Saturday, January 28, 2006
I told you I would write a blog for you, so here it is, punk. Hell yes, I even went into google pictures and found this pic of you online, you handsome bastid.
So I was in this meeting yesterday and you called. I had to make an excuse an meander out of there and talk to you. You told me that the blog busted out on you with the migraine status. So I changed the background as requested. I also made comments available for you. So you can now post random stuff as I have done for you.
No, I have not watched the T-REX scene in King Kong. Mebbe tonight. I know I always say mebbe tonight. And I make a point of saying "mebbe" the way I spell it here in homage to Marvel Two in One, specifically the Deathlok issue.
Dad was just here, and I was telling him how I have been up in here. He was curious. I mentioned that you were up in here too. he asked something about if I would feel weird or something if he checked it out. I said no. I actually think he should, since we reference that cat all the time in this piece.
Speaking of Dad, has he ever told you about his thing for Nabakov? You ever read any of his stuff? I know that Lolita is dismissed as trash, but I am about to take Nabakov completely out as a result of a 2 page New Yorker article that was flowed to me by a person who counts. Dad broke him down to me at a soccer game about 2 years ago and I skull-noted it. I have had a book at my desk at work for the past year. Every 3 months or so, Debbie the librarian gives me a call (extension 6663 you Demmons) and askes if I want to renew that trash. It is time to dive headlong into that thing.
Hope the NY weather is working for you. Hope the cantankerous crew is staying outta your bidniss.
The Constant Gardener was supposed to be here today...no dice.
We got Neverending Story for the babies, but the disc came broken. So I talked them all into watching EPISODE 5 one more time. That movie is so damn dope.
"APOLOGY ACCEPTED CAPTAIN NEEDA."
Yzzy has sold 196 boxes of GS cookies.
Ivan is over at Mom and Dad's watching Sharkboy and Lava Girl.
That's about it. Enjoy the layout.
I have had this sort of standoffish relationship with this show TILL NOW.
Here are a few facts for you:
We don't get cable. We barely get FOX, and that only happens when there is ome sort of world emergency.
We don't MISS cable. We don't really miss TV for that matter. The TV is for one thing and one thing only: THE PS2. The PS2...man, everyone should have one. You got your DVD player and your games. I rarely have to change a channel. I just need to make sure that we are on VIDEO 2 and it is ON, I say.
So, with all of the DVD rentals through Netflix, I am pushing up on TV that people have talked to me about in the past. Diane and I took Sex in the City DOWN last year. Finished that trash. Then we were looking for something new. So I pushed in the direction of Jack Bauer/Keifer Sutherland and the first season of 24. Back when that first season was going down, my sophomores would come into class wide-eyed and ask me if I had seen the stuff. I blew them off then. Now, as I go through the mental rolodex, I am paying attention to such conversations of old. For a quick mini-review, I will tell you that the first season of 24 is DOPE until the last 2 episodes. Then there is an improbable plot twist that pisses you off (or not, if you tend to accept the television standards of how a plot can be twisted). With that plot twist, 24 got parked with the sickness. I loved the realtime aspect of it all, but NVM.
Another television show that I sucked the life out of was THE OFFICE. THE OFFICE was good. Brits rule the wasteland when it comes to that kind of stuff. I laughed myself sick. I had to get out and download the Christmas Special because I just had to see how they were going to end Ricky Gervais' character. THE OFFICE had class. I still need to watch the stateside episodes. Perhaps they will be on DVD soon?
The thrust of this blog is THE SHIELD though. I have been hearing good stuff about it for years, and I finally knuckled under and pulled the first season across. Let me tell you, I am hooked on this TRASH. I say that it is trash, because it is. It is complete trash in all of its exploitative glory. There is nudity and profanity and blood and guts and compromised morals. Did I say compromised morals? The season opener has Mike Chiklis' Vic Mackey blow another cop away in order to preserve his best interests. This show is a continual drive in the direction of TRAINING DAY. Chiklis is a man with morals, but you have to watch MANY episodes to see where he stands. He puts drugs into the hands of his informants, to keep them informing. He beats on people to get his information. He bends the rules. He breaks the law. He lives by this code that my loud friend Alex has mentioned before, and this code is "GET IT DONE, GODAMMIT."
