Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Monday, September 19, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Old Republic Beta Diaries: Sith Marauder Level 1-20
Yes, I am extremely lucky to have gotten into this Beta; it is a timely boon considering I don't know how much time I will truly have to invest in the finished produce once I start Graduate School in the fall.
After waiting hours for the monstrous game file to download, I immediately chose the path that I will eventually go down in the final release: the Sith Warrior.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
First Hobbit Stills!
Wow this is unexpected and f'ing awesome. Entertainment weekly snagged some early Hobbit stills, and everything looks pretty darn spot on. Lord of the Rings was the "Star Wars" of our generation, and I have no doubts that Hobbit movies are going to be more of the same, if not even more badass.
Hell if they can do for Smaug what they did for Gollum, this series will be undeniably timeless.
Hell if they can do for Smaug what they did for Gollum, this series will be undeniably timeless.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
A Game of Content
Long time, amiright?
It's been hard to get some lucid content that isn't just trailers or funny short videos. Ideally, the rate at which I would like to be churning out content would be equal to the speed at which it is delivered over the interwebz, but frankly there have been a whole host of things that have diverted my mind elsewhere; ideally, all these new things are great for blogger contemplation, so for the sake of getting some much needed writing exercise, I thought I would do a stream of consciousness piece that would explore some of the things that have piqued my interest, and examine some of the things that have commanded my attention.
The NBA Finals
On paper, these Finals are joke. As if the NBA couldn't have planned it any better for their commercial viability, the Miami Heat are finally at full strength. Any way you look at the current matchups with the Dallas Mavericks, there is just no way you can completely shut the Heat down; conversely, there are several ways to derail the Mavericks (double team Dirk down to 35% shooting and make their bench beat you) and it just so happens that Miami has also one of the quickest and most athletic defenses in the league that is up to the task.
Talent wise, watching the Heat is like watching a constant highlight reel that can pretty much score without any set play, while the Mavericks is like watching a bunch of cagey veterans flip through a book of plays and then have to get into a half court set to free up their shooters and get any sort of offense.
I'll save my breath for the ref conspiracy theories, but I have already witnessed some blatant no-calls that were going Miami's way in Game 1. If you look at it from purely a financial "bottom line," the NBA needs the Heat to win; David Stern wants LeBron to validate himself in the wake of last Summer's PR nightmare that was "The Decision," and ascend to the rank of our generation's "Basketball Jesus." The conflict that LeBron created was good for dialogue and selling tickets, but I am sure the NBA would rather the top player of an era be as loved as MJ was (even though he was kind of a dick). Honestly, even though these Finals will be predictable, I'll still watch because the talent in tandem of Wade and James is undeniably entertaining. Also, the last living Neanderthal named "Dirk" can shoot the "J," y'all!
I know what you're thinking : I claim to have no time to write, yet I created a Facebook Account for my dog? It was a dare turned fun little exercise, as trying to picture how "Gus" views the world has been an legitimate time-killer.
I am sure if everyone who owned a pet tried to analyze and synthesize each of their individual quirks, you would come to find that these creatures that live with us actually have quite robust personalities. My dog Gus, for instance, is mortally terrified of grates and sewer drains, and I can't for the life of me figure out why. The phobia has gotten worse with age, yet he has never had a traumatic experience that would lend itself to the aversion or his behavior; hell, my parents' beagle/retriever dog is probably the smartest animal I know, and she has had a myriad of traumatic sprays to the face from skunks and never put 2 and 2 together that she probably shouldn't go sniffing that creature's ass.
It's funny, because while the fear Gus developed of vortexes he can't see into is completely instinctively rational, the behavior he exhibits is a little loopy : if I were on a normal sized residential street walking down the center, and there was a sewer drainage ditch to my right twenty feet away, and I took one step toward that ditch while he is on the leash, you would think that I suddenly was dragging him toward a pit of vipers the speed at which he puts the breaks on; he will desperately run the other direction. However, if I were going down the middle of the street, and I released Gus from his leash while the ditch was in sight, he would actually run right over to it and stick his whole damn head down the hole sniffing and examining it. Clearly, the rationale is: human + leash + hole = puppy spelunking.
Meh, the kid's cute - so I put up with it.
Back in April, I explored how awesome the existence of HBO's Game of Thrones was, and how far fantasy as a genre had come that it could get such a big budget, hard-R adaptation. Having not read a lick of the novels the show was based on, I noticed several initial similarities that seem to be pervasive through almost all the popular modern fantasy series of the last 20 years, similarities to me that had become trite and predictable, and I hoped that this series would not follow a similar arc.
Crises fucking averted.
Three weeks ago I started George R.R. Martin's A Song of Fire and Ice series. Three weeks later, I am 3500 pages into the series, having finished A Game of Thrones , A Clash of Kings , A Storm of Swords, and am currently blazing through A Feast for Crows - and finally officially at only the midpoint of Martin's epic.
Listen, I know many of you will only watch the show, so I will not spoil anything. I was peeved a few weeks back when it seemed that the show was vaulting ahead on some plot points faster than I could read, and was already spoiling material I hadn't gotten to in the books; now I am comfortably in a place where I can enjoy both the show and the books for what they are. I can only hope the show stays alive to do the major plot developments and characterizations justice (so far so good on that front), because everyone is in for an amazing treat (if I did a 1:1 comparison on how much ground the show covers in a week in relation to the books, I am at about episode 37).
Martin's A Song of Fire and Ice is the series that shatters the fantasy paradigm established by The Lord of the Rings and the clones that followed. In Tolkien's LOTR, there is black and white - good and evil - with very few shades of grey in between. The bad guys are literal monsters, while the good guys are human or some dwarf or elf variation. It's probably shouldn't be a shock that one of the most memorable and deepest characters is the one that also diverts from the black and white formula s so prevalent in the series (and also happens to be literally grey) : Gollum. There are subplots to be sure, but it all serves to feed back into main story and theme. Yet, the language and history have always been the deepest, the characters the coolest, and the battles were epic.
