that's just dumb: Chapter 38 of Trip Through Your Wires.
4 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[07 Jul 2013|08:45pm]


Sagan's last words and moment of death revealed.
1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[22 Jun 2013|11:30pm]


Samus> okay did America ever have an anime in the early '80s that was based off The Fables of the Green Forest? It was a thing in Canada, on public access TV

December> I think I remember Fables.

Samus> 12: Yeah it was on TV Ontario, so I imagine Alberta had it on cheap-O TV too

Samus> Anyway I can't stop laughing because someone on my FB was like "omg I had no idea Fables of the Green Forest was an anime," and someone replied with a remark about how it was changed for North American audiences:

Samus> "In the original, Reddy the Fox and his grandma mutate from exposure to some space radiation and all these cock shaped tentacles come out of their eyes and entwine the other forest animals. Eventually, Sammy the Blue Jay gets retro fitted with mecha armour and takes the foxes out, but not until episode 50."

December> ..........

Samus> I remember my father would be like, "Why are these animals wearing clothes. No seriously why are these fucking animals wearing clothes?"

Samus> "How are the glasses staying on that toad's face? Think about it."
Every poet is a thief

[11 Jun 2013|01:25pm]
Just in case you ever get the idea that working from home is idyllic: It's construction season and they're tearing up my building's parking lot with jackhammers.
Every poet is a thief

[09 Jun 2013|08:16pm]
I've been having an on-and-off tussle with migraines. Thankfully, they've been off for a while, and hopefully they'll stay that way. Not betting on it though because lol family history.

Anyway, during one particularly horrible day of suffering, I decided I should go to the hospital/clinic and get myself blasted with some strong meds. Problem is, I had my part-time job at the dog grooming salon that day, and I couldn't find anyone to cover me. Since there are only two people in the salon, the only way I can excuse missing a shift is by having my next-of-kin say, "She can't make it. She's embalmed."

So I just kind of went in and, y'know, hoped for an easy day.

I GOT:

-A dog with a big flea infestation.

-A dog with some porcupine quills embedded in its skin.

-A dog with a sewing needle stuck in its scrotum (?????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!).

The Lord was not kind that day.
4 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[03 Jun 2013|09:21am]
A long time ago, a friend of mine (I won't name him/her in case he/she would rather remain anonymoose) said, "Whooooo wants me to draw them some dirty fanart??" and I said, "OOH! ME, PLZ!"

The scruffy "hobo" incarnation of Phoenix Wright had just been revealed for Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney, at the time. I requested Jake Marshall x Hobo Phoenix, because I am filthy but predictable.

The picture was done, and it was awesome.

Now, this may be wishful thinking, but it seems to me that a bunch of Hobo Phoenix x Jake Marshall hit the 'net shortly afterwards, and a couple of the pictures appear to be inspired by my initial request.

If I ever have kids I'm going to tell them, "The Hobo Phoenix x Jake Marshall kink is my truest legacy. You little bastards ain't worth a shit."
4 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Bad Times with Canadians [29 May 2013|11:46pm]
Gonna be honest: I'm the very model of what's wrong with city life. I really don't know any of my neighbours, nor do I have a burning desire to get to know them. I'm certainly not cold to them, nor are they cold to me. We talk all the time. I'm just, uh, shy I guess?

I identify the folks sharing our floor via their notable characteristics. There's the dude in the apartment to our right who's probably going to burn us all down someday. There's the guy at the end of the hall who owns a sphinx cat named "Tateleh." There's the woman below us who judges on the Anime North masquerade and always asks us if we're going, and I always feel bad when I say "no" (I really, really hate that venue). There's the guy on the tenth floor who talks games with us. And there's the old Hasid on our floor with a super-long beard and a British accent who I refer to privately as "Dumbledore," and I should really stop that.

But thanks to my introverted nature, I had no idea that our left-hand neighbour was the star of an early '90s Canadian sitcom. I won't say which one for privacy's sake, especially since the poor feller was kind of evicted recently. :I Which, incidentally, is when I discovered who he is.

Sure, all child actors kind of stagger into adulthood with the grace of three-legged horses, but I doubt this guy ever had an opportunity to save up a nest egg. There is no oxymoron more painful than "Canadian celebrity."

At least he didn't die alone.

Incidentally, The Alexander Keith's guy / Teisel Bonne's voice actor used to live pretty close to David and I. Then, uh, this happened.
4 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[20 May 2013|11:17am]
Live in Canada? Happy Victoria Day!

queen_victoria

Don't live in Canada? I'll um--get a free preventative mammogram in your honour...?
Every poet is a thief

[09 May 2013|12:21am]
I recently watched Donnie Darko for the first time.

