October 29, 2010

Various and sundry items

The podcasts and posts will be updated less often. If you enjoy the show, sorry. I needs my fingers for other things. That sounds weird. Let's move on.



Here is the link to the competition: http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn19561
And here is something that pisses me off.
I hate politicians. It's nothing personal. I dislike that most of them pretend to be our good buddy with a direct line to the Jesus, when their actual job isn't to legislate or help anyone but themselves. Their job is to get elected. So when Barack (may I call you Barack?) goes on a plug-mah-buddies spree, it bugs me. Most folks have realized by now that good ole Barack isn't the second coming. He did make a claim to change things though - various things - the main one being how Washington did business. I took this to mean "in a less douche-tastic way." I may have been wrong.
I get that elections are a big thing, and if a shitload of Repubs (sounds like an ugly dog, huh?) get elected, his job will be much harder. But it's hard to rationalize electing people who spend a lot of their time doing fuck all. If I may offer a suggestion: do a better job, and it will not be as hard to get elected.
Wait. Shit, the Teaparty invalidates that last sentence. Okay, go back to tricking a lot of people into your viewpoint.

October 24, 2010

Teh Egg

I mentioned this once, and Hogue was good enough to remind me of the name. It's a good story.

http://www.galactanet.com/oneoff/theegg_mod.html

October 23, 2010

Kidnappers... from the 23rd Century!



Ghost stories are cool, and also rad. There's no retarded monster with a zipper running up the back. No teeth and claws, again. And no slasher-psycho who walks as fast as a snail with a bad sense of direction, but always gets to your hiding spot before you.
No, ghosts are just dead people who hang around and sometimes fuck shit up. To me, ghosts are the creepiest. They're part of the reason I won't go to Japan. The other part is I'm poor, but ghosts are higher on the list. And still there are (or were, before I stopped watching) a ton of ghost shows on t.v. Ghost Explorers, Ghost Lab, Ghost Hunters, Ghost Fuckers, Get Stoned with Ghosts! and more. I can't understand this. Let's take a look at two relatively recent examples of ghost stories that get shit (scares) done.
1408 by Stephen King. This might not seem fair. King is one of the best known horror writers, after all. Of course he's going to posit that Ghost Any Verb is a bad idea. But, while many of his stories are fun reads, few of them scare in a way that lasts. 1408 does so. The movie isn't bad; but the book. Man, fuck hotels after that story. Fuck them, and the people who work there. And the demon-thing that lives in the thirteenth room (add up the numbers) on the thirteenth floor.
The ghost isn't really a ghost here, but it acts like a haunted house story. Things, like paintings, the radio and phone, even the shower curtain, act weird. That they act at all is cause for concern, but in this case they act as the herald for some unimaginable monster that likes to dine in. On people.
The same is true in our other ghost story, Paranormal Activity. Retarded name? Godawful previews (I thought it was a movie about a movie audience for a while)? Yes to both. But spooky. And the ghost is really a demon, but the usual "things acting as they shouldn't" ghost story goodness is obeyed. It builds the atmosphere necessary to scare in a ghost story, and delivers.
But the point isn't, are these good stories. They are. The point is, with fiction and myth being the only recourse for any beginner ghost-verber, who would want to dedicate the time to do this shit? And who would want to watch them?
There are two possible outcomes to any ghost-verbing. A) Nothing happens. Lot of time is wasted. This, inevitably, is what occurs on the shows. If anything did happen they'd probably cut it, because then there would be proof, making it science, and science is boring. Outcome (B) Something happens. A ghost shows up. Your friend is possessed. Something definite occurs and shit goes down.
Since A is worthless, what about B? Well, fuck B. If there are ghosts, don't talk to them. I have a rule. It is, "Don't talk to dead people, even if you know them" and it has kept me out of trouble so far. If the ghost is friendly, you probably end up with a study that is equally the sad parts of E.T. and Beetle-fuckit. I don't know how to spell the name, and I don't want to look on IMDB. The show with Michael Keaton. Scientists treat the dead folks like they aren't people and find shit out. Cool. Best case scenario.
Worst case: the ghost be hostile. All up in your grill, B. And that, in the long history of fiction and making shit up that are myths, never ends well.
To put it bluntly: there is no good reason to look for ghosts. Don't do it.