For years, trudging through fantasy post-LOTR has been like reading lesser variations of Tolkien's masterpiece. No one really attempted to break away from the norm (save for introducing sex) that there exists Good and Evil, and the hero could be altruistic to a fault but still end up triumphing. Why? The stories were easy to churn out and accessible, the characters familiar and identifiable, but the plots became rote and predictable.
Then came A Song of Fire and Ice in the 90's. George R.R. Martin's initial novel, A Game of Thrones , was lauded by everyone in the business as a literary masterwork and technical achievement, yet it never reached best seller status until it was announced in 2008 that HBO would be adapting it. Not only have the four books that have been released since then (released 4-6 years apart from each other) achieved multiple literary awards, but inside the jacket of each book exists paragraph after paragraph of only the highest praise from the best-selling fantasy writers of our time. If you read between the lines of their praise, you would understand that THIS was the series they wish they were capable of.
Again, how could something of this magnitude that insiders were raving about not achieve commercial success until the brilliant minds of HBO declared it worthy of throwing down damn near sixty million dollars?
Because it's a once in a lifetime genre-busting game changer. Everything that was comfortably established by Tolkien is gone. In A Song of Fire and Ice , the characters aren't easily identifiable - there IS no black and white, because only the grey can survive in this world. These characters are real people with real motivations and very adult cravings acting as if they would have existed in a historical medieval setting where there just so happens to also exist fantasy elements; Martin based the idea of the series on the historical machinations of the ruling families during the War of the Roses, and as a result the plot is probably the richest account of political intrigue in the entirety of the genre, one that at times is Shakespearean in its level of tragedy.
In the fantasy world of the Seven Kingdoms, Westeros, there are no magic bullets or plot devices to save our heroes and defeat the perceived evil; you play the "game of thrones" or you die. Ancient family Houses position and reposition themselves with Machiavellian plots that are so complex that at any one time there could be up to 15 individual characters with their own motivations who are affecting the progression of the story. As kings fall, the lines of family succession and codes of conduct and morality are so complex that each novel comes with an almost 70 page appendix of names and descriptions of the Houses "Great and Small" and everything in between.
But wait, isn't this a fantasy novel? 3500 pages into the series and just now are some of the traditional threads of fantasy being woven in, albeit with sublime subtlety. Even if you are watching the show, there is nothing really overtly magical happening. At the point I am at, there are so many characters who follow so many schisms of religions, one could guess that the gods are as diverse and morally grey as the characters that worship them; hell they too even could even be playing a "game of thrones" themselves. This fantasy elements are not forced, nor does they need to be to hold our attention - it is the richness and diversity of the characters who may emerge to the forefront, only to recede or die shockingly.
This is very much an adult series in every sense of the word (sexy wenches!), and readers are quick to learn that established characters' fates are highly unpredictable. Though the series seems on the surface to be about a few powerful people and families, Martin changes the script and establishes early on in the novels that it's not only kings that decide the fate of man, but also seemingly lesser individuals whose actions may have consequences that create ripples throughout the giant world they live in. What higher praise could be said of a story but that it captures the vulnerability of men and women, both great and small; they all may die, while those who live change. Through it all, the characters have life .
For all the political intrigue, I will say that my favorite story follows that of the Stark bastard Jon Snow and his snow-white direwolf "Ghost." I won't say too much, but his position on the Wall guarding the north removes his character from the game of thrones that happens far to the south. If I would venture a guess, I would say that Snow has to also be Martin's favorite character to write about, as his adventures with Ghost follow a more traditional fantasy model, and Jon himself is in the vein of an archetypical fantasy hero. I have already learned to stop trying to predict the fates of characters as the series is far from over, but the stakes that exist for Jon are a little higher than winning a throne. There is a Helms Deep moment on the Wall that I will look forward to seeing on any screen.
I should be finishing up A Feast For Crows just in time for the release of A Dance With Dragons which comes out in June. Hopefully, I won't have to wait 6 years like some people for the next book, as I hope George R.R. Martin has a Stephen King like crises of mortality Dark Tower moment and churn out the two remaining chapters sooner rather than later.
As the show concludes book 1, I will go over some important questions that the viewers should be asking themsleves.
After my upcoming one-year anniversary with my lovely wife, I am hoping to catch up on some more writing. Look forward to a Bridesmaids Vs. Hangover piece, an X-Men review, and some coverage and contemplation on what is to be revealed at the videogame expo, E3. Right now, I am going to go devour another 500 pages of A Feast for Crows and wait on bated breath for it's follow up.
It's been hard to get some lucid content that isn't just trailers or funny short videos. Ideally, the rate at which I would like to be churning out content would be equal to the speed at which it is delivered over the interwebz, but frankly there have been a whole host of things that have diverted my mind elsewhere; ideally, all these new things are great for blogger contemplation, so for the sake of getting some much needed writing exercise, I thought I would do a stream of consciousness piece that would explore some of the things that have piqued my interest, and examine some of the things that have commanded my attention.
The NBA Finals
On paper, these Finals are joke. As if the NBA couldn't have planned it any better for their commercial viability, the Miami Heat are finally at full strength. Any way you look at the current matchups with the Dallas Mavericks, there is just no way you can completely shut the Heat down; conversely, there are several ways to derail the Mavericks (double team Dirk down to 35% shooting and make their bench beat you) and it just so happens that Miami has also one of the quickest and most athletic defenses in the league that is up to the task.
