I Can't Draw

Closest thing I ever did to "art" was a stick figure comic I did in middle school. The jokes were crude and juvenile, and the art -- and my free time -- was such that I could knock one page out every day, usually while in my algebra class. I had a few people who read them regularly, but usually because they sat at my table. Sometimes, they'd remark on a particular panel and say something to the effect of, "For a stick dude, this looks pretty good." I'd smile awkwardly -- I've never been good at responding to praise -- and keep writing. I did this for about four months.

I reached a point where I wanted to draw something that didn't look like ass, but when I started to actually try at drawing, I found that I couldn't do it. Perspective of any kind eludes me entirely; I can draw cartoon profiles and top-down views competently, but I struggle with anything else. When I saw that I had no concept of how to draw, I quickly gave up any interest I had in the subject.

And I regret it quite a bit. I see so many artists that aren't professional post some amazing things online and I wonder how they did it. I wish I could be like them. I wonder what would've happened if I hadn't given up, and maybe tried to actually get better at it. Like most people who consider themselves "creative-types," I think that I've come up with something that deserves to be on paper, but I can't do it. I'm consistently jealous of anyone who can draw, ink, and color their own work. It perpetually astounds me.

I know that my skill lies in writing (if it lies in anything at all), but writing can be such a boring skill. When you're a good artist, it shows. You can show anyone something you've drawn and they can immediately make a basic assessment, because art's appeal is immediate. The best of the best clearly outshine the crap.

People can recognize great writing, sure, but it's much more difficult. For one, if I end up writing for a living, it'll be in English, which means my parents will never be able to fully understand what I do or how I do it. This also means that it's more difficult to point out areas that need and improving. You have to learn certain rules. Those exist in art as well, but a rule comes with a clear-cut visual representation, most of the time, whereas some composition rules can be difficult to sift through.

When I took my Creative Writing class last semester, I kept telling myself that the things they were teaching me didn't apply to me as much because I was a visual storyteller. If I ever actually committed myself to writing a story, it'd be a comic, a movie, or a game. Because that's the way I think. Visually. I could very well get an artist to do the actual art for me, but It wouldn't be the exact way I had it planned. Perfectionist that I am, I'd hate that. I'd hate it even more when their version of my idea was better than mine. Which means I might be stuck with stick figures for a long time.

Dream Diary #1: Sarah Palin

I was going to write a long diatribe about the Tiger Mother, but my entire point was that she was a troll who was exposition her unique position to gain attention. But I understand the sweet irony of that post, so I opted not to do it. Instead, I'll do something much worse.

I had a dream this morning, during that time in dream Limbo where you know you're awake but you somehow still dream. I was at some sort of Republican convention (I never really got a hold of why), and I got closer to Sarah Palin than I'd ever want to be. I had the vague feeling that my family had encouraged me to get close to the stage, and she invited me up. She handed me the weirdest Gatling gun I'd ever seen; think of a huge water pitcher, except with a handle on either side and a longer barrel.

She told me to take a celebratory salvo of shots, for what I don't know. As I started firing, the recoil got out of control (which is expected consider the gun's design), and I shot a little girl in the pews. She immediately fell, causing mayhem and and scattering. I stopped firing as soon as I hit the girl, and Sarah's men pushed me offstage  with her behind me, saying "Don't worry, hun. You'll be fine. We can take care of this."

I'm still trying to figure out what the hell that meant. I feel like an intellectual who reads more into a story than author does. I'm sure if I asked my subconscious about it, they'd say "I don't know. I really don't like her."

Whether that referred to the girl or Sarah Palin I wouldn't know. 

Gruntwork

My brother offered to pay me to write a paper of his. It was about the effect of video game violence on minors. I told him where he could find more information about it, but declined his offer. I told him the journalistic side of me told me it was unethical.

As someone who presents themselves as a would-be writer, I get these requests often. Some people only know me as "that dude can write well," so they'll ask me to write or edit their papers. I've never taken up an offer to writer someone's paper for them, but I have edited a few. The most money I've ever gotten out of this was $30. It feels weird to do something like that when I myself need a huge amount of editing on my work. But usually, the papers I edit would be absolutely obliterated by a proper editor.

The other part of this is that everyone seems to think that writing is the easiest thing in the world to do. They think it's hard for them because they're not good at it, but that for me, words flow and stream out of me at a constant rate. Any writer knows that even when it's fun, writing is work. You have to put effort into what you love, just like any other profession or obsession. Good writing definitely does not come easily. So no, I don't want to write about things that don't matter to me in the long haul. I care about video game violence, but enough to write something that'll go under someone else's name.

Review Everything: Giant Gummy Worm

(Review Everything is a series where MyGen takes any object We can think of and review it. Food, objects, ideas, you name it, We'll review it as long as you pronounced it correctly. Little attention is given to accuracy or legitimacy. This series was painstakingly created over a series of minutes by people who couldn't care less what you think. Send suggestions to nowedonttakesuggestions@mygen.gov)


Full disclosure: We were given this review build as a belated birthday present by people who thought it would be funny to do so.


Hot on the heels of the wildly successful Giant Gummy Bear, whoever thought it would fucking hilarious and ironic to release such a monstrosity bring us their new shit. It follows the same formula you're now familiar with: take a stupid children's snack and making it ridiculously large so that people think it's a good idea to buy one because dude, they fucking love gummy worms can fulfill their nerd-hipster dreams.

But as a snack, this initial fantasia does not hold up. It's the size of two-foot double-sided dildo with more traction and less potential for mistaking it for a melon-baller. Holding this stupid thing in your hand feels like it was ribbed for your pleasure, not hers. It slides awkwardly down the plastic bag it came it as though it wants to hit the floor as fast as possible so that neither the person involved in eating it or the worm itself has to participate anymore. The ribbing's meant to slow down anyone who'd dare try to hide it like a prison shank. To give you time to think about it. And after a few test sessions of clandestinely clubbing various family and friends reveals ample reason to do so.