But there is something deeper in the Shield itself that is warring with my dome. The other night, I watched this episode that I thought was well done. I was also impressed with how tame it was, yet I felt that it had held my attention. So I mentioned to Diane afterward (who has maintained that its over the top violence is a strong deterrant)that I felt that the episode had been tame. She countered with the fact that there were three graphically dead bodies and that there was more innuendo and violence in there than she was used to. And then I realized something. I am totally desensitized.
I mean completely.
I mean, I watched Natural Born Killers for the 10+ time a few weeks back and I got nothing out of it. I don't wince anymore. Watching fat George Clooney get his fingernails yanked in Syrianna didn't do it for me. I chuckled my way through SAW2 (specifically when OBI got cooked and when homeboy carved the number off of his OWN neck). Munich hit me hard, but the violence didn't really taint me. I just don't know. When I step to something like the Shield, I am not going to be phased by sub-HBO violence. That being said, I have to put it out there that this might very well be a masculine endeavor. If you like your violence served up with a little splatter, this might be it. Though in refelction, I don't think it is any worse than Law and Order SVU conceptually. (I miss that show BTW. I miss waiting for friday nights to watch Mariska get down).
So the bottom line is that the Shield is DOPE. There is a plotline running underneath that is ripe for development. Vic has his wife and a kid with autism. Vic has his "hooker with the heart of gold" informant whom he lovingly takes care of. Well, he had to punch her out a few episodes ago in order to establish her alibi. Vic also hooked her up with some crack that she smoked in the police office, for a little humor. Vic also has Danny, an on-again off-again flame in his life who is the attractive uniformed cop who has her own set of subplots. Then there is the captain who wants to see Mackey's strike team taken down in order to secure his own spot on the city council. Then there is the Lieutenant who covers the strike team's ass when stuff goes south. All of this fits together in this pastiche of attempting to do the right thing and looking for the lesser of two evils at all times. It is never "good". Every situation is "bad" and the choices are made to determine how much worse it will get. No happy endings. It is rather bleak, when you get into it...but let me tell you, Chiklis' badass detective resonates. You see him throwing people, abusing people and beating the hell out of everyone in his life right down to his own partners on the strike team. But underneath all of this bluster is a tarnished heart. It is there, the heart, and Chiklis carries it to the front when the time is right. It is downright amazing. Homeboy has the scowl, and he turns and faces the camera with violence in his eye regularly. But at times, there is the wince. At times you see the humanity of it all get to him, and he reacts accordingly. Vic Mackey is a brute. There is no question about it. But he has his limitations. I would say that a limitation that he has established so far is his absolute offense with violence against children. He can't take it. He also struggles with violence against women, but he tolerates a little more on this level. His solutions to his problems are brutal. They are fleshy. They aren't normal. But they are understandable. Like what Chris Rock said about OJ killing his wife. The whole line of "I thnk it is wrong, but I understand." Chiklis sure is NOT Russell Crowe in LA CONFIDENTIAL. But I don't think it is Chiklis' fault. This is a writer error. Chiklis is on a road to some sort of redemption, but he has to throw a lot of people out of his way to get there. He seems to be onto something though. The show is perpetuated, because every time Vic gets near to the redemtion he is looking for, a new complication arises.
As far as a bird's eye view into the human condition? This show locks it down. It needs polishing, but then again, I am still in the first season, and I have a lot to look forward to. Glenn Close will show up. Forrest Whitaker is showing up. This is the way to watch tv, trust me.
Friday, January 27, 2006
I get a lot of junk mail. Most of it has to do with me trying to get my penis to be longer or something. I get a lot of stuff from people trying to get me to buy my meds online. I get a lot of stuff for me and my swinging single life too. Usually, I delete the stuff point blank. But this week there was a newer twist. I have seen these before, in one form or another; but this time, I had like 15 of them. Initially the idea hit me to blog on this first one...but they kept on coming. MAS Y MAS. So here, Let us dissect a few...que no?