Talent wise, watching the Heat is like watching a constant highlight reel that can pretty much score without any set play, while the Mavericks is like watching a bunch of cagey veterans flip through a book of plays and then have to get into a half court set to free up their shooters and get any sort of offense.
 |
| Yep, it's pretty much like an unfair NBA Jam game. |
I'll save my breath for the ref conspiracy theories, but I have already witnessed some blatant no-calls that were going Miami's way in Game 1. If you look at it from purely a financial "bottom line," the NBA needs the Heat to win; David Stern wants LeBron to validate himself in the wake of last Summer's PR nightmare that was "The Decision," and ascend to the rank of our generation's "Basketball Jesus." The conflict that LeBron created was good for dialogue and selling tickets, but I am sure the NBA would rather the top player of an era be as loved as MJ was (even though he was kind of a dick). Honestly, even though these Finals will be predictable, I'll still watch because the talent in tandem of Wade and James is undeniably entertaining. Also, the last living Neanderthal named "Dirk" can shoot the "J," y'all!
 |
| Dirk shoot ball! Dirk happy! |
My Dog has a Facebook!
I know what you're thinking : I claim to have no time to write, yet I created a Facebook Account for my dog? It was a dare turned fun little exercise, as trying to picture how "Gus" views the world has been an legitimate time-killer.
I am sure if everyone who owned a pet tried to analyze and synthesize each of their individual quirks, you would come to find that these creatures that live with us actually have quite robust personalities. My dog Gus, for instance, is mortally terrified of grates and sewer drains, and I can't for the life of me figure out why. The phobia has gotten worse with age, yet he has never had a traumatic experience that would lend itself to the aversion or his behavior; hell, my parents' beagle/retriever dog is probably the smartest animal I know, and she has had a myriad of traumatic sprays to the face from skunks and never put 2 and 2 together that she probably shouldn't go sniffing that creature's ass.
It's funny, because while the fear Gus developed of vortexes he can't see into is completely instinctively rational, the behavior he exhibits is a little loopy : if I were on a normal sized residential street walking down the center, and there was a sewer drainage ditch to my right twenty feet away, and I took one step toward that ditch while he is on the leash, you would think that I suddenly was dragging him toward a pit of vipers the speed at which he puts the breaks on; he will desperately run the other direction. However, if I were going down the middle of the street, and I released Gus from his leash while the ditch was in sight, he would actually run right over to it and stick his whole damn head down the hole sniffing and examining it. Clearly, the rationale is: human + leash + hole = puppy spelunking.
 |
| Nope, you're right Gus. Fuck that. |
Meh, the kid's cute - so I put up with it.
One Series to Rule Them All
Back in April, I explored how awesome the existence of HBO's Game of Thrones was, and how far fantasy as a genre had come that it could get such a big budget, hard-R adaptation. Having not read a lick of the novels the show was based on, I noticed several initial similarities that seem to be pervasive through almost all the popular modern fantasy series of the last 20 years, similarities to me that had become trite and predictable, and I hoped that this series would not follow a similar arc.
Crises fucking averted.
Three weeks ago I started George R.R. Martin's A Song of Fire and Ice series. Three weeks later, I am 3500 pages into the series, having finished A Game of Thrones , A Clash of Kings , A Storm of Swords, and am currently blazing through A Feast for Crows - and finally officially at only the midpoint of Martin's epic.
Listen, I know many of you will only watch the show, so I will not spoil anything. I was peeved a few weeks back when it seemed that the show was vaulting ahead on some plot points faster than I could read, and was already spoiling material I hadn't gotten to in the books; now I am comfortably in a place where I can enjoy both the show and the books for what they are. I can only hope the show stays alive to do the major plot developments and characterizations justice (so far so good on that front), because everyone is in for an amazing treat (if I did a 1:1 comparison on how much ground the show covers in a week in relation to the books, I am at about episode 37).
Martin's A Song of Fire and Ice is the series that shatters the fantasy paradigm established by The Lord of the Rings and the clones that followed. In Tolkien's LOTR, there is black and white - good and evil - with very few shades of grey in between. The bad guys are literal monsters, while the good guys are human or some dwarf or elf variation. It's probably shouldn't be a shock that one of the most memorable and deepest characters is the one that also diverts from the black and white formula s so prevalent in the series (and also happens to be literally grey) : Gollum. There are subplots to be sure, but it all serves to feed back into main story and theme. Yet, the language and history have always been the deepest, the characters the coolest, and the battles were epic.
For years, trudging through fantasy post-LOTR has been like reading lesser variations of Tolkien's masterpiece. No one really attempted to break away from the norm (save for introducing sex) that there exists Good and Evil, and the hero could be altruistic to a fault but still end up triumphing. Why? The stories were easy to churn out and accessible, the characters familiar and identifiable, but the plots became rote and predictable.
Then came A Song of Fire and Ice in the 90's. George R.R. Martin's initial novel, A Game of Thrones , was lauded by everyone in the business as a literary masterwork and technical achievement, yet it never reached best seller status until it was announced in 2008 that HBO would be adapting it. Not only have the four books that have been released since then (released 4-6 years apart from each other) achieved multiple literary awards, but inside the jacket of each book exists paragraph after paragraph of only the highest praise from the best-selling fantasy writers of our time. If you read between the lines of their praise, you would understand that THIS was the series they wish they were capable of.
Again, how could something of this magnitude that insiders were raving about not achieve commercial success until the brilliant minds of HBO declared it worthy of throwing down damn near sixty million dollars?
Because it's a once in a lifetime genre-busting game changer. Everything that was comfortably established by Tolkien is gone. In A Song of Fire and Ice , the characters aren't easily identifiable - there IS no black and white, because only the grey can survive in this world. These characters are real people with real motivations and very adult cravings acting as if they would have existed in a historical medieval setting where there just so happens to also exist fantasy elements; Martin based the idea of the series on the historical machinations of the ruling families during the War of the Roses, and as a result the plot is probably the richest account of political intrigue in the entirety of the genre, one that at times is Shakespearean in its level of tragedy.
In the fantasy world of the Seven Kingdoms, Westeros, there are no magic bullets or plot devices to save our heroes and defeat the perceived evil; you play the "game of thrones" or you die. Ancient family Houses position and reposition themselves with Machiavellian plots that are so complex that at any one time there could be up to 15 individual characters with their own motivations who are affecting the progression of the story. As kings fall, the lines of family succession and codes of conduct and morality are so complex that each novel comes with an almost 70 page appendix of names and descriptions of the Houses "Great and Small" and everything in between.