And should you decide to stick this physical adianoeta in your mouth, you'll realize how stupid you are about two seconds after your teeth do. I don't know if you're aware of this, reader, but gummy is hard as diamond-tipped fuck. There's good reason gummy food is usually so small. You tear into one of these things like you would a stake, except a steak doesn't want you to end up dead. Not to mention the taste has absolutely no back-end. Which is ironic, given its potential uses.

Choke your kids with it, teach your relatives a lesson, show your mate a horrible what-if scenario should they decide not to listen to your other suggestions. Just don't eat it.

Score: Battery/Swordfish (Confused about our review scale? Oh well, we tried.)

Consider It Curbed

Sony's NGP looks like a technical powerhouse. Two micro-analog sticks, a touch screen, a touch pad, and a host of other features put the device in a different realm from the 3DS. Which is nice, because mimicking Nintendo won't do them any favors. If anything, they're caught in a place where they have to imitate Apple in certain respects, fight Nintendo in others, and separate themselves entirely in yet others. Apple's the current trend-setter and Nintendo has its history, its fans, and its dedicated gaming controls to back it up. Sony's the party that has to validate their continued existence, what with being in third place and all.

But I find myself sort of underwhelmed by the current handheld market as a whole. This may be because neither the 3DS nor the NGP currently have any games that I'm eagerly anticipating. There are plenty of iOS games worth playing, but because most of them serve as distractions rather than full experiences, there isn't a huge wind-up to get the blood going. A good iPhone game is a surprise, not an expectation. I'm sure there are iOS games I'm going to love playing this year, but they'll sneak up on me. I don't think there'll be an iOS game that I'll be looking forward to until I play it. Also, I'm beginning to get the feeling that the iOS gaming trend might waver a little once the market becomes increasingly crowded with attempts to create the next Angry Birds than trying to do something new with the system.

This household's already got the 3DS on lock, so I've thankfully been put in charge of buying the NGP instead of adding another 3DS to the stable. But handhelds costing as much as they do -- there's simply no way the NGP will be cheaper than a 3DS -- I'm increasingly skeptical that either new system can justify its price tag, at least initially. Hopefully, my skepticism about pricing and longevity will eventually fall under the weight of great software and consistent hardware. The three-horse race will hopefully let the consumer win at some point. But right now, I'd hate to be the man forced to place their bets on a single horse.

I'm Dead Inside, They Say

"You just can't get into games as much as other people. You have to think about them like a reviewer."

My brother told me this during a discussion we had about Dead Space. I told him that the sequel had only spooked me once in my brief time with it, so he thought that it was less scary, not having played it himself. I then told him that the first Dead Space didn't scare me either, and he gave me an incredulous look. There was no way I could sit through Dead Space without a jump, a yelp, or a quiver. I was acting tough, the told me. Then, when I insisted, he spoke the above line.

I refuted him, obviously. Just because I was a "reviewer" didn't mean that I couldn't immerse myself as much as other people. Dead Space just didn't scare me. Like an employee at a haunted house, I could walk the claustrophobic halls of the USG Ishimura without wondering what would happen next. I knew what was going to happen. I was going to get attacked by a monster that surprised me. And in Dead Space's case, I'd shoot its limbs off mercilessly. I could take any monster thrown at me. When the spooks busted through the vent, I didn't jump. My heart didn't stop. I'm always expecting the critters, so instead of yelling in surprise, I'm acting like the monster was late to its appointment with my gun.

You could chalk it up to Dead Space's player empowerment, but that's not why. I've played my share of actual survival horror games, the ones that are scary in part because of their poor controls, and they don't scare me either. This hallucination I'm experiencing may look like a hideous nurse, but the worst thing it can do is kill me. Which would send me back the save point, wasting the time and progress I'd made since I saved. That doesn't make me fearful -- it makes me groan. The same thing applies to raising the stakes and making the game a rogue-like.

I'm not pulling a macho act, like my brother suggests. This applies to other emotions as well. A game has never made me cry. They've made laugh, but never to point that my gut would begin to hurt. I smirk and think the joke was clever, most of the time. And I can admit to having been afraid of them before. I couldn't be in the same room as Resident Evil when I was a kid, but that's par for the course. I used to not watch horror movies because of the nightmares they produced; now I don't watch them because of the time they'd waste. (Campy stuff's still fine, though.)

And I don't think this has anything to do with my status as a (amateur) critic either. Sure, I do tend to think in analytical terms, but only during downtime, when I'm looking for at nonevents in the environment. I make assessments. But when a "moment" happens, that's what's on my mind. When I like a game, I'm sitting there thinking to myself "This is enjoyable. I am enjoying this." I'm caught up in the moment. If I took the robotic approach my brother insists I'm taking, everything would feel drab and boring.

Maybe this is why games whose goals are to make you "feel" something don't do much for me. I can admire what they're doing, but I can't get caught up in it. In that sense, I guess I am a robot. There's often a forcefulness, a pushy overtone that I feel is trying to manipulate me, and once I go down that train of thought, my suspension of disbelief is gone. Hopefully that doesn't end up hurting my ability to enjoy things down the road, like I'm enjoying Dead Space 2 right now.

My Super Bowl: EVO 2K

Seems typical for someone with an affinity for video games to proclaim that the Evolution Championship Series would be their Super Bowl. That it'd be the thing that'd have me throwing fits and biting nails for a day like the average football fan does every year, but it's true. The same way people rave about that guy who did that thing that upset everybody in sports, I lose it when Lamerboi jumps into a Dragon Punch that he could've easily avoided. I would've loved to use a specific sports analogy to sound less dismissive, but I couldn't think of one. That's the kind of person I am.