It is all official and stuff. If you haven't seen something like this before, then they wanted YOU and not me:
From Peter Wood.
Crockford Lane Basingstoke
Hants RG24 8WB. London UK.
TEL: 00 44 704 012 9340. + 44 704 010 9657.
My name is Peter Wood. I am a citizen of london United Kingdom. I am the personal account officer to Late Mr Neal Walker who is a citizen of USA but living here in London with his family before his sudden death.
This mail is written to solicit your assistance to be presented as next of kin to my Late Client Neal Walker of 75 Oregon city Oregon, U.S.A.He made a fixed Deposit valued at USD 8.5 Million United States Dollars Only with (Chase Manhattan Bank of London. www.chase.com) Unfortunately he lost his life aboard Egypt Air Flight 990, which crashed into the Atlantic Ocean on October 31, 1999. To see the details of this plane crash, Please click on the (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/502503.stm) He left no clear beneficiary as Next of Kin but all documents relating to the claim of this fund will be processed in your name as soon as we agreed together.
The Governing Body of the Chase Manhattan Bank of London. has contacted me on this matter and I am yet to provide the Next of Kin to lay a claim to the Fund.Under a clear and legitimate agreement with you, I shall seek your consent to be presented as the next of Kin without any risk involved so that my late Client's Fund will not be confiscated by the Government. For the sake of transparency on this matter, you are free to make immediate contact with me for further information related to this matter.
Thank you very much for your anticipated acceptance while i expect your prompt response.
Peter Wood. From London.
I replied with a "YOU ARE FULL OF SH*T" response. He knows, I know. Why is this guy reaching across the ocean to hit my account? Is my address posted on some sort of loser wall over there? Maybe it is on some loser list in Europe. Why? Read Email #2:
I am Prof. David william the deputy governor of
the citi bank of united kingdom here in london .
In my department we discovered an abandoned sum of
Uk#25 million pounds in an account that belonging to
one of our foreign customer Mr.steve wansor from
America .Who died along with his entire family on
Monday,31 July, 2000 in a plane crash in paris.Please
visit this site that is one of the evidence the
directors brought in other to swallow the money at the
end of the day,
Since we got information about his death, we have been
expecting his next of kin to come over and claim his
money because we cannot release it unless somebody
applies for it as next of kin or relation to the
deceased as indicated in our banking laws but
unfortunately we learnt that all his supposed next of
kin or relation died alongside with him at the plane
crash leaving nobody behind for the claim.
It is therefore upon this discovery that I now decided
to make this business proposal to you and release the
money to you as the next of kin or relation to the
deceased for safety and subsequent disbursement since
nobody is coming for it and we don't want this money
to go into the bank treasury as unclaimed bill.
The banking law and guidline here stipulates that if
such money remained unclaimed after fours years, the
money will be transfered into the bank treasury as
I agree that 40% of this money will be for you as a
respect to the provision of a foriegn account and 60%
would be for me Thereafter, I will visit your country
for disbursement according to the percentage indicated
Therefore, to enable the immediate transfer of this
fund to your designated bank account ,you must apply
first to the bank as a relation or next of kin of the
deceased with a text of application that i will send
to you,so i will like you to send to me your private
telephone and fax number for easy and effective
communication and location
wherein the money will be remitted.
Upon receipt of your reply, I will send you an email
the text of the application . I will not fail to bring
to your notice that this transaction is hitch-free and
that you should not entertain any atom of fear as all
required arrangements have been made for the transfer.
You should contact me immediately as soon as you
receive this letter. Trusting to hear from you
immediately.Do reply me in my private E-mail:firstname.lastname@example.org
Prof. David williams.