But wait, isn't this a fantasy novel? 3500 pages into the series and just now are some of the traditional threads of fantasy being woven in, albeit with sublime subtlety. Even if you are watching the show, there is nothing really overtly magical happening. At the point I am at, there are so many characters who follow so many schisms of religions, one could guess that the gods are as diverse and morally grey as the characters that worship them; hell they too even could even be playing a "game of thrones" themselves. This fantasy elements are not forced, nor does they need to be to hold our attention - it is the richness and diversity of the characters who may emerge to the forefront, only to recede or die shockingly.
This is very much an adult series in every sense of the word (sexy wenches!), and readers are quick to learn that established characters' fates are highly unpredictable. Though the series seems on the surface to be about a few powerful people and families, Martin changes the script and establishes early on in the novels that it's not only kings that decide the fate of man, but also seemingly lesser individuals whose actions may have consequences that create ripples throughout the giant world they live in. What higher praise could be said of a story but that it captures the vulnerability of men and women, both great and small; they all may die, while those who live change. Through it all, the characters have life .
For all the political intrigue, I will say that my favorite story follows that of the Stark bastard Jon Snow and his snow-white direwolf "Ghost." I won't say too much, but his position on the Wall guarding the north removes his character from the game of thrones that happens far to the south. If I would venture a guess, I would say that Snow has to also be Martin's favorite character to write about, as his adventures with Ghost follow a more traditional fantasy model, and Jon himself is in the vein of an archetypical fantasy hero. I have already learned to stop trying to predict the fates of characters as the series is far from over, but the stakes that exist for Jon are a little higher than winning a throne. There is a Helms Deep moment on the Wall that I will look forward to seeing on any screen.
 |
| Jon Snow = win! |
I should be finishing up A Feast For Crows just in time for the release of A Dance With Dragons which comes out in June. Hopefully, I won't have to wait 6 years like some people for the next book, as I hope George R.R. Martin has a Stephen King like crises of mortality Dark Tower moment and churn out the two remaining chapters sooner rather than later.
 |
| Don't die on me, bro! |
As the show concludes book 1, I will go over some important questions that the viewers should be asking themsleves.
In the future
After my upcoming one-year anniversary with my lovely wife, I am hoping to catch up on some more writing. Look forward to a Bridesmaids Vs. Hangover piece, an X-Men review, and some coverage and contemplation on what is to be revealed at the videogame expo, E3. Right now, I am going to go devour another 500 pages of A Feast for Crows and wait on bated breath for it's follow up.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Taming a Direwolf!
Augustus "Gus" Miller-Hamilton Shcnauzer is my fiercest friend. I reward him with what I call the "sleeping claw."
I was a little annoyed with HBO's Game of Thrones this week, as it was the first huge break with cannon. There were some revelations given and plots revealed in the T.V. show that I haven't even encountered in the novels yet, and I am 1300 pages into the series. I just wasn't prepared for the astronomical leap the story took, but I understand the small-screen can't always have the subtlety that books can convey.
Knowing what I know about how the story is supposed to play out, I am hoping that they can at least do the big twists and turns some justice. My personal favorite stories so far in the books are the ones about Jon Snow and his direwolf "Ghost," as well as political maneuverings of the "Imp."
Monday, May 9, 2011
PlayStation Network Up By May 31st - Nerds Weep!
 |
| Now the universal symbol for "implosion" |
As I have talked about previously, the sundering of the PlayStation Network by hackers seemed to be debacle that would take only weeks to solve. Any official information detailing the time frame for the online restoration that has come down the pipline on the company's blog has been frustratingly brief and cryptic; each day of silence has only angered loyal customers more.
In an effort to throw the masses a bone, Sony talked about May 4th as the targeted day for restoration. Clearly, that day has come and gone with nary and explanation - until today.
Shigenori Yoshida, a spokesperson for Sony in Japan, told Bloomberg today that the company plans to have the PlayStation Network and Qriocity services fully restarted by May 31st.
May frickin' 31st?!?
When tested in the "B.S." meter, this too could be a loose timeframe, though the company indicates that it actually is "very conservative." They maintain that May 31st is the date at which all phases of the network, which includes the online gaming, Qriocity, and the Playstation Store services, will be fully up and running. Sony assures that the gaming component of the network will be the first to be phased back in.
Honestly, it's almost impossible to pin down Sony at this point. Their mantra during this fiasco has been to basically go Helen Keller with their Public Relations. In any case, the PlayStation's future just might be filled with Sony executives that turn a deaf ear to their customers until they find themselves wandering blind and dumb amongst the wreckage of their brand.
That's not "water" Helen, that's failure.
 |
| Helen, pictured with her dog, "Durrrglihimmmm" |
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Hackers PwN the PlayStation Network
Apparently there really are Neo's out there ... and they have fucking brass balls.
Late Wednesday, in a stroke which is probably best described as a mass evisceration of the PlayStation's online component (that free network that all of the PS3's games with online components run off of), Sony was literally brought to its knees.
Apparently, Sony didn't get the memo from the now legendary hacker organization, Anonymous, that was slid under their door the day before:
The story: Sony targeted for legal action a couple of members of the Anonymous organization, GeoHot and Graf_Chokolo, for not only being the first to "jailbreak" the PS3, but then also to spread the technical know-how across the Internet for others to do the same.
Most people have heard "jailbreaking" in conjunction with the iPhone as the method by which users gain access to the entire Unix file system. Basically, a jailbroken iPhone or PS3 would allow the user to modify and customize the coding anyway they saw fit, including but not limited to the installation of nifty but "illegal" programs.
Want a dynamic and animated background on the iPhone like Android has? Well, you can if you jailbreak - but it comes with a potentially big downside for some people. If you are one of those clumsy folk who drop their phones in toilets while they are drunk-dialing, you might want to know that jailbreaking voids the iPhone's warranty, and apparently not even a system restore on the phone can undo the markers that the system has be broken.