Now, maybe I'm as dumb as piss, but are you really supposed to understand what the hell is going on in that movie before running to the Wikipedia page?
4 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[01 May 2013|03:53pm]
It never fails to blow my mind when someone tells me they enjoy my writing.

Like,

There are so many things a person can do with their time.

They can walk their dog.

They can take a nap.

They can eat a big sandwich.

They can play a cool video game.

And instead, they take the time to read a thing I did.

It's incredibly humbling, and I'm thankful for it. <3
2 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[28 Apr 2013|01:48pm]
Life is...life is good! Quite busy! Been writing my ass off, meaning that I am literally mashing the keyboard under my big white butt, then when my glutes fall off I turn in whatever I managed to write. It's kind of like the City of Old Emperors in The Neverending Story--you know, all those assholes who tried to take over the Childlike Empress's job, lost their memories, and are doomed to roll letter-dice until they write every story in the world. Except my version has more bums.

I am working triple-hard on my novel because it occurred to me that if I don't, I'll be writing down other people's ideas forever. There are worse legacies to leave behind--"The Four-Headed Man That Made Ceaseless Love to Horses", for instance--but eh. It's just something I gotta do.

THAT IS ALL FOR NOW. But I'm going to try and revive this journal 'cause I'm kind of lonely for it.
2 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[12 Apr 2013|12:22am]
I'm not sure what do put in this here journal.

What would you like me to put in this here journal?

Writing about games? Stupid gifs? Stuff about animals? Writing in general?

DEAD BODIES??
12 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[16 Mar 2013|02:15pm]
I know the old chestnut about catching more flies with honey than vinegar is kind of done, but hear me out for a second.

Over on Tumblr, a person posted a picture he took at the gym of a wheelchair-bound person working the bench press with the help of his caregiver. The caption was something along the lines of, "I originally didn't want to go to the gym because it was too cold. What was my lame excuse again?"

The able-bodied world has a terrible habit of using pictures of the disabled as inspiration porn. Snopes, surprisingly, has a pretty excellent piece about this trend wrapped up in that tired story about the Special Olympians who reportedly crossed the finish line linked arm-in-arm. It's a trend that needs to stop, since people with physical and mental disabilities are as human as the rest of us, and are therefore prone to the same flashes of happiness, sadness, frustration, etc. They are not Angels on Earth that supposedly understand the workings of the world on a level that the rest of us cannot comprehend.

THAT SAID--

I think there are better ways to get this point across to the original picture-poster than to bombard him with a stream of comments like, "You're a terrible person"/"Fuck you, you piece of shit"/"Walkies like you are the reason I don't want to leave my house."

I know it's not the job of a minority to educate the majority, but it's still important to remember that people--regardless of race, colour, gender, or social status--are defensive animals. If someone demonstrates a misguided attempt to do good and they're immediately shot down with a barrage of "FUCK YOUs," they're going to gawp, bristle, or retreat entirely. Which, by the way, is what happened to the OP. He (assuming it's a he, sorry, lazy) deleted his Tumblr.

Wherever he is now, maybe he'll think harder about treating people like equals regardless of their physical state. Or, more likely, he thinks that any vocal movement towards social betterment is out of its goddamn mind, "political correctness" is running rampant, etc. Here was a chance to help someone change their world view, and it was blown to bits.

I'm not saying we need to draw people onto our knees and pat their heads when we tell them, "I know you meant well, but--". And there is certainly a time to get angry about social justice, particularly when a group is actively being shouted down in matters like equality, health care, and the like. But does it really take more energy to say, "What you did is wrong, and here's a brief explanation why/some links" than to call someone a pile of human excrement?

There's obviously no guarantee that the OP would have gotten the message. Maybe he would have turned defensive (in which case, it's acceptable to ramp up the harsh words--though there's rarely a good reason to sling swears at a person). But maybe he would have reflected and realized why taking that picture and posting it wasn't the best idea in the universe. All I know is, he's probably not going to do it now, a whole lot of negative energy has been expended on both sides, and nothing good is likely to come from any of it.
4 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Let's Play Waste Your Damn Time! [15 Mar 2013|07:18am]
I will not download Ragnarok Online.

I will not download Ragnarok Online.

I'm already up to my boobs in 3DS and iOS games that I need to play for work. I'm deep into Fire Emblem, HarmoKnight, Skyrim, Earthbound, and other games I'm playing for fun. I don't need--

HEY.

HEY MOUSE CURSOR!

I see what you're--

NO.

STOP IT.

GET AWAY FROM THAT LINK!--



Goddammit.




It's kind of lonely here. I wonder if anyone even plays this game anymore. Guess I'll teleport to the Eden Group--




AAAAAAH! Jesus!