October 16, 2010

Oh God, I can't stop

HELP.

So when I talked about hankerings, I restrained meself to the dungeons and the dragons. It has recently come to my attention (on this day of sleeplessness and what is that, the sun? Fuck you, guy, shining all up in my eyes) that music also belongs to the hankerings... genre? Maybe topic. 

Tell me, have you ever went crazy about music? Found a song and just listened to it, at least once a day, more often several times, unable to say why you listen so much - just that, bay-beh, you gots a need. Not a need for speed. That's rehab. Two doors over.
I have. Unless you haven't and think I'm weird now. Then I was totally kidding. And you should stop reading this. It's boring, trust me, like a dissertation on paint drying on various walls. 
My most recent music shame was Lady Gaga. I'm sorry, yes, I'll turn in my penis in the morning and pick up my vagina first thing. But it's her goddam fault. I hate her songs - Poker Face, Bad Romance, c'mon it's pop music with crazy outfits. I can't like this! Goddammit, brain, I can't like this! But I do. They're so fucking catchy, the desire to listen again wells up inside until there I am (there I was) at the library, trying to hide my screen so no one will know. That guy browsing the magazines - he might have to be disposed of. Can he hear me listening to it?
Nowadays I've got an attraction to non-lyrics stuff. Requiem for a Dream, On the Surface of the Sun, both movie songs (same name, and Sunshine) I listen to once a day, sometimes more. It's really hard to listen to other music when I'm this crazy. Thankfully, it fades in time and I can go back to normal. Until it happens again.   

October 15, 2010

I Don't Know Why I Say Things


One of the other reasons (besides disease-spewing miniature hellions) that I didn't work on this is a totally fucked sleep schedule. This happens at least once a month. I start out sleeping during the night - maybe going to bed around four, but up during the day at least.
By the middle of any given month, I am up all night and asleep all day.
I can't fix this by conventional means. I long ago learned to ignore the loudest alarm clock. I have been physically struck while asleep, and remained so. I must be tortured to be woken prematurely. That's why I lock my door.
In order to get back to normalcy, then, I have to circle back around. I stay up later every day -yesterday I managed to make it to 4 in the afternoon - finally arriving at a decent sleep time, like midnight or two. Then the process begins again.

Hankerings Anonymous

Courtesy of Donald Darko
Please do not take the above as genuine creativity. Please do take it as me finding it funny, and wishing that bitch Mrs. Farmer had gotten one of the ole Vader Force Chokes.

Let's talk about D&D.
I'm a fan of videogames. Games with good story, games with inspired art, games where you just kill a shitload of people - they probably had it coming - are all good. Heavy Rain is the best example of good story I know of. In the course of one game (spoiler) a fat, dumpy private dick won my heart, inspired me to be a better person, and subsequently betrayed me. It was a blow to my heart. He burned and salted the earth of love and not being a crazy shitbag. Then the plucky reporter chick died. That was kinda funny though.
Braid is a game with great art. Music in it is awesome. The story, while simple and a little obscure, is neat.
Dragon Age has great storytelling capabilities that have (in the case of city elves) shocked me. When rape, and its repercussions, become part of any narrative, things go to a weird place. When it is part of a video game - part of a whole person who serves as the player avatar, a person whose feelings you are supposed to feel - weird doesn't fucking cover it.
And, of course, WOW is the crack of all videogames.
All this leads me back to D&D because D&D is the thang, yo. It be that sweetness that I keep coming back for. Creating a broad range of potential stories, not actively writing them, but letting others write while you guide things - it's pretty cool. It's the thing (thang, if you prefer) that I'd give up videogames for. Not least of all because of how weird it is. Goodsirs, you are pretending to be dwarves and elves.
How cool is that? 

Late Facts: I forgot to listen to music this week. Thus, no podcast. It's like a magic trick, if the magician was dumber than a box of hammers. 
Super Late Facts: I don't think this post has a point, beyond "D&D is cool"; that's a valid point though, thin as it is. Also, once you press the italics button on Blogger, beware. Blogger likes the italics button. It wants you to keep using 'em. I'd say Blogger has a problem.