I sent this guy a "YOU ARE FULL OF SH*T" response too. I mean, were Steve AND Neal were both killed in crashes that will make ME money? The sheer coincidence of it all boggles my tired mind. Part of me knows that sending that profane response is wrong and not really following proper protocol, but please...I just saved them a lot of problems with their Uk#25 million pounds.
And then the deluge really starts. I am not usually one to win, but check out email #3:
The Lottery Department
9 Leapal Road, Guildford,
Surrey, GU1 4JX
London, United Kingdom
This is to inform you that you have been selected for a cash prize of Â£2,600,000.00
(Two Million, Six Hundred Thousand Great British Pounds) International programs
held on the 5th of october 2005 in the London Uk.
The selection process was carried out through random selection in our
computerized email selection system(ess) from a database of over 250,000 email
addresses drawn from all the continents of the world.
Lotto24 is approved by the British Gaming Board and also Licensed by the The
International Association of Gaming Regulators (IAGR). This promotional lottery is
he tenth of its kind and we intend to sensitize the public.
To begin the processing of your prize you are to contact your claims officer
through our accredited Prize Transfer agents as stated below:
Mr. John Wood
9 Leapal Road, Guildford,
Surrey, GU1 4JX
London, United Kingdom
Time to call(10am to 5pm london time)
contact him, please provide him with your secret pin code x7pwyz2005 and your
reference number BWBI:2551256003/23.You are also advised to provide him with
the under listed information as soon as possible:
1.Name in full--------------------------------------------------------------
If you do not contact your claims agent within 7 working days of this
notification,your winnings would be revoked. Winners are advised to keep their
winning details/information from the public to avoid fraudulent claim
(IMPORTANT)pending the transfer/claim by Winner.
Accept my hearty congratulations once again!
Mrs Susan Hart
I hit Mrs. Susan Hart back with another profanity studded one-sentence response. Someone has actually taken the time to type that trash up with the hopes of playing someone like me out. The story is that I contact them and then they hit me up with some sort of "finders/location/whatever fee". I send that and wait from the rest of my life for my Two Million, Six Hundred Thousand Great British Pounds. In that time though, they now know who I am, where I live, my nationality, where I work and so on. WHAT DO THEY REALLY WANT?
Initially, I was just going to blog on those three...but here is another that just showed up as I started:
COMPLIMENTS OF THE NEW YEAR.
MY NAME IS IBRAHIM ABACHA,THE SON OF THE LATE NIGERIAN PRESIDENT, GENERAL SANNI ABACHA,I AM SEEKING FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE IN COLLECTING MY LATE FATHER'S MONEY THAT IS IN A FINANCIAL INSTITUTION IN EUROPE AMMOUNTING TO EIGHT MILLION FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR PURPOSE OF INVESTMENT.
FOR DOING THIS YOU WILL BE REWARDED TO THE AMMOUNT OF ONE MILLION TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS WHICH IS FIFTEEN PERCENT OF THE TOTAL SUM IN QUESTION.
PLEASE I NEED YOU TO CONTACT ME WITH YOUR FULL NAME,PHONE AND FAX.
AWAITING YOUR PROMPT AND STRICT CONFIDENTIAL RESPONSE
Freaking amazing. I just checked my junk mail and found one more. This one really frosts me. It is a frosty one because it preys on the fact that you will access charity dollars. This one may be the most cynical email that I have ever gotten from a stranger (because I get cynical ones from my friends all the time):
From: Mrs. Gloria Cavana
Reply email to my private email:email@example.com
RE: PLEASE ENDEAVOUR TO USE IT FOR THE CHILDREN OF GOD.
ln my quest to locate a responsible friend and partner to bring my dreams to a
reality, hence l took this bold step to contact you through this medium and l
would not like you to take an offence that l am bothering you since you do not
know me neither have we met before.
I am Mrs. Gloria Cavana from Kuwait. I am married to Dr. Harry kata who worked
with Kuwait embassy in Ivory Coast for nine years, before he died in the year
2002.we were both married for eleven years without a child. He died after a
brief illness that lasted for only four days.