The game glitched out and this scary Kafra-woman portrait started following me around everywhere. "We here at the Kafra Services are always on your side. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE RUNNING FROM? THE SICKNESS IS INSIDE OF YOU!"




Confession: I have a thing for cutesy Korean RPGs because there is no other genre in the video game kingdom that is capable of turning sea otters into a SWARMING MOB OF SOUL-EATERS.


EPILOGUE: I took this original batch of screenshots a while back. I've been pecking at the game in between writing paragraphs, etc (the rule is one paragraph, two hours of the game!--kidding). Now I ride next year's Thanksgiving turkey, and I have a pet Petite.

1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[15 Feb 2013|07:20am]
David taught me a thing:

What happens when you mix Banana Nut Cheerios and Chocolate Cheerios?

MAGICAL DELICIOUSNESS.

It's a sin.

1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

[07 Feb 2013|02:21pm]


No I shan't. It's snowing.

Really, it's like God discovered the biggest and best porn cache in the universe and reams of his icy-pure ejaculate won't stop whistling onto the mortal plane.

Sigh. All right. It would sure make me happy if more clients found ways to pay Canadian-based freelancers via direct deposit.

...Though if I keep making shitty metaphors like that masturbating God beauty, I won't be employed as a writer for very much longer.
3 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

It's a writing. [27 Jan 2013|10:52pm]
You know what's hard?

Writing about the month of May during a bad cold snap.

Know what's harder?

Writing seriously about miscarriage when you'vLOSS.JPG LOSS.JPG LOSS.JPG B^U B^U B^U B^U B^U B^U B^U B^U B^U B^U

Know what's the hardest?

Some shit called wurtzite boron nitrate, apparently.

LJ is as quiet as a library full of dead people these days, so if you'd like to read one of my novel excerpts...sure! I'd love for that to happen! And if you leave comments/criticism, I might even hook my fingers together, set my chin in them and grin at you!

r3@d m0@rCollapse )
5 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Hi, I'm Hellraiser. [10 Jan 2013|11:42pm]
A quick follow-up to my health shenanigans!

-I'm trying acupuncture for my chronic tiredness.

-I'm going on Accutane because cystic acne at 32 is fucking bullshit.

...That's about it.

Acupuncture isn't covered by health care, so I'm going to a community joint that lets you pay on a sliding scale. I don't know if it'll work; I've only gone twice, and I've been warned it might take a while to fix my broken ass because I've dealt with tiredness for a long, long time. So far I'm happy with the place. The acupuncturists are nice, and the atmosphere is very calming though it's not quite enough to make me forget "HOLY SHIT I AM LYING IN A CHAIR AND THERE ARE NEEDLES ALL OVER ME." I don't freak over needles, but I'm not great with them, either. And I find I'm getting worse as I get older. My blood pressure's low to begin with, and the sight of a needle sometimes makes my head go "No way. I'm outie."

We'll see how it goes!

If you want something to read, swallow this thing I wrote about the state of modern game localization.
3 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Soundtrack for a World Going Tits-Up, Redux: Neighbourhood #1 [01 Jan 2013|02:20pm]
Sorry buoys and gulls--I didn't mean to crap out on my Apocalyptic Songfest of 2012, but Deadlines Happened™. We've gone beyond 21/12, and holy shit, we're still alive. Let's celebrate by looking at more songs about the end of the world.

Today: Neighbourhood #1 (Tunnels) by The Arcade Fire.



I love The Arcade Fire's "Funeral," an album that deals primarily with snow and dead things buried by snow. It was jointly inspired by the Quebec Ice Storm of 1998 and the band's family members popping off, so the end result is a lot of songs that feel kind of sad, kind of confused, and kind of angry.

It's hard to draw a bead on what Neighbourhood #1 "means," exactly; there's a lot of imagery that makes me think of having to grow up too fast because of parents that are dead or otherwise incapacitated. The question is, what erased the adults from the world presented in this song? Some kind of disaster, if the image of snow burying a neighbourhood has anything to do with anything. In fact, Chuck-E-Cheese's Rock-a-Fire Explosion took a more literal approach when it adapted this song for the enjoyment of boys and girls everywhere. Nothing like pizza topped with pepperoni and tears of fright.

See you tomorrow...........?
Every poet is a thief

Soundtrack for a World Going Tits-Up: London Calling [12 Dec 2012|11:48pm]
I can't think of another song that narrates the end of the world as powerfully as London Calling. While the song itself was inspired by that little Three Mile Island thing (and seasoned with general uncertainty about modern life), the imagery paints a world that's gone up in a nuclear fireball--fallout, cold, hunger.

And while the line "London's drowning and I live by the river" recalls the flooding of River Thames, it works for a song about a radioactive disaster. "On top of everything else, the waters are rushing in--and that's perfectly okay because I'll be the first to die. So long, suckers. Enjoy your radiation sickness." Music to suffer the Cold War by.