Back to the original story: Sony went through the legal action against the hackers, and no sooner had the ink cleared on the lawsuit then the PlayStation Network was ripped to shreds by Anonymous.
Being that I suddenly had a lot more free time to explore what the hell was going on with my console, I found the Internet ablaze with rumors about the cause for the crash. Sony was being extra cryptic with their updates, with the first one only saying that the network was down "for maintenance" and it might take 2 or 3 days to restore.
Since Portal 2 and Mortal Kombat were both released this week with heavy online components, people naturally questioned whether "maintenance" was the worst business move in Sony history, or something that took the company completely by surprise.
Thus the dots started to be connected, and eventually as the "2-3" day window passed, Sony had to acknowledge that it was an "outside attack," on their system that still has them scrambling. Anonymous originally released a statement simultaneously to the PSN crash that they were not responsible. Since then, warning signs and the discovery of threatening documents and videos toward Sony have emerged that indicate that yes, it was Anonymous, or at the very least a faction of hackers within the group that went rogue.
Yep, this shit just got more exciting than DieHard4: Hack the World .
While they are in no way a Neo-like "Digital Jesus" organization, Anonymous has assumed the "Guy Fawkes" mask and mantra by delivering chaos to the "corrupt" through their "hacktivist" ways. They drink the Tron-koolaid of free information, and attack those that wish to suppress or skew information to mislead others. They initially got national recognition for their attacks on Tom Cruise, but really dabble in just about everything; hell, 4Chan - the most popular imageboard on the webz - is directly linked to be founded or run by Anonymous.
Yes it has sucked not being able to enjoy some games, but it's actually kind of reassuring that there are people out there that can defend the little guys.
One request: please don't hack my Angry Birds brah.
 |
| Sweet, I always wanted a sequel. Don't let Natlie Portman shave her head, plz. |
Late Wednesday, in a stroke which is probably best described as a mass evisceration of the PlayStation's online component (that free network that all of the PS3's games with online components run off of), Sony was literally brought to its knees.
Apparently, Sony didn't get the memo from the now legendary hacker organization, Anonymous, that was slid under their door the day before:
 | |
| Badass, but can you just turn on Black Ops? |
The story: Sony targeted for legal action a couple of members of the Anonymous organization, GeoHot and Graf_Chokolo, for not only being the first to "jailbreak" the PS3, but then also to spread the technical know-how across the Internet for others to do the same.
What is Jailbreaking?
Most people have heard "jailbreaking" in conjunction with the iPhone as the method by which users gain access to the entire Unix file system. Basically, a jailbroken iPhone or PS3 would allow the user to modify and customize the coding anyway they saw fit, including but not limited to the installation of nifty but "illegal" programs.
 |
| iPwn |
Want a dynamic and animated background on the iPhone like Android has? Well, you can if you jailbreak - but it comes with a potentially big downside for some people. If you are one of those clumsy folk who drop their phones in toilets while they are drunk-dialing, you might want to know that jailbreaking voids the iPhone's warranty, and apparently not even a system restore on the phone can undo the markers that the system has be broken.
Back to the original story: Sony went through the legal action against the hackers, and no sooner had the ink cleared on the lawsuit then the PlayStation Network was ripped to shreds by Anonymous.
Being that I suddenly had a lot more free time to explore what the hell was going on with my console, I found the Internet ablaze with rumors about the cause for the crash. Sony was being extra cryptic with their updates, with the first one only saying that the network was down "for maintenance" and it might take 2 or 3 days to restore.
Since Portal 2 and Mortal Kombat were both released this week with heavy online components, people naturally questioned whether "maintenance" was the worst business move in Sony history, or something that took the company completely by surprise.
Thus the dots started to be connected, and eventually as the "2-3" day window passed, Sony had to acknowledge that it was an "outside attack," on their system that still has them scrambling. Anonymous originally released a statement simultaneously to the PSN crash that they were not responsible. Since then, warning signs and the discovery of threatening documents and videos toward Sony have emerged that indicate that yes, it was Anonymous, or at the very least a faction of hackers within the group that went rogue.
Yep, this shit just got more exciting than DieHard4: Hack the World .
Who are "Anonymous"
While they are in no way a Neo-like "Digital Jesus" organization, Anonymous has assumed the "Guy Fawkes" mask and mantra by delivering chaos to the "corrupt" through their "hacktivist" ways. They drink the Tron-koolaid of free information, and attack those that wish to suppress or skew information to mislead others. They initially got national recognition for their attacks on Tom Cruise, but really dabble in just about everything; hell, 4Chan - the most popular imageboard on the webz - is directly linked to be founded or run by Anonymous.
Yes it has sucked not being able to enjoy some games, but it's actually kind of reassuring that there are people out there that can defend the little guys.
One request: please don't hack my Angry Birds brah.
 |
| Zerg rush so far up Sony's ass... |
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Skydiving
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Is "True Blood" filming behind my condo?
I feel as if my inquisitive nature may get me killed...
There is an abandoned lot nearby to my condo that I like to take my dog and throw rocks and sticks until I wear his furry butt out. This lot is vast and open, with some nice eye-candy:
Pretty cool, right? Very few know about it, so my dog and I get it to ourselves almost anytime that we want. Unfortunately, there has been some creepiness as of late.
In order to get to this "park," we have to cross in between the property lines of these two condo units along a trail that flanks a small stream. Recently, more and more weird shit has started to appear along this trail.
For those who dare enter, there is now an ominous arrow that points you down the path. What lies ahead?
Well, the only way to the empty lot is through the damn trail. A bit farther down I noticed something strung up on the fence:
There in the clearing, I found a fire pit surrounded by chairs facing what seemed to be a modified outdoor fireplace. I slowly walked over, while my dog went about urinating on the child's green stepping stool.