I don't hate the people who take sports too seriously. They're annoying, sure. They can't help but ramble their brains off opining to me things I really could care about. They assume everyone they meet immerses themselves in the sports culture -- they're probably right most of the time anyway -- and so have no barrier, don't question or gauge people's interest. The dismiss people with obsessions on the same level as theirs for lacking focus in the right direction. They generalize people with different interests as I much I am right now. I'm letting off a bit of steam, and I apologize.

But at a fundamental level, I can relate to them. I can't get invested in watching teams and people face off in a real ring, but when it's a digital one, and people are throwing fireballs and doing other impossible things, I'm there. I think it's likely because I can more easily identify with a desire to be like the people I'm watching. I don't want to play any sport well or win an actual fight, but I'd like to be able to pull of some of the insane combo's Daigo can pull off while holding the same stoic look. I actually play Street Fighter, so obviously I'd be more inclined to watch people do something I do.

I've watched that match in its entirety three times. The same way people salivate over amazing replays. And I can't wait for next year's final either. So I can understand the insufferable amount of sports talk I'm going to hear until and after the Super Bowl. And I understand why I won't be able to do the same when EVO rolls around. I'll wish I could, though.

Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt

I feel off the anime bandwagon a years ago. But dismissive as that sounds, that means I used to watch it. I used to love anime. The characters we so cool, the action was intense, and some times, plots could get more intricate and heady than the movies I was watching at the time. Anime has a incredible, over-the-top charm that immediately makes it a divisive form of entertainment (this interest can still be found in me, since I effin' loved No More Heroes). Of course, the rabid and often embarrassing fanbase could be another thing against it gaining any sort of mainstream acceptance.

But, it was inevitable that I'd get to the point where I saw that every anime had several flaws. Unbelievable plot that were dragged out way after their expiration date, cliche-recycling, and undue focus on exposition, and way too much fan service. How many modern animes have a character with a latent ability that's overpowering them? Also, at some point, I couldn't stand the art style. I couldn't sit through a single episode of Code Geass back when that was huge because the art was unbearable. Death Note was the last anime I can remember really getting into.

This is a very circumlocutory way of setting up that Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt was the first anime that's piqued my interest since then. I'm not entirely sure where I first heard about it -- the Anime Vice panel at the bottom of Giant Bomb pages may have been the main culprit --  but for whatever reason, I jumped on it. There's  the obvious element of TNA (which P&G overflows with), but if that was the only reason, then I had many more options to choose from.

I think what attracted me to it was that I assumed that it was anime's take on American animation, as well as a parody of actual anime, a suspicion that, while fairly obvious, turned out to be more accurate than I though it would be. You're given a loose setup (Panty and Stocking are angels who have to kill ghosts in order to get back into heaven), then left to watch a monster-of-the-week framework. After watching the entire first season, I ended up liking it quite a bit, and I can say that without feeling like I'd soon post a video on YouTube compromising any respect I'd earned up to that point.

Everything about P&G is so stupid and crazy that it's hard not to think the show is doing it for effect. It appeals to a very juvenile sense of humor (the first monster they fight is made entirely made of shit), and it makes no appeal to craft any sort of story besides its premise until the very end of the season, which, unfortunately, it's at its worst. Because it doesn't take itself seriously in any real capacity (like so many anime do), the farcical fight scenes are that much easier to swallow, and it makes the show as a whole more enjoyable.

It even manages to deviate adeptly from its insane plot; one episode has a man whose daughter is a fan of Panty and Stocking, being fired from his job and forced to promise his daughter that she'll get to see her idols for her birthday. This episode takes a completely different tone, and it (hopefully) shows that Gainax has more than just fan service and parody planned for the series.

So yeah, I liked Panty & Stocking. Enough to watch it in Japanese with subtitles, something I've never done. I think the fact that it's stupid and it knows it is a huge part of why I can enjoy it without hating myself. And the soundtrack's not bad either.

Electronic Math Blows

I hate working with people. I'm either too focused and what we're supposed to be doing that a lot of my small talk is stilted and awkward, or I'm with people I can actually relate to, in which case nothing gets done. I like working by myself because I can focus on the work I'm doing while still making fun out of it. There are simply things I don't want to do by myself, though (you know when a teacher tells you that you can work in a group or alone? I opt for group work because it's the same assignment either way, and doing it by yourself is usually not the way to do it).

So perhaps, working with a machine might work for me, I thought, as my pre-calculus teacher explained that we'd be doing homework, quizzes, and tests, through a computer that came free with our insanely expensive textbook. It guides you through the problems, has multiple variations of each problem, and there's no waiting to hand in anything, and you're graded automatically. You can't even "fail" a problem, either; a problem is "incomplete" until you get every part of it right. What's not to love?

I don't love its utter lack of usability. Because it's a computer, there's no search-and-destroy problem solving. What I mean by "search-and-destroy" problem solving is that moment when you ask someone where you went wrong on a problem, they look at it for a couple of seconds, and then point to something on your paper and say, "here. You didn't add this number to both sides."

Instead, if you can't figure out what the hell you did wrong, you have to go through the problem step-by-step in a patronizing display of how to do most of something you already know how to do, then revealing, incidentally, what it is you did wrong. Not to mention that it's often something like using mixed numbers instead of improper fractions in the answer field. So much of my experience felt like I was playing a guessing game with formatting, long after I found the answer out.

And when I did legitimately do something wrong, hell if I know why I did it. The correct answer is this. Your answer was this. Figure out why you're an idiot. I may hate working with other people, but at least some things get done faster that way.

Did I mention that book I don't use that came with this stupid software was way too expensive?