October 9, 2010

Uncle Ben + Phoenix Down

Tremble, Mortals!Behold, for I have found the old file, and put it back up.The Uncle Ben podcast, to be precise. Take that, science.

Sometimes I forget Things

WITH a capital T.
You should go do this. Trust me, I'm a doctor.
http://funds.gofundme.com/t5a0
The Title also has a link to it. So you don't even need to copy and paste. And the payment goes through paypal, so yer info be safe.
Times is tough. Money be precious. But this fellow made a movie, and is trying to make it as successful as he can. And I want to see it. So do it for the childrens. Just imagine me as a child, and you'll find it in yourself. Maybe I have some baby disease. Now I'm a tragic figure. Do you want to deprive tragic, baby-me of a movie? Why don't you just punch me in the head.
Now you've punched a baby.
So go donate, and maybe you will be forgiven for punching baby.

Late Facts: I think he deserves to get the movie out there. Spending your own money on a project like that has to be somewhat scary - you believe in it, but how can you be sure of turning a profit, or even recovering your losses? Entertainment be a fickle thing. So if ye've got it, give it, if not, maybe buy a copy of the movie. Or wish him good luck.

October 8, 2010

I have got to stop doing these at the last minute.

Perhaps you can't tell, because of the unbelievable professional quality you hear.

But I tend to do these at the last minute. Sometimes a bit past the last minute, as evidenced tonight. Technically, it's Saturday. I'd feel bad, if I wasn't busy feeling crazy.
I do these last minute because I am afraid of overthinking them. Given that I once wrote about poop for an entire post, you may be laughing at my presumption. You would be correct to laugh, in most cases. I, however, can agonize over whether to make a particular poop joke. I can fall into despair because poop seems so dumb, but it's all I've got. Poop and I are locked together like two stinky peas in a pod. There's no time. I put the post up. I wait for horrible things to happen. Maybe someone will buy me a puppy, then run over it just after I've named it and begun to love it. This never happens, but the expectation remains.
But, if I do these early in the week, I'll rethink them to the point of obsession. I'll see some joke or observation as stupid and strike it from my computer, and my heart. This poor, orphaned podcast will grow up in some back alley of cyberspace, and likely plot Kill Bill-esque revenge. I can't handle that. I also can't handle going slowly crazy for a week while I try to parse the good from the bad, and end up throwing two-thirds of it away. So I revert to my school mantra: fuck it, if they don't like it. I'll still probably be okay. And I am, until next week when it happens again.
I bitch about horror because I really like horror. I'm just usually not scared by it. The Shining freaked me out. The Grudge terrorized my thoughts for some time. But most horror is just fantasy with a dark twist - not that there's anything wrong with that - and not scary. I want scary. I like scary. As ole Cookie would say, I'm pretty much an idiot for 'em. And he would mean that, because he's a monster.
Sci-fi remains awesome. Put some folks in a ship, throw in a clone or two and hammer away with plot, character development, and whatever crazy shit ya got. Just don't gimme hard sci-fi. I don't care how the warp drive works. It's like trying to explain calculus to a dog. You might think you're getting through, but I just want to go play in the yard. The yard might be a metaphor here. I'm not sure.
Too much horror suffers from "Meh, fuck it" syndrome. I know that disease. It's deadly. It says that if you can make a buck, do it, with the least amount of creativity. It might be a good book. But in the end, I'm about as scared as a pit bull staring down a pigeon.

Late Facts: Go see Moon. It's good. Ritchie turned me onto it, and he was right on.

October 1, 2010

This Podcast has +10 to Sexiness

+3 of that comes from me doing this one shirtless.
The other +7 comes from me doing an impression of Mr. Connery. Even channeling him does it. If I'm still alive after this goes up, Mr. Connery decided it was funny. I don't know if he reads the blog, mind you; he simply knows all. In the First Church of the Omega Cannon, Sean Connery is the force beyond time and existence that even the Cannon can't destroy.
Enjoy the podcast and the music!

Late Facts: Reports of sexiness are unsubstantiated.
Super Late Facts: Trying to plan a dnd campaign and get everyone there is like trying to herd kittens. As a kitten.