I inched closer to the red vial. There was a stopper in the shape of a green apple, and inside there sloshed a syrupy liquid. My pulse quickened - my "get to the choppa'"instinct taking hold. As I turned to step away quickly, my foot landed on something hard that almost turned my ankle:
Realizing what it was, I stifled a manly yelp and kicked the bone; unfortunately, my dog thought this part of a game, and it took me another 5 minutes to pry it out of his mouth. He clearly wasn't happy to be free of the bone, and expressed his displeasure by defecating near the fire pit. We fled the little clearing of horrors, not wanting to encounter the beast(s) capable of such madness.
As soon as I reached home, I ironically uncorked a bottle of red to ease my nerves. Turning over what I had seen, while using my anthropological training, I could only come up with a few conclusions:
Thinking back, there was something else I had found that points to it being #2:
Do vampires shit in the woods?
There is an abandoned lot nearby to my condo that I like to take my dog and throw rocks and sticks until I wear his furry butt out. This lot is vast and open, with some nice eye-candy:
 |
| Come on, honey! Let's go have a picnic and watch the bark fall off the the dead tree! |
Pretty cool, right? Very few know about it, so my dog and I get it to ourselves almost anytime that we want. Unfortunately, there has been some creepiness as of late.
In order to get to this "park," we have to cross in between the property lines of these two condo units along a trail that flanks a small stream. Recently, more and more weird shit has started to appear along this trail.
For those who dare enter, there is now an ominous arrow that points you down the path. What lies ahead?
 | |
| That wasn't there yesterday... |
Well, the only way to the empty lot is through the damn trail. A bit farther down I noticed something strung up on the fence:
 |
| Is that "Purple Drank?" |
Alright, that's some Blair Witch shit. Clearly it is some talisman or idol used to keep evil spirits or squirrels at bay. Unnerved, I pressed on into the clearing:
 |
| So, does the sacrificial toddler use the stool to jump into the bad mens' fire? |
There in the clearing, I found a fire pit surrounded by chairs facing what seemed to be a modified outdoor fireplace. I slowly walked over, while my dog went about urinating on the child's green stepping stool.
 |
| Ah hell, a vile of blood... |
I inched closer to the red vial. There was a stopper in the shape of a green apple, and inside there sloshed a syrupy liquid. My pulse quickened - my "get to the choppa'"instinct taking hold. As I turned to step away quickly, my foot landed on something hard that almost turned my ankle:
 | ||
| Time to GTFO? Soilent Green is people! |
Realizing what it was, I stifled a manly yelp and kicked the bone; unfortunately, my dog thought this part of a game, and it took me another 5 minutes to pry it out of his mouth. He clearly wasn't happy to be free of the bone, and expressed his displeasure by defecating near the fire pit. We fled the little clearing of horrors, not wanting to encounter the beast(s) capable of such madness.
As soon as I reached home, I ironically uncorked a bottle of red to ease my nerves. Turning over what I had seen, while using my anthropological training, I could only come up with a few conclusions:
- My neighbors are vampires.
- Hobos have begun to form into tribes, organizing new and complex religious and political systems that employ the use of psychedelics and human blood in their cannibalistic rituals .
Thinking back, there was something else I had found that points to it being #2:
 |
| Even monsters need their privacy. |
Do vampires shit in the woods?
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Resolving 2010
2010 was personally the best year I think I have ever had. A wedding, a honeymoon, family, friends - everything seemingly fell into place as it should. It's probably a bit egotistical to think that there was this sense of destiny and purpose to my 2010, but in the end, everything just seemed too right.
*cough* screw you Texas football teams *cough*
Seriously, 2010 was so good that my conscious outlook on life has invariably shifted to be more future-oriented, rather than this perpetual dawdling in the present; simply, I want more years like this.
We are all guilty of falling into the routine of the day to day. It's weird, but reaching the pinnacle of happiness has etched in my brain that need to always maintain that feeling - that way of life. For me, it was about finally thinking seriously about resolving what I wanted with what I needed.
It was about the goal. My goal last year was to marry my partner for life. Since then, it's been this spider-webbing of possibilities in mind about what my potential could be. I want to be a better husband. I want to be a better friend. I want to one day be the best brother/son/dad/uncle ever. I want more years like 2010.
We are taught by society that in our college years, it's all about carpe diem, to enjoy the day while it lasts. It's like I have been in this protracted tug of war between that mentality and figuring out what comes next. Now I want to know what comes next.
I shifted my perspective.
Take the concept of Captain "Save-a-ho" that was introduced the other night by my wife: it's a pretty loose social work description of that guy that gets stuck in the rut of dating the same ol' "fixer-uppers." Cpt. SaHs always seems to attract, or be attracted to, those women with unresolved emotional baggage or neediness complexes (from trauma or abuse) that invariably will blow up the relationship anyway because in reality, it is impossible for Cpt. SaHs to save them. I have friends and family that are Captains, and they are the nicest guys in the world - and you really just want them to learn from their mistakes, because they start to wear that cape like a curse.
I want to tell those guys that there are no knights in shining armor anymore. There are no magic moments, epiphanies, or celestial beings that will come along and guide you to where we need to be. There is no need to stay in those ruts, to still wear that "Save-a-ho" cape. "Save-a-bro" and save yourself.
2010 felt like destiny because I made it my destiny. Last year taught me that there is not only joy in the present, but ultimate satisfaction in reaching the present having achieved a lifelong goal.
Now, I have about 1000 lifelong goals parading through my consciousness, vying for my attention.
Nice to meet you 2011, I have been looking forward to it.
*cough* screw you Texas football teams *cough*
Seriously, 2010 was so good that my conscious outlook on life has invariably shifted to be more future-oriented, rather than this perpetual dawdling in the present; simply, I want more years like this.
We are all guilty of falling into the routine of the day to day. It's weird, but reaching the pinnacle of happiness has etched in my brain that need to always maintain that feeling - that way of life. For me, it was about finally thinking seriously about resolving what I wanted with what I needed.