Music, Part Deux

Continuing from my last music post, I buckled and picked up the demo for FL Studio 9, a full music suite that comes with a bunch of sweet samples and amps for various instruments. I found it to be the most intuitive music software I've ever used. Most of the free stuff I've downloaded has been right down unusable to someone who's only getting started. FL Studio 9's demo lets you just place notes on a board and go, and I made several loops that I found catchy after messing around with different pitches, velocities, and mixes. I don't know if I've made anything worthy of a full song, but I did find myself listening to stuff I made longer than I probably should've.

But, unfortunately, I could only briefly flirt with the idea of releasing anything. The demo forces you to a very small board, and anything you saved can't be opened until you unlock the full version. Prices for the full version range from $50 for an express version, to $300 for the full pro bundle. Not to mention they advertise these price ranges every time you close the program.

At this point, I think I've found the software I'm most comfortable with. It's all a matter of whether I consider my interest in making music big enough to invest in it. I can't play a single instrument, so a software seems like the easiest -- and cheapest --  way to start. But I can't shake the feeling that without any actual instrumental backing, my songs would sound like a generic collection of claps, drum kicks, and piano loops. If I'm really serious about this, I guess it's time to pony up. I just don' know if I'm serious.

A Look At Target's New Gaming Touch Panel

That title is a little misleading, and I'm sorry about that. But! I did walk into a Target the other day and notice they had a new touchscreen display related to gaming. To set it up, it's basically a guide to help parents or people otherwise ignorant people (I'm not using the term pejoratively) find games that are right for them or whoever they're buying the game for. So, I took it upon myself to take a bunch of pictures of the thing. Photo Blog time!

Here's the start screen. This could appropriately be called the Attract Screen of this "game".

The PS2 was the default system, but I opted to start with the PS3, since it was the first current-gen system I arrived at.

 The selection menu for the PS3. Obviously, the selection is catered the kind of people who'd spend the most amount of money. The 18-34 demographic, if you will. If you won't, my point still stands.

 First up: Black Ops. GaboM5 thinks this Activision people knows how to make good games.

 It's nice to see someone finally take non-Target reviewers down a peg. What the fuck do they know? they haven't even played the games they're reviewing.

 With the possible exception of BioShock 2, this seems pretty spot on for a "similar to" list.

 It's easy to mock this sort of press release-style overview, but it's pretty damn effective, if it's the day before Christmas and something's gotta get bought.

You know what? This is surprisingly accurate. Not quite a bullseye, but close. 

 "Yes! My kid's a fucking nuisance, and this is the best distraction I've found to keep him from prying when mommy's drinking! A+."

With a tag line like that, you're ready for the reviewer big leagues, Alan. You sure you want to be fiction writer? 

Litterally. Litterally the funnest game he's played. I just want to know what he aint' tellin'. 

 Uh. Okay. Okay. Sure.

 Let's hope Army of Two's not a "similar title"

 My phone didn't catch this, but the other "similar title" is Blur. A pretty easy list to make, really. Though I'm surprised Gran Turismo 5's not there.

 Speaking of which! I guess NFS and GT5 do cater to different crowds, but how different is it from Battlefield showing up on the Black Ops page? YOUR SYSTEM IS FLAWED, TARGET. I GOT YOUR ASS.

 Can't argue with that. Well, I could. Nah.

 No reviews, no "similar games". Moving on.

 Dead Rising's decidedly different from the game's we've looked at thus far. Let's take a look.

 What have you bought him before? Your nephew sounds like a distinguished gentleman.

Eh. I don't know. This wouldn't be the list I'd make. They're all kind of open ('cept for AVP), but Assassin's Creed wouldn't be a game I'd recommend right away. 

 Even farther removed from the "mainstream" offerings, and the recommendations are kind of off, aren't they? Since I haven't played any of these games, I can't really be sure.

 They are related they way Scribblnauts and Mario games are.

 Okay, I admit. I set that last caption up. But at least it has the more creative word.

 Having the first game is cheating. But yes, I'll yield. That's pretty accurate.

 Ladies and gents, we have our show-stopper. Undoubtedly, the best DS game out there. You can get new Costumes and clothes!

 STYLE SAVVY MORE LIKE HYPE SAVVY WHAT AN OVERHYPED PIECE OF SHIT

 You know what? Spot-on. I don't want to play any of those games either.

 Sytle Savvy finally has some competition.

 Probably the most accurate list so far.

One review, no similar games. Now this is an indie darling. It's realistic like the game show!

I was going to continue, but I heard radio chatter and decided to book it before this became an even better story. As for the actual conclusion, I don't mind this system too much. Sure, there's lots of flaws with the system, but I doubt Target really wants to go through the trouble of actually vetting these things. Like I said earlier, if your son sent you to Target to get "The Red Dead," this'll be the place you'll want to look.

Bonus!

This is a selection of war movies and docs I found at Kmart. Extra Bonus! My dad's the dude on the right.

Gimme a Day.

I'm gonna keep this one short, but that's only because I'm working on tomorrow's entry. You'll hopefully find the subject matter as interesting as I am.

Had A Great Day Today

Friend who I carpool home from school with's car broke down, so he got his grandpa to give him a ride there. Not really something I payed attention to when he told me. I assumed he had something lined up.

After school, he called a friend of his to give our three-person group a ride. His car broke down on the turning lane of 72nd and Dodge, pretty much the biggest intersection Omaha has. He was pushed by a cop car all the around the bend to a mall parking lot, where all four of us waited for a while until we talked to mall security to give us a jump start. Back in the mall parking lot, we waited for the car to start, which took long enough for my friend's mom (the one I carpool with) to take him to work, leaving the rest of us stranded.

Eventually, the car started, and rolled out of the parking lot. By the time we reached the next turn, the car shorted out on us again, but a quick turn of the ignition turned it on again. I knew it was a bad idea for anyone to drive like this, but I let it happen anyway because I just wanted to get home. We went a long way like this, turning the car on over and over again. Then the car stopped uphill and wouldn't restart, so we decided to cash out chips now and turn on the emergency lights.