It's enough to make you want to re-watch Threads. And then you decide against it because you like peace of mind.



London is drowning and I live in a van down by the river.

See you tomorrow.
1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Soundtrack for a World Going Tits Up: S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W [11 Dec 2012|08:58pm]
Continuing my look at apocalyptic songs because you can't stop me, suckah!

I am a staunch My Chemical Romance apologist, and I suspect it's going to get me shot one of these days. Nevertheless, I really do think Gerard Way has talent--I mean, he wrote a comic that won an Eisner award, and those don't come in cereal boxes.

Either way, Danger Days is a lot of fun to listen to. It's a concept album that revolves around a band of renegades fighting the reach of a mega-corporation in a post-apocalyptic world. What's interesting is that it starts out defiant and ends sadly, whereas MCR's previous album, Black Parade (another concept album, this time about a dude coming to grips with his fucked-up past while he dies of cancer) starts off sad and ends on a positive note.

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W -- hell with that, it's SCARECROW from now on -- is one of the more melancholy, wistful songs on Danger Days. If you warp yourself to Sarah Connor's Terminator 2 future, I want you to look on the burnt corpse of that movie's iconic playground and hum this song to yourself. All right?



On the topic of Danger Days, the video for Sing gives me major Final Fantasy VIII vibes and reminds me very much of Laguna rescuing Ellone from Adel. It's probably wishful thinking, but hey, Gerard Way is a big Final Fantasy nerd, so who knows?

See you tomorrow.
Every poet is a thief

Soundtrack for a World Going Tits-Up: Prelude 12/21 [10 Dec 2012|11:08pm]
This guy did a cool 60-second mash-up of songs about the end of the world. It's a lot of fun, but being a mere 60 seconds, it's not very filling. So in honour of our impending end, I thought I'd look at some of my favourite "OH GOD, IT'S OVER" ballads.



Let's start with an easy/obvious one: Prelude 12/21 by AFI, from December Underground. The opening sounds like the Harry Potter theme shat a string of Santa bells against a steel toilet bowl, but you know what? I still kind of love it. I really dig the drums that burst in at 0:38. I once read a suggestion that December Underground is a concept album about the rabbits from Watership Down. The person who made that suggestion might have been high.

See you tomorrow.
Every poet is a thief

[03 Dec 2012|03:03pm]
Mang my body has gone completely badonkers recently, and I don't know why. It could all be related to some non-serious but annoying problems I've recently been diagnosed with.

1) Very painful ovulation + irregular, heavy periods. Could be related to the fibroids that were found hanging out on my baby hotel and smoking cigarettes like so many squatters. Said fibroids are small, but new ones are cropping up quickly.

2) Hashimoto's disease. Basically, I have a lump on my thyroid that might be throwing my hormone levels out of whack. So far my levels are mostly OK, but I'm going to go ahead and blame this shit for my horrible acne outbreaks that aren't even being tamed by the antibiotics that I'm taking (and yes, I've tried every natural remedy in the book, because these damn pills are expensive).

3) Colds. Bad colds. Caught three already since September, and I used to catch a cold maybe once a year. Swollen glands, fever, very sore throat, voice loss. Arglebargle.

I went to my doctor; he suggested stress, but really, I'm not all that stressed out. I'm busy, but it's a good stress, know what I mean? I like what I do, etc, and I certainly don't wake up hating my life or anything. He took blood but I never followed up. I guess I should.

Otherwise--durr. I don't know. I guess it could be a case of getting old. Everybody's body changes at a certain point, right?

I don't know if I'm looking for advice or what. I just needed to yell somewhere.
4 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

To expand on what I wrote the other day-- [28 Nov 2012|12:08am]
If the Christian hell exists, I figure our lives begin on a platform situated somewhere between heaven and the abyss. When we're bad, I imagine that platform drops a little bit closer to the Devil's lap.

Well today my immortal soul went into a freefall because I can't stop laughing at this (pump up the volume--NSFW, but do it anyway. Get yourself fired in my name).



Score one for "Stuff I Can't Share on Facebook." Somehow, all my RL relations crept up on there, and some of them have this crazy delusion that I'm balanced.

I THINK I MIGHT BE GOING TO HELL.

OOOOOOOOH DEAR!
2 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Let's Talk Tracts: Merchandisin', Merchandisin'! [24 Nov 2012|10:51am]
You know, I haven't done Let's Talk Tracts in a long time. If you need a refresher, that was a short-lived "series" in which I kind of pointed and laughed at Jack Chick tracts.