It was about the goal. My goal last year was to marry my partner for life. Since then, it's been this spider-webbing of possibilities in mind about what my potential could be. I want to be a better husband. I want to be a better friend. I want to one day be the best brother/son/dad/uncle ever. I want more years like 2010.
We are taught by society that in our college years, it's all about carpe diem, to enjoy the day while it lasts. It's like I have been in this protracted tug of war between that mentality and figuring out what comes next. Now I want to know what comes next.
I shifted my perspective.
Take the concept of Captain "Save-a-ho" that was introduced the other night by my wife: it's a pretty loose social work description of that guy that gets stuck in the rut of dating the same ol' "fixer-uppers." Cpt. SaHs always seems to attract, or be attracted to, those women with unresolved emotional baggage or neediness complexes (from trauma or abuse) that invariably will blow up the relationship anyway because in reality, it is impossible for Cpt. SaHs to save them. I have friends and family that are Captains, and they are the nicest guys in the world - and you really just want them to learn from their mistakes, because they start to wear that cape like a curse.
I want to tell those guys that there are no knights in shining armor anymore. There are no magic moments, epiphanies, or celestial beings that will come along and guide you to where we need to be. There is no need to stay in those ruts, to still wear that "Save-a-ho" cape. "Save-a-bro" and save yourself.
2010 felt like destiny because I made it my destiny. Last year taught me that there is not only joy in the present, but ultimate satisfaction in reaching the present having achieved a lifelong goal.
Now, I have about 1000 lifelong goals parading through my consciousness, vying for my attention.
Nice to meet you 2011, I have been looking forward to it.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Tree of Life trailer!
Terrance Malick is already gifted at capturing the visual essence of the abstract and emotional when it comes to the nature of humanity, so consider this probably his finest work with a lot of Eternal Sunshine mixed in:
Monday, August 30, 2010
Misanthrope
A confluence of events has temporarily sapped my goodwill toward mankind. The "to do" list stacks up, with each added element adding its own form of chaos and stress. As it stands, Sam and I have to:
- Finish the thank you notes for the wedding (due to varying degrees of automated printing success)
- Choose the pictures for our wedding album.
- Get both cars inspected
- Get new tires for Sam's car
- Find a new place so that we can move out of the Camden by Oct 6th.
- Find a new career path.
- Research and complete applications for teachers college.
- Find time to tailgate.
- Visit Sam's Bubi in Toronto.
- *cough*fantasyfootball*cough*
Monday, August 16, 2010
Bubble Wizard
Going through my father's archives of old photos, I happened across some pics that rocked me to my very core. I had always thought myself as, well...special growing up.
Listen, I am not talking about the shining here. As a barely cognizant boy of 3, and in between the moments where I was fighting the primal urges to poop my butt, I was apparently able to tap into a force that was altogether magical:
I was a Bubble Wizard.
I have always had an affinity for lore based upon the plight of the powerful that are deemed weird or even deviants by society. Most super hero stories, wizarding tales, or even ghostbusting yarns have always been my shtick. What I hadn't realized until this day is that my subconscious attraction to these characters and stories are indicative of a deep seeded yearning for a time where I too was once powerful and different.
It started one summer day, when I was playing around with a stick that I had fashioned into a sword. What I didn't know was that this sword became not only catalyst, but a guiding wand to bring forth my latent abilities. Time stood still, and I created a single amorphous bubble with a wave of the wand. It scared the shit out of me.
My mother had to come into the yard with the hose to push the remnants of the diaper I destroyed over by the trashcan. Freshly changed, my child-prodigy mind worked fast to get down the forms and stances necessary to create more beautiful and powerful bubbles. With a flick of the wrist, I called forth what I immediately dubbed the "Tom and Jerry" spell-form: 2 bubbles, one big chasing a small one:
Having fully grasped the intricacies of Bubble-magic, I was ready to attempt my masterpiece. I was familiar with the the Disney film Fantasia, but I was always miffed that Mickey never dared to dream BIG enough. Any schmuck with a wand could animate a bunch of broomsticks, but it would take a real wizard to create a pantheon of bubbles to fill his yard. Completely lost in my art, I worked out a powerful stance to suit my ambition. The rest, as they say, was magic:
Winded, I took my usual PBJ lunch and retired to my napping room. I awoke to my parents arguing, and eventually my mother crying some nonsense about the "government will take him away from us."
I was taken to the doctor to get a "mole removed" from the top of my head, and after that it seems I lost the ability (but strangely, gained a hunger for Play-Doh). Not many can claim that they once wielded powers thought to be only controlled by deities like Poseidon or Neptune; I do give to credit my parents for the hard choice of giving me a normal life, rather than a life of being shunned and feared because I was different.
Mark my words though, Bubble Wizard WILL return; the world will taste his sudsy wrath.
Listen, I am not talking about the shining here. As a barely cognizant boy of 3, and in between the moments where I was fighting the primal urges to poop my butt, I was apparently able to tap into a force that was altogether magical:
I was a Bubble Wizard.
I have always had an affinity for lore based upon the plight of the powerful that are deemed weird or even deviants by society. Most super hero stories, wizarding tales, or even ghostbusting yarns have always been my shtick. What I hadn't realized until this day is that my subconscious attraction to these characters and stories are indicative of a deep seeded yearning for a time where I too was once powerful and different.
It started one summer day, when I was playing around with a stick that I had fashioned into a sword. What I didn't know was that this sword became not only catalyst, but a guiding wand to bring forth my latent abilities. Time stood still, and I created a single amorphous bubble with a wave of the wand. It scared the shit out of me.
My mother had to come into the yard with the hose to push the remnants of the diaper I destroyed over by the trashcan. Freshly changed, my child-prodigy mind worked fast to get down the forms and stances necessary to create more beautiful and powerful bubbles. With a flick of the wrist, I called forth what I immediately dubbed the "Tom and Jerry" spell-form: 2 bubbles, one big chasing a small one:
Having fully grasped the intricacies of Bubble-magic, I was ready to attempt my masterpiece. I was familiar with the the Disney film Fantasia, but I was always miffed that Mickey never dared to dream BIG enough. Any schmuck with a wand could animate a bunch of broomsticks, but it would take a real wizard to create a pantheon of bubbles to fill his yard. Completely lost in my art, I worked out a powerful stance to suit my ambition. The rest, as they say, was magic:
Winded, I took my usual PBJ lunch and retired to my napping room. I awoke to my parents arguing, and eventually my mother crying some nonsense about the "government will take him away from us."