After about twenty minutes of calling and texting various people to see if anyone of them could take us home/ tow our car, a stranger pulled over next in front of us and towed us to the gas station close by, after the rope he was using snapped once and was tied again.

He left for work while we waited at the gas station for help. The clerk didn't really mind us being there, but we were still anxious to get the hell out of there. After an hour and a half of unsuccessful calls, and unfruitful visits to the car to see if anything could be done (keep in mind it was 16F outside, so we canned a lot of explorations early), I reached my brother-in-law, who was able to head over.

The owner of the car needed a new battery, so we drove him to a place to get one, then dropped him off back at the gas station; he was waiting for someone to tow him to a shop. I bought him the battery, so dude owes me 114 bucks. I hope I see that money again.

Anyway, that's why I got home at 5:30 today.

Behind the Scenes: Ghost Trick Review

I wrote a review of Ghost Trick. I really liked it. You should read why.

I actually wrote two reviews for the game. The first was over 1000 words long, and went into a more anecdotal territory. Not that this is bad (my actual review does as well), but I didn't feel as though the particular anecdotes I was using were useful. There was a lot of repetition, and I explained the mechanics in more detail than I probably needed.

The other thing was that I wanted to forcefully limit myself. I can't entirely get behind the "as long as it needs to be" style of web reviews. Even when you have infinite space, I like concision. My Lost in Shadow review was 1000 words long, but I felt like that review was a bit tighter, though I could've cut out a couple things if I really had to. I write what I'd like to read, and I usually don't read a review longer than 1000 words, even if I'm interested in that person's opinion. I like reviews that can tell you everything you need to know without going too deep into how the game ticks. There are places for that, but not in reviews. People just need to know if they should buy something, not whether it's the greatest game ever made.

Anyway, I started my review over, and found that having a base to work from (what I thought about each part of the game) helped me summarize things more effectively. I liked the way the review turned out. Though sometimes I do feel like people who write much longer reviews are somehow better than me. But when I do it, it feels like a bad thing. I guess we'll see.

The First of (Likely) Many

Between a review, an essay, and an online class, I'm swamped with writing stuff, so I'll take my first breather today.

I'm Already Round, Thanks.

I'm in my second semester of college, and I don't feel like I'm doing any work towards my major. Last semester, I took a bunch of classes that told me things I already know; keep up with new media changes (way ahead of you, Mass Communications class), don't exposit too hard when writing, really good work is really hard to make, and if you want to get into the business, you have to work really hard and know a lot of people, and that knowing how to put elements together without making them feel forced will lead to better storytelling.

Don't take that to mean I'm some master storytelling for whom all of this is trivial work worthy only of peasants. From what I recall, I didn't do too well at most of 'em. But I never once felt like anything I was learning was going to help me with my job. Granted, one of my classes was mandated by a scholarship and super-grateful for, so I really can't besmirch that part too much. In all honesty, my writing at Bitmob feels like the closest thing I'm doing to further my career, and I've been doing that for about a year and a half without much progress, aside from possibly getting the right people to read my stuff. That's not a whine; I'm saying that these classes don't feel like progress.

Even though my major is English, I hate that I'm being forced into several other classes for the purpose of being "well-rounded." Pre-calc -- a class I took in high school and am only taking because I have to meet a math requirement, a science class, a social science class, and a speech class. The social science class will probably be the one I'll get the most use out of, or maybe the speech. It bothers me that most of the stuff I'm being taught now I've already learned, and am only learning again because of arbitrary requirement. Normally, I'd chalk it up to colleges wanting to keep you as long as possible to squeeze you for as much money as possible, but because my scholarship is school-funded, I'm draining them instead.

Were I able to choose my classes without restrictions, I'd probably take as many composition classes as I possibly could, take one or two actual journalism classes, and a bunch of design and video production classes. For the field I'll (hopefully) be working in one day, that's well-rounded. But because English is a writing major, those classes don't count towards my major. Which means I'll have to wait a few years to take them.

I thought we took care of this "well-rounded" bullshit in high school.

Worker Empathy

There's a special kind of empathy you build when you work a job. When you work somewhere, you get to see the place you work at in a way that you probably didn't realize you were going to when you started. Usually, it's because you don't think about the details of what goes into whatever job you applied for, and you realize just how bad most low-level employees have it. Whether it's the kid working in the Burger King, or the people who're lying through their teeth to sell you something, you can't not have that experience after working somewhere.

This means you're much more likely to feel sorry for the people who work there during or even after you leave. I'm personally more likely to be little nicer to fast-food employees (not complaining when they get an order wrong unless it's  really something I can't fix), after having worked there. Even when it's entirely their fault, I can't help but put myself in their shoes. As an employee at a fast-food place, I was the most colossal fuck-up you could think of. I would routinely take the "hole" -- the window that's set up exclusively to take money when things get busy -- because it meant that I was out of sight and could goof around and just sit at work, which was a no-no. I would routinely walk around the place so I'd look like I was doing something, and it did a number on my legs. The one thing I could never get over when I worked there was how much my feet always hurt no matter what I kind of shoes I tried out there.

This leads to project myself into the people I see working. I want to be the guy who cuts them a break, if not thank them. Because employees at most places aren't ever given slack. The best thing a customer ever did for me was let me keep his dollar change, after saying "Nah, you keep it. you probably deserve it by now, serving people like us. We suck."

I could go on forever reciting anecdotes from my year working at a Burger King, but I'll leave at this for now. Just remember; the dude working the register at a store doesn't really want to be there most of the time any more than you want to talk to them.

LAX

(It's late and I'm tired, so you guys will be getting the first chapter of a twenty-page autobiography I had to write for a class. This is probably the best part of the whole thing, so don't expect too many other reprints.)

(I've recently found out a lot of this is hogwash, and I apologize.)