I'm still keeping an eye on what Chick is dishing out tract-wise, as well as related merchandise. The latest offering at the Chick Store includes big honkin' decals of heaven and hell that you can stick up in "your home, your office, your college dorm" and (my favourite) funeral homes.

Here are two things that I find interesting about Bible-thumping fundies:

1) They hate homosexuality, particularly male homosexuality (even though they'll try and feed you that "love the sinner, hate the sin" mush), but when it's time to draw a half-naked man or angel with flowing hair and rippling, oiled muscles, they never half-ass the job, ever:




2) They squeal about the evils of Dungeons & Dragons and rock/metal music, but they obviously take great pleasure in drawing pictures of hell--depictions that look like they'd be right at home on the cover of a Dethklok album or a D&D module:




Conflict: I think dragons are really cool, so if I saw them in hell, wouldn't I be all like, "They do exist! Oh, they look so awesome! This is the happiest, most painful day of my afterlife!" *Sob, burn*
3 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

To professionalism!! *glug glug* [12 Nov 2012|03:33pm]
I should really see about getting a real webpage.

I had originally intended for my Tumblr to serve as a writing portfolio of sorts, which is why "nadiaoxford.com" currently goes there. But I only just realized that "nadiaoxford.com" is at the bottom of every professional email I send out, and anyone who clicks on it is immediately whisked to a Tumblr wasteland full of profanity, stupid memes, and, for some reason, pictures of Pokemon with huge asses.

Oh, and this:



It's kind of funny, yeah, but I should probably fix this problem. Maybe I should make my domain point to a Wordpress site, or even my 1UP.com blog.
5 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

The Wizard of Noooo [06 Nov 2012|01:11am]
I'm playing/reviewing a Facebook-based Wizard of Oz game that punctuates its gameplay with video clips from the classic WB movie.

And that's fine, except I think the whole project is too ambitious for my laptop. The video clips keep freezing into solidified chunks of nightmare fuel.




"WELL MY PRETTY, I CAN CAUSE ACCIDENTS T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T"


(ME: oh god oh god why isn't alt+ctrl+del doing anything)




"T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T"
1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

I wanna be the udder best [31 Oct 2012|09:56am]
Normally I'd be pissed off about LJ's new oppan Tumblr-style forever-scrolling Friends page--but so few of my friends update LJ anymore that it's not even an issue!

Well. While I'm in the neighbourhood, I may as well pimp something I wrote for 1UP's Science Week. I wanted to explore Pokemon's wonky biology (since biology is the only scientific field I boast some competence in), but I proposed outlining the issues via a short fiction story. 1UP let me do it! \o/

Welcome to Kanto Region, Doctor

Fiction writing is something I so rarely get to do these days, let alone get paid for.

If you decide to read, thank you! Whenever you're done, Professor Oak will show you to the door.

6 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

And by "leg cramp," I mean "HUGE E-REC-TION." [24 Oct 2012|10:43pm]
If you don't hang around Tumblr, you might be interested in two (2) things I wrote for 1UP.com's "Mystery Week:"

Mysterious Fathers of Final Fantasy: Laguna Loire

Mysterious Fathers of Final Fantasy: Shadow

Writing all this up made me feel mushy and I wasted a lot of time reading Laguna fanfic. Sigh...
3 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Romance in the morning [22 Oct 2012|07:55am]

(CONTEXT: When we used to get the paper every morning, the paper guy would toss it against the door and it would go "Thud")

ME: (*Farts*)

DAVID: "What the hell was that?"

ME: "What, you've never heard a fart before?"

DAVID: "For a minute I thought someone delivered the paper to us by accident."

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Write night what a sight [17 Oct 2012|12:57am]
Well, I'm glad to see this place has life! Thanks, everyone! I feel better!

I thought I'd talk a little about about writing. I've been doing a lot of it lately.

Like...a lot. Not just work-stuff, but novel-stuff as well.

Dis came out today on da busCollapse )

You probably noticed that the preceding writing sample is as fruity as the contents of Toucan Sam's latrine. I've come to realize that I swing in and out of moods according to my girly cycle. There are days when I feel like I'm tasting the world through my eyes and fingers, and it's kind of nice and I'm able to write ridiculously descriptive stuff.

Then clouds pass over me and I'm like, "What? What the hell did I just write? It makes no sense--no, don't tell me to observe people, I fucking hate people!" *crumple crumple pitch*

Maybe others go through this as well?

Anyway, that's my pointless writing story for the day.
Every poet is a thief

Tumbld down the stairs [15 Oct 2012|01:08pm]
Yeah, I've been cheating on this LJ in favour of my Tumblr, where all my friends have gone.

Here's the thing, though: I don't like Tumblr all that much.