I was taken to the doctor to get a "mole removed" from the top of my head, and after that it seems I lost the ability (but strangely, gained a hunger for Play-Doh). Not many can claim that they once wielded powers thought to be only controlled by deities like Poseidon or Neptune; I do give to credit my parents for the hard choice of giving me a normal life, rather than a life of being shunned and feared because I was different.
Mark my words though, Bubble Wizard WILL return; the world will taste his sudsy wrath.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Death Knell of Summer
Don't let the looks deceive you. His idol is who he also is a dead-ringer for: Andy Milonakis; really, that should tell you all you need to know. If I may elaborate though:
He was the bane of everyone's Medieval Battles this last week, from ironically making fun of other players, to bouts of turrets-like cursing, to turning on the water-works when he was losing.
Even when he wasn't in the class, he apparently had no trouble making threats on the S.A.A. Summer Staff's jobs: "Don't be surprised if the school gets a call from my mom and you get fired," he boldly told one councilor after he was placed on the "wrong" dodgeball team in gym. His mom, incidentally, is the head of the Special Ed programs in the NSAISD, yet her child has no qualms about stating that he attends a "magnet school for the gifted."
Yeah, something does not compute. I am pretty sure his mom told him a story growing up about why he mercurially gets the mental/rage shakes. I bet the story was in the vein of "Lassie went to go live on a farm," but went more like, "Dear, no one understands you because your special."
So instead of giving the kid a heads up that he is in some way imbalanced, he interpreted mommy's story as a license to douche it up because he is "gifted." Also, big high-five to the rest of you parents who take your kids off their meds "for the summer;" you might as well pull the pin on a hand grenade of emotion for these kids, due to their bodies trying to cope with the lack of stabilizers and the mounting anxiety of being around humans other than their parents. Thanks a million!
After all that, he boldly claimed that one day we would pay HIM to help us. We quickly called the registrar and let the ban-hammer fly (they were eager to oblige). Sorry, Andy, my urge to kill rises when I see your face.
In brighter news, Medieval Battles has a youtube page now with some uploaded videos from our last session of the summer (share them!). Hopefully it gives some people the scope of the game, as well as how much these kids get into it. There is also the Facebook group page that I encourage people to join and share. Operation "market my balls of" is underway.
Teaching the morning sections had mostly positives, with the parents delighted and enthusiastic that their children would set alarms for themselves to get there early (or that they were even motivated at all in the summer); one kid even convinced his mother to get him their at 7:45AM (the class starts at 9AM), so that he could pick out his army early. Even though the mother was willing to do it because of her child's brimming enthusiasm, she was pretty relieved when she found out that there was no way in hell I would get there before 8:30 to set up. The negative for me: waking up at 7:45 after playing with my little brother till 2AM the night before.
It was an abbreviated Medieval Battles for me this year, what with the nuptials and all, and I am always sad to see the class go. Throughout my life, the last MB of the season has always seemed to represent the death knell of summer and the approach of real school. If I can somehow turn this class into a year-long job, I could theoretically extend summer and master time itself.
Or I would just have an awesome job.
He was the bane of everyone's Medieval Battles this last week, from ironically making fun of other players, to bouts of turrets-like cursing, to turning on the water-works when he was losing.
Even when he wasn't in the class, he apparently had no trouble making threats on the S.A.A. Summer Staff's jobs: "Don't be surprised if the school gets a call from my mom and you get fired," he boldly told one councilor after he was placed on the "wrong" dodgeball team in gym. His mom, incidentally, is the head of the Special Ed programs in the NSAISD, yet her child has no qualms about stating that he attends a "magnet school for the gifted."
Yeah, something does not compute. I am pretty sure his mom told him a story growing up about why he mercurially gets the mental/rage shakes. I bet the story was in the vein of "Lassie went to go live on a farm," but went more like, "Dear, no one understands you because your special."
So instead of giving the kid a heads up that he is in some way imbalanced, he interpreted mommy's story as a license to douche it up because he is "gifted." Also, big high-five to the rest of you parents who take your kids off their meds "for the summer;" you might as well pull the pin on a hand grenade of emotion for these kids, due to their bodies trying to cope with the lack of stabilizers and the mounting anxiety of being around humans other than their parents. Thanks a million!
After all that, he boldly claimed that one day we would pay HIM to help us. We quickly called the registrar and let the ban-hammer fly (they were eager to oblige). Sorry, Andy, my urge to kill rises when I see your face.
In brighter news, Medieval Battles has a youtube page now with some uploaded videos from our last session of the summer (share them!). Hopefully it gives some people the scope of the game, as well as how much these kids get into it. There is also the Facebook group page that I encourage people to join and share. Operation "market my balls of" is underway.
Teaching the morning sections had mostly positives, with the parents delighted and enthusiastic that their children would set alarms for themselves to get there early (or that they were even motivated at all in the summer); one kid even convinced his mother to get him their at 7:45AM (the class starts at 9AM), so that he could pick out his army early. Even though the mother was willing to do it because of her child's brimming enthusiasm, she was pretty relieved when she found out that there was no way in hell I would get there before 8:30 to set up. The negative for me: waking up at 7:45 after playing with my little brother till 2AM the night before.
It was an abbreviated Medieval Battles for me this year, what with the nuptials and all, and I am always sad to see the class go. Throughout my life, the last MB of the season has always seemed to represent the death knell of summer and the approach of real school. If I can somehow turn this class into a year-long job, I could theoretically extend summer and master time itself.
Or I would just have an awesome job.
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