The blinking lights of commercial airplanes make their way across the night sky as I place my greasy, four-year-old hand on the window pane of the LAX airport. I can't help but watch them; the lights are too attractive, and seeing them travel in fits and starts – they flow visibly for a second, disappear and teleport the next – I begin to think about the people on-board. Who would want to be heading out into the sky so late? Where are they all going? What are they doing that's so important they have to miss out on the regular sleep cycle to fly in an airplane?

I've just landed, and I already feel like going to bed. My family's in the midst of getting ready to leave; there are several adult conversations going on, none of which I can begin to understand. The only thing I know is that they involve my family and another family, and that we would be living with this other family for a while. I don't know them, so I'm inclined to separate myself from the unknown. So, for the time being, I'm busying myself with the lives of the hundreds of passengers that I'll never know.

I say I'm busying myself, which makes it sound like I have a choice. But really, I'm using the corner space I'm given because the rest of airport is scary to me. Thousands of people move across at all kinds of speeds, and my mother has already warned me that if I get lost, she won't go looking for me. She figures someone will find me and adopt me, and I'll have to live with them instead. Did I want that? No, I told her. First, because I knew that if I said yes, I would like to live with another family, there would dire repercussions. And second, I didn't know any of the families well enough to really want to live with them. I didn't even understand what they were saying.

And since my brothers are off with my dad somewhere, and my sister is holding my mom's hand, I'm the odd one out. My Mickey Mouse plush doll with a vinyl head I against the world. Against the LAX, anyway.

But even as I look around the airport (having abandoned my wonderment at the airplanes outside), the biggest monument to American culture I'd ever seen that wasn't on a T.V. screen, I can't help but be fascinated with everything on display. Bright signs are selling food I want in a language I can't read, loud announcements of what planes are coming and going blare over the loudest speakers I've ever heard, and the most horribly enticing smells compel me to disobey my standing orders. I've only been in America for about an hour, and I can already tell that we're going to get along.

Soon enough we leave the airport and head for the other family's house. I'm still in awe of all the signs, all the wonders that America has already shown me. My mother tells me to fall asleep, but I've already slept enough on the plane, I tell her. I want to see everything. There's so much new information to process in all the commercialism being presented, that I'm eager to dig into this new culture, to tear it apart for information. I don't care why I'm here. Everything around me excites me so much that even my hunger is watching all of the lights.

It won't be until much later that I realize the gravity of what's happening right now: I'm escaping a middle-class culture in a nation that's just now recovering from one of its biggest economic crises in years, and heading into middle-class culture in a nation full of opportunity, of growth. Legally, I shouldn't even be here; my family took the names of the other family to get here. We'd sort out the whole “citizenship” thing later. For now, I just want to look all the new things outside my window. All the opportunity ahead of me.

Music

I've wanted to really dig into a music-making software program for a while now. I beatbox in the shower, and usually, stuff that wouldn't even be considered beatboxing by most people. I have these very simple rhythms and beats in my head all the time, and I often think to myself that I should try to learn how to make the stuff I'm thinking about actual music.

'Cept every time I seriously pursue this, most of the free software for this kind of stuff is incredibly intimidating. I usually listen to a lot the samples, and even the sample songs, which are usually pretty good. When I try to actually get something done, I get lost in all the pitch and time-changing with tones, and a bunch of other stuff I there's probably a name for. I can't make it too long before I realize what a colossal work goes into doing anything resembling a song that I hang it before too long.

There was a week or so where I contemplated just recording myself beatboxing several samples and then use Audacity, the one audio software I'm familiar with, to see if I can learn to make something. All of my recordings sounded terrible -- whether it was the Rock Band mic I was using or me I don't know for sure -- and I lost interest in that too.

I'd really like to experiment music, but all of the free stuff I can't handle and I can't dedicate myself enough to it to buy an actual machine. Any of you guys have suggestions for someone who's not very good with this sort of thing?

Video Games: The Other Kind of Book.

I'm going to break down a fairly arbitrary list of "The Arts" (capitalized because they're all so very important) in order from high-brow to low-brow. Some of you may not like this list.

1. Books
2. Film
3. Music
4. TV
5. "The video-games"

Now, pretty much all of you will tell me that this list is bullshit in one way or another. You're probably right. I shouldn't have ranked them in the first place. But this isn't my personal list. It's the list I imagine most people who unironically call themselves "intellectuals" would make if asked. Snobs, all of them. you could make the argument that music is higher art than film or whatever, but what's important here are the ends: books are at the top, and video games are the bottom. Now, I'm sure you don't agree with this order (as I've said a bunch of times already), but would you agree that this is sort of the way the average person would rank them? Even people who love video games might rank these things the same way. But the "self-depreciating culture of gamers" diatribe has already been been written. I think.

I've always found it interesting that the bookends (pardon the loose pun) are what I'd call active entertainment. Film, Music, and TV all happen without your go-ahead; you're a captive audience, in a way. They will proceed without any action on your part. You can control the flow of narrative, but that's optional. And a recent development.

In both books and video games, you're forced to do the storytelling yourself. You have to physically engage yourself in the story to see it through. Both books and video games both have linear narratives. Now, games offer more freedom of expression in that regard, but most modern games have a set story, and your goal as the player is to see it play out. Many games have diverging storylines, but so do some books. Choose-your-own-adventure stories are one example. House of Leaves is another, different example, with its many diversions and sub-plot. 

The big difference in a storytelling sense is that it's harder to advance the story in game than in a book, and that brings me to my next point. When comparing games to books, we usually only see the storytelling side. But when you expand the point to all of books, you can spot another clear comparison: textbooks. Video games that don't focus on story (your Pac-Mans, Mario's, etc) focus on learning a system and using it to complete a challenge, the same way that a math textbook would; they introduce a concept, show you how it works, have you apply it in several ways. A review, and then a test. 