Oh sure, it's great for finding .gifs like this:



And this:



And it's wonderful for fandom silliness and silly stuff in general. It's also a great jumping-off point for talking about said fandoms. ("Oh hey, this reminds me of the time I--")

But as a blogging tool, it's kind of horrible. A handful of people put up thoughtful and/or important posts, yeah, but then everyone just kind of reblogs it without adding further insight beyond something like "THIS!!!" or an approving .gif (which is admittedly a little better because, hey, .gif):



...I don't really know who this is, I'm just putting him here as an example.

As a result, I kind of miss my friends' writing.

Needless to say, this sentiment makes me an awful hypocrite because I use Tumblr, and I also use the hell out of Facebook and Twitter. But to my credit (because it is all about me, always), Twitter and Facebook were always about nonsense and twaddle. Hell, the name "Twitter" says it all. What do birds do all day except sit on telephone wires and bullshit each other?

Anyway, if I follow you on Tumblr, please don't feel like I'm calling you out. I'm not calling anyone out, except maybe my own ass for being old and grumpy and being a little bitter that the nature of blogging has changed--as if it was going to be stationary forever. Pfft. Still, social media is my life and livelihood, so I've come to accept and enjoy Tumblr for what it is, even if the format doesn't always thrill me.

I'm also wondering if anyone read dis here journal anymore (aside from some awesome regulars, obvs <3). I've had it for so long, and I have no desire to stop writing in it entirely, and I shouldn't whine about lacking an audience since I used to blog strictly for the joy of it as far back as the late '90s. But I would like to know--is there anybody out there?

(*Acoustic guitar solo*)
50 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

No... [04 Oct 2012|08:51pm]
SPOTS: "Hello, fuck you, I'm your monthly invasion of cystic acne."

ME: "Ha! This time I'm ready for you, cystic acne! I got a prescription for antibiotics from my new dermatologist! Watch in terror as I walk into Shoppers Drug Mart and--"

PHARMACIST: "Hey, the dermatologist forgot to sign this prescription, lol."


1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

"Hi Nadia, I'm your psyche. Have a dream about rainbows. LOL, jokes." [16 Sep 2012|01:38pm]
Something I heard in one of my dreams last night:

(I can't remember the context, which just makes it more horrific)

"Her boyfriend boiled her alive in a vat of lard. Took her ten minutes to die, though the urine-covered newspaper he'd wrapped her in beforehand helped turn her into mincemeat."
1 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

"'Bloodpool' sounds like a good place to raise a family." [09 Sep 2012|02:46pm]
"Into the Castle" is the most underrated Castlevania track of all time.

I mean, hell! Dat kettle drum!




Also playing: The Best Remix of Bloody Tears Ever, Rondo of Blood Can Go Fuck Itself.

Yes, that is the official track title.




Man, how did the first generation of SNES games get away with such amazing music?




HOW???//

2 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

ooooh-ho-ho-ho! [03 Sep 2012|09:44pm]
Game developers have struggled with piracy issues from day one. Currently, publishers fall back on stuff like DRM and online passes and now we all hate each other.

There are better ways to deter piracy, game publishers!

Try psychological terrorism!



This is from the Japanese version of Sonic CD, circa 1993. If you boot up a pirated copy of the game, you're cock-blocked by what appears to be multiple Sonics wearing Guy Fawkes masks (holy shit, the Hedgehog was ahead of his time!). The background music is the US version of the game's boss theme. It isn't exactly easy Christmas listening under the best circumstances, and coupled with this night-blue...wallpaper, it becomes downright unsettling.

Apparently, the Japanese text translates as, "Fun is Infinite With Sega Enterprises!" But if you don't know Japanese, you can be forgiven for assuming that it says, "YOUR HANDS ARE STAINED, AND NOW WE CAN SMELL YOU."

If I had indulged in pirated Sega CD software back in the day and I booted up Sonic CD to see this, I would have assuredly thought very carefully about continuing to pirate software.

But that's just me.
12 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Save the Pearls: In-a-Gadda-da-Vida [25 Aug 2012|03:46pm]
Recently, there's been a lot of hoo-ha and accusations of racism over a self-published book by Victoria Foyt called Save the Pearls: Revealing Eden. Warning: If you decide to visit that page, there's a video of a white woman in blackface stuck on auto-play, and it is cringe-worthy.

First, a confession: I lightly collect and read self-published fiction. A lot of it is bad, but there's also a naked honesty and earnestness that you don't see in professionally-published stuff. Granted, the vast majority of self-published fiction sinks to the bottom, and the only reason Save the Pearls even managed to scrabble for a gasp of air is because Weird Tales published an excerpt of the book.

Anyway! Being a collector of sorts, I decided "Well, why not?" and added a copy of Revealing Eden to my digital bookshelf. The first half of the book made me kind of squirm and uncomfortably chuckle "Oh dear" several times over.

The second half of the book made me scroll down a lot because it's boring and has nothing to do with anything.

Have a ten-cent summary if you can swallow it: Eden is a "Pearl," a white person. She lives in an underground city that's ruled by "Coals," or black people. Most Coals are very mean to Eden, who considers herself an inferior, ugly being (and then she doesn't--and then she does--and then she doesn't). Nevertheless, Eden is desperate to mate for two reasons:

1) If she doesn't do so by the time she's 18, she'll be thrown out into the radiation-baked world to fend for herself.

2) She wants to hook up with a Coal so she can produce a mixed race baby that won't share her seemingly crummy fate.



"Y'know what the best part of being half-black, half-white is? When I grow up, I'll be accepted by everybody!


Eden's father, a scientist, is working on a project that aims to combine human DNA with the DNA of a jaguar/panther, a snake, and a harpy eagle. The idea is that humans--Pearls in particular--will gain the necessary physical traits to survive the harsh, irradiated environment (yeah, don't worry, it makes even less sense as the story progresses).

Things go awry and Eden's task master, Bramford, is forced to volunteer himself as the first test subject for the Cheetahman Project. The experiment turns him into a beast-man, and he spirits Eden and her father away to the "last patch of rainforest on Earth"--inhabited, by the way, by Aztec Indians(?) that speak Spanish.

FYI, Eden hates Bramford and suspects the worst out of him, and he turns out to be a Nice Guy™ who really loves her. Whoops. Spoilers.

More spoilers: Pretty much nothing goes on after the group escapes to the jungle. Bramford and Eden fall in and out of love, and there's some bulldonk about Bramford's previous mate (also a Pearl) and a son he keeps locked up for "his own good," but my brain kind of seized up at the constant sexualization of Beastman Bramford. Good Lord Eden, even Bella Swan had the decency to only lust after Jacob when he was in his human form.

Incidentally, Foyt has come under a lot of fire for using Bramford to perpetrate the "bestial black man" stereotype. There's an additional problem, but I admit it's all mine: Despite my best efforts, I can only picture Bramford as the behemoth-thing that Vincent Valentine transforms into in Final Fantasy VII.



"Oh, Lucretia--only you understand the man behind the beast--er, shit. I mean, oh Eden--"


Foyt has responded to criticism by claiming she wants Save the Pearls to make us think about issues of race, oppression, and environmental degradation, especially climate change. That's a laugh, because she drops everything once the characters enter the rainforest. Which, by the way, is brimming with exotic fauna and flora even though utter ozone depletion is supposed to have turned the Earth into God's own x-ray machine.

Stories of "reverse oppression" can work if the author is capable of handling them skillfully and sensitively (I'm told Noughts and Crosses is a good example, though I need to read it myself). First and foremost the author needs to believe in his or her world, and a big problem with Save the Pearls is Foyt's lack of basic world-building skills.

For instance, she never specifies the nature of the disaster that hit the planet. Supposedly, the aforementioned ozone depletion made it far easier for white people to catch "The Heat" (skin cancer), which wiped 'em out and left black people as the planet's majority (nevermind that the current majority of the planet is darker-skinned peoples). The melanin-rich black people took the opportunity to crush whitey, because--I don't know. Foyt never specifies.

The problems I have with this scenario, besides the obvious:

1) If solar radiation is severe enough to wipe out most of the world's white population with a one-week episode of skin cancer, there's no way any human would be able to survive, period. Yes, melanin protects against sunburn to some degree, but there comes a point where them rays are just gonna go "ziiiip!" through your intestines and cook your goose. It don't matter if you're black or white, baby.



2) Early in the book, Eden recalls a memory of her mother taking her behind some protected glass and showing her a parched, barren world that cannot sustain life, and yet--

3) Eden is perfectly OK in the jungle, outside of being uncomfortably hot at first (poor child). Going by Foyt's descriptions, it's business as usual for the sun over this tiny patch of rainforest that somehow managed to survive worldwide desertification, weather pattern alterations, and massive climate change.

4) Hold on!--the book mentions that some of the Aztec children are scabby, red, burnt, and showing signs of advanced skin cancer--

5) --and then they're not. They're actually very happy with their simple lives, because they get to run around naked with their pet monkeys and parrots and be one with the Earth. Eden learns so much about what's truly important!

6) Oh wait--the Indians are forced to live beside a polluted river that's full of oil, trash, and animal carcasses. Okay, so Foyt's less-than-romantic description of aboriginal life actually reflects the poverty and squalor that's a sad reality for many--

7) Sorry, scratch that. The rivers and lakes are suddenly pristine, and Eden drinks from them constantly. The Indians grow their own food, and it's so delicious and healthy.