When you combine the two comparisons, you get a pretty good metaphor for what video games are: a textbook with a story. You know those "story problems" you encountered in high school that made you angry because you couldn't work them out, or because you thought Sally was an idiot for holding three apples in her hand when she was the supermarket because she could've just used a bag? Turns out, that's kind of what video games are.

I don't mean to degrade the quality of storytelling in games, but you see my point. Video games are much closer to Books than anyone gives them credit for, and maybe we could use this to shape our discussions in games. Video games take a lot from movies, television, and music, but their closest relative is actually the book. Maybe now we could move video games' position on that list I made up a notch.

A Blog About Hats

In the last year, I've taken quite a liking to baseball caps. I don't know why I like them, but I know when it happened; during the summer, I really hate the way the sun shines. I know I can't do anything about it, either, so I wear hats instead. I like the way hats feel on my head, obviously. But it also complements my other change recently: keeping my hair super-short. Shaved short.When my hair gets too long, my hat feels wrong when I wear it, so I know when to cut my hair. These two forces mean I don't have to put to much work into my hair. At least, I don't think it does. Does it?

The problem I've encountered is that I've lost all sense of knowing when and when not to wear them. Is it wrong to wear them inside all day? The sun's not there and I can control all the other lighting, so it feels kind of weird, like doing the same thing with sunglasses. In high school, there was a strict "hats off in the building" policy, so even when I gained my initial interest, I couldn't take it as far as I wanted to. Now, professors and the like could care less who you are, let alone what you're wearing, so I can wear hats at school now too. That fact that I'm even writing this much about hats makes me think this whole thing is unhealthy.

A Poem. About Snow.

A million things have to happen today
I can only accomplish five, and I feel like
if I get to do anything that I like, it's a good
day. Everyone is in a hurry, because their
million things are also important to them.
Clear the roads, they say, so we can do
ten thousand more things. The driveway
needs clearing, the test is postponed.
Doesn't matter to me, though; I can look at a
million little pricks of white, and say that I'm
relaxed, and the million things can wait. Don't
they get it? With a sky this thick, you can meet
the sun face to face. It can't hide its mighty glare
anymore. Fuck, I'm at Best Buy now. Three-
hundred thousand things were done today.

Picky Picky

Not being able to decide between any number of things to buy or do must be a trait I've inherited. I drove around the commercial district with my dad this afternoon for about four hours, looking for a single camera. You know, to take pictures with. On a vacation he's leaving for in a week. He kept telling me not to hurry him, but that's the risk you take when you suddenly decide on something like that. For the record, he wouldn't have time to make the buy any other time until he leaves, so this was a bit of hurried purchase to begin with.

Not that I'm much better. I can't decide between Cheese Ruffles and BBQ Lays at the gas station. And I always end up getting something else anyway. I've been on more than one late-night excursion with friends where ordering ended up taking longer than the rest of the visit. And we'll get something completely different than what we wanted than when we came in. We joke about how stupid we are to be doing something like that, then we can't do it anyway. An ironic snake eating it's own plaid tail.

I should probably do something about this. Indecisiveness can't be a good thing. And it's not really like I'm looking for the best or the most bang for my buck, either; I usually know what I'll be getting, but can't help but worry about whatever ramifications eating French toast over regular eggs and pancakes will bring. I should buy a timer that shocks me when I take too long. I'll make the same decision either way.

'Negro' is a Spanish Word Too, You Know

Of course, "negro" is not "nigger", the word that's been replaced by "Slave," in Huckleberry Finn in newer editions. I won't dive into a debate about who's right or what's offensive to whom; that's not the point of this post. Besides, you've probably heard and read countless viewpoints about the topic from several people you know or respect. And, having not yet read Huck Finn, I can't exactly have as strong a say as those who have, could I? Eh, maybe, but in either case, that's not what I want to do here.

But as someone who speaks Spanish as much as they speak English, I've perhaps found both "negro," and "nigger" less offensive. Negro, specifically, is commonly used in Spanish, since it's literally "black". The stove is black. Es negro. It's a harmless term to us. But recently, knowing full well the context of the term negro, I've had a reversal. My dad told me to lock my door in the Wal-Mart parking lot because there were "negros" there (remember, in Spanish). Disregarding the racism of the actual context of the sentence (referring to black people specifically as people who steal), I know he wasn't trying to be racist by using the word. But the actual term, along with its racial context, still caused me to call attention to it.

Still, I still use negro to describe things that are black. I have to. Saying that black things are "oscuro" (dark) is not too far from saying that black things are African-American, as funny as it sounds. It's not like I don't recognize the difference and say negro when referring to something black in English. Just saying it with a American dialect ("knee-grow" in English vs. "neh-groh" in Spanish) changes the word. "Moreno" is another story entirely. And for the record, neither should be banned from books to appease teachers who think that simple being around a word affiliates you with its context.

So I Tried Watching Blade Runner This Morning

I got about forty minutes into it before I decided I should go take a break, then haven't gone back to it. I turn my brain off around this point in most movies, and I've had to take several brakes during any movie that's longer than ninety minutes long, or isn't completely grabbing me.

I don't know what it is, really. I'm tempted to say that I just have a short attention span. I can usually get through a whole movie if I watch it in a theater, but I don't know if that reinforces that fact or disputes it. I've spent way longer watching tens of videos on the internet. Maybe it's that when I watch a movie at home I'm easily distracted by the computer, and at the computer I have access to all the things I constantly check? I tried watching a movie away from my computer once, but that failed. I tried again with the TweetDeck app on my iPod, but that didn't make it much farther.

Even with stuff like Memento and Taxi Driver, which I just watched last year and would easily rank among my favorites off all time, I still find it difficult to watch a whole movie from beginning to end outside of a theater. I honestly, I don't really like going to theaters. I feel like I'm a captive since I paid money to see a movie there. It happens with games, too, but only if I'm not too invested. Even then, I'll take frequent breaks to do other stuff when I don't really have anything important to do right at that moment.

Maybe I'm that douchebag everyone references when they say that the internet has ruined our culture, turned is into mindless multi-taskers or whatever. I don't feel like it. I mean, I make fun of people who whine on Facebook all the time. I hope I'm not a hypocrite.

Friends Through Language Barriers

My dad can understand English, for the most part. Early on in our lives in America, he decided to take several ESL courses to enhance his English-speaking skills, so that he'd be able to get a better job, one that didn't involve working with bosses who were screwing him out of pay just because they knew he didn't have many options. Even after we moved to Nebraska, he continued to take the courses, long after my mom stopped taking them. Short version, he can now communicate effectively, as long as you keep it simple.

Anyway, in his most recent round of ESL courses, he met someone in a similar situation. My dad's friend was a Japanese immigrant who also needed to learn English to get a better job, and they became friends through the most recent course. After a few months, around Thanksgiving of '09, he invited him and his wife to come eat with us, which is when I formally met him (he'd been by a couple of times, but never long enough for me to get to know him).

To me, their interactions are as heartwarming as they are funny. These two men are bound together by a language neither completely understands, and so they make heavy use of gestures and other forms of sign language to get their points across, and use English to tie their messages together. They talk about cars, wine, sports, and a variety of other topics using their hands more than their mouths, and it seems to work, as far as I can tell.

For whatever reason, it reminds me of children, who connect their disjointed sentences with motions to help them communicate. Watching two grown men break down language barriers this way reminds me of the power of human ingenuity. Is it wrong that every time I see them together, and can't help but say," Awww..."? As though I were patronizing them? I hope not.

I'm not a Media Expert

My Steam "Favorites" list, which I use to keep track of what games I haven't played but want to, is over twenty-five items long. My Netflix Queue is over 200. My Amazon Book and Music lists are expanding rapidly. And what am I doing with my last week of from school? Watching the Deadly Premonition Endurance Run on Giant Bomb.

You could call it procrastinating. It more or less is. But for me, telling myself that I have to play Braid, watch Blade Runner, read The Drunkard's Walk, and listen to London Calling is starting to feel like work. So I just do the "fun" thing and play games I've already played, listen to my iTunes library on shuffle, and read magazines while watching T.V. that's just there to be background noise. These enormous laundry lists are starting to pile up, so I should probably cut down and prioritize, since the intimidation of pure size is probably why I avoid them.

This comes from a side of me that believes I should be "Media Literate." My childhood was deprived ("deprived" my be too strong a word here) of some of the basic media experiences, and so I'd like to go back and catch up as much as a I can, to expand my point of reference. But I always wonder if I really need to.

If I really wanna watch Blade Runner, I'll do it at some point. Maybe there'll be a party. I mean, I'm doing a pretty good job of watching Burn Notice regularly (YOUCOULDSAYIMBURNINGTHROUGHITBOOM).

On Writing Creatively

I took a creative writing workshop class last semester. Being one of my first college courses period, it was definitely an interesting experience. Aside from reading short stories from a variety of authors and comparing their storytelling methods (which we usually decided were outdated and "worked for the time"), we graded and talked about each of the four stories we wrote in that class. Hashing out minor details pertaining to consistency, continuity, and flow, as well as learning to balance exposition with narrative, was actually the best part about that class. My nervous tick kicked in whenever it was my turn to read my story out loud (which meant my voice and hands were both shaking), but I enjoyed getting to comment on the works of others. It felt like a had a role in shaping the fiction of others, which is something people rarely get to do. Sure, most of the stories weren't great, but I still like a lot of the discussions the authors had about their work.

But the class did make me realize something important, something that I should probably keep in mind going forward: I'm an awful novelist. This isn't a self-hating statement meant to show my modesty; I just realized that most of the stories and worlds I think up don't really work within a completely literary model. I hate detailing every last bit of information about a character's clothes, mannerism, and attitude. I'd rather let visual cues do that for me. Maybe I'm just too lazy to flesh out characters in that way, but I found that I like to skip most details and get to story points.

That's probably influenced by the fact that when I read books, I tend to ignore specific details about a character and just make up my own look based on what I know about them. So I'm wont to have the reader do the same in whatever fiction it is I'm writing, or just use the explicit nature of a screen to my advantage.

Maybe that's why I've stopped reading novels, for the most part. House of Leaves was the last real novel I've read all the way through, and I've leaned more towards argumentative works in recent years. Also, anyone who's read House of Leaves will tell you that it doesn't focus on detailing the environment or characters in extreme detail.

I know that there are probably thousands of novels that would cater to my sensibilities nowadays, but Ulysses is the only one that I've mustered up any interest in. Sounds heretical, I know, but when it comes to fiction, I suppose I'm the kind of person who'd rather see what something looks like than be told about it. Besides, when I read a novel, Edward Norton is usually the main character anyway.

One A Day Introduction

In an effort to blog more consistently, I've joined The One A Day project, something to get people to write more quickly and to get themselves out there on a consistent basis. After reading some of the entires that showed a huge amount of promise, I'd decided that I could use a daily incentive.

I'm going to try as hard as a I can to not write about video games. Namely, because I want to write without feeling the critical mind hovering behind me, telling me that what I'm writing isn't fit for publication. When I write about games, I put in as much effort as possible to make sure it's fit to print on the front page of a major website. Here, I could care less. So, all of you who came here daily for the latest word on video games will have to find somewhere else to go. Bummer, I know. You still read my stuff on Bitmob, though! That enterprise will never end.

So what will happen here? I don't rightly know. I've got a few things in mind for this place, and most of them still adhere to the title of this place, provided you get really abstract with interpretations. Whatever they are, I hope you all read them. Because it'd be a dumb to write without anyone reading. Because I've never done that before.