8) But--but the rainforest tribe needs to stay under the thick tree canopy to remain protected from the sun's harmful rays, right? Right?...

9) No, turns out there's a city nearby (even though we've been told that humans fled underground ages ago), and the natives travel there often.

10) Hey, while we're on the subject of El Sol, how effectively does putting on blackface help protect humans from radiation versus, say, a big ol' radiation suit? Why do humans even need protection from skin cancer when they live far, far underground? There's some talk about "going outside at night"--but for what? The narrative establishes that there's nothing outside the catacombs. Do people just crave the novelty of pissing on the cracked dirt? And--Eden! Why do you keep obsessing over your mandatory mating even when you're far outside the reach of the "Uni-Gov?"

What? Why? How?? I--I--



Needless to say, the "SCARY FUTURE!" portrayed in Save the Pearls: Revealing Eden doesn't exactly rival Winston Smith's bread-and-gin lunch from the opening pages of 1984. And if you put heavy messages about racism and oppression on a shaky table, it's all going to come crashing down on your skull.

Sorry Foyt, but to put it simply:



Speaking of "Next Time," I can't wait to read Revealing Eden's upcoming sequel, Adapting Eden!

And by "Read" I mean "Eat a big sandwich," and by "Revealing Eden's upcoming sequel," I mean "Play a lot of Nintendo."

Okay, to be serious, I hope Foyt learns from this experience and works to salvage her writing. Nobody's perfect, right? The idea is to say "Whoops, I fucked up," and aim to do better next time. Her first task is to cease defending her book's themes in the guise of Eden herself.

We'll see how it goes.

Bye-Bye!
10 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

Watch out! He knows about timed hits! [13 Aug 2012|11:24am]
In the Simpsons episode "Last Tap Dance in Springfield," Lisa takes tap dancing lessons from former child star Shirley Temple Vicki Valentine. Fearing that Lisa's abysmal lack of talent will make her look bad, Vicki designates her student as the "Curtain Puller" ("The most important part of all!").

When the day of the recital arrives and the show is set to go live, Vicki tells Lisa, "Okay, curtain puller, this is your moment to shine!--Oh, it's too important; I'll do it for you," then shoves Lisa out of the way and pulls the curtain herself.

That scene basically sums up the first Super Mario RPG game by Squaresoft.

I honestly love Mario RPG. Great graphics, amazing script and sense of humour, and a wicked soundtrack (4est Maze 4evr, and if you ask me, the ending theme is rivalled only by To Faraway Times from Chrono Trigger). But I watched a playthrough recently and I was like, "Goddamn, Squeenix could not resist stuffing their original characters into this." It was like reading a 15-year-old's Hunger Games fanfiction, albeit a pretty okay fanfiction.

It's not even just a matter of Geno's* presence, even though the puppet outright states that he chose to possess the "strongest-looking doll" from a selection that includes a Mario, Peach, and Bowser doll. It's more about Bowser's crew abandoning** him to join Smithy in record time, because Smithy is so strong and scary. It's about 70% or more of the boss characters being Squaresoft creations--including the final bad guy and all his lieutenants. It's about Mallow, Valentina, and Dodo (whom I admittedly love) staging a revolution in a kingdom entirely of Squaresoft's making.

It's about Bowser being a joke/kind of pathetic in a story sense. Granted, Bowser's kind of a goof in modern Mario games, but he's still wholly capable of delivering crap-your-pants moments (New Super Mario Bros Wii spoiler!!!)

It's about Booster, who is just kind of like--actually, I have no idea what Booster's deal is, though he probably could have been replaced by Wario easily enough. Why are Snifits working for him, anyway?

Super Mario RPG sure as hell has a great endgame, though.

Anyway, again, not trashing Mario RPG. Still one of my old favourites (though I'd sooner recommend Paper Mario: Thousand Year Door, a game that really has fun with the Mario mythos). I just think it's interesting to look back on. Was this a sign of things to come? I mean, does anyone really think "Disney" when they hear "Kingdom Hearts" anymore, or do they just hear "omg axel roxas sora keyblade nomura?"

Two final points:

1) Mario RPG is the last time Peach is referred to as "Princess Toadstool," isn't it, aside from the quick, transnational mention in Super Mario 64? Feel free to correct me on this one.

2) Mario is a silent protagonist in Mario RPG. It feels alien to not hear him "Woo-hoo!" all over the place, though frankly, I don't mind the break.

---

*No big beef against Geno, here. Eh kills boyer and doesn't afraid of anything.

**To be fair, the Monstro Town scene reunites Bowser with some of his AWOL soldiers, including a Goomba who had a family. It's kind of adorable.
9 killed their inspiration| Every poet is a thief

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