Before his death we were both involved in charity services. Since his death I
decided not to re-marry or get a child outside my matrimonial home which is
against my principle. When my late husband was alive he deposited the sum of
$18.6million (eighteen million six hundred thousand u.s.dollars) with a bank
in Europe. Presently, this money is still with the bank in
Europe for safekeeping.
Recently, my doctor told me that I would not last for the next three months
due to my cancer problem.Though what disturbs me most is my stroke sickness.
Having known my condition of health I have decided to donate this fund to
charity, orphanage or an individual that will utilize this money the way I am
going to instruct here in. I want an individual that will use these
fund-to-fund charity, orphanages and widows and to ensure that these set of
people are well maintained. The bible made us to understand that blessed is
the hand that giveth.i took this decision because I don't have any child that
will inherit this money and my husband relatives are well of and I don't want
my husband's hard earned money to be misused by them.
As I do not want a situation whereby this money will be used in an ungodly
manner.Hence the reasons for taking this bold decision. I am not afraid of
death because l have lived a fufiled life.
As it is right now, I don't need any telephone communication in this regard
because of my health and also due to the presence of my husband's relatives
around me always. I don't want them to know about this development.As soon as
I receive your reply I shall give you the contact of the bank in the
Europe. I will also issue you a letter of authority that will prove you as
the original-beneficiary of this said fund. I want you to see to the need of
the less priviledged.My happiness is that I lived a fulfiled life and l dont
have any regrets in life .Please note that any delay in your reply will give
me room in sourcing for another individual as I stated here in.
For now I dont want any calls from you because of the presence of my husband's
relatives who are always around me and I dont want them to know my plans. Do
get intouch with me on my private email address firstname.lastname@example.org for more
details to proceed.
Hoping to hear from you soonest and do notify your interest to help me assist
May the peace and blessing of God be upon you and May god bless you as you
respond to my plea.
Remain blessed .
Mrs. Gloria Cavana
I sent her an email telling her to go to hell. Straight up.
Then there was this one this one showed up a few days ago, but I have letting my junk mail pile up for the past week looking for entertainment. I figured it might be worth posting here, because the title was "I only like sweet mens".
----- Original Message ----- From: "SavitriHNazirah "
To: "SawiniNNeala "
Sent: Friday, January 27, 2006 6:48 AM
Subject: email@example.com add me to messenger
I am eager to meet a nice sweet man. I am 25, female and from Russia. I like canada mens, and
also europe and americas mens. I have pictures if you want to see me. my email is firstname.lastname@example.org
I hope to meet you and be freind. With great hope. Svetlana Staples
I don't have the stomach to email a retort to this one. Some of these things just need to be left alone.
Here is my question: Why am I getting all of these emails asking for SERIOUS cash assistance from other countries? Some of these emails actually took some time to write. I think about that religious one where I told that kind old lady to go to hell. That was like, 4 paragraphs long. Those weren't little freshmen in high school paragraphs either. That stuff was the juice.
Who are these people? Are they actually drumming up any cash? Are these schemes working? How many times do they get responses and their hearts flutter thinking that they have found a sucker, and then they read some profanity from some bored blogger? I wonder.
I also wonder if I haven't just kissed several million off in the most vulgar way. Hey, I have 30 grand in student loans piled up in some space of reality. The loan people call and I let them eat the answering machine, DAILY. Maybe I should get the loan people's email address, forward this trash to them and hope for the best. I could attach my name to it on one level or another, so that when the payoff comes through, 30 grand goes to my student loan problems. Shoot, I'll even throw that Russian chick in for free.
Damn. Things are looking up.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Let me tell you about Ferdinand.
Ferdie is my 1970 VW Westfalia Camper Van.
We have had this beast for 12 years or so. We had an old Mini before that, but the Mini was a rustbucket, and my eldest could kick the back of my seat and I could feel the shock of the impact from his several month old leg all the way through my body.
We needed to move up. The Westfalia was something that I had noticed earlier. Plus, we were in camping country. It seemed the proper vehicular direction to go.
I was attending a small BC University at the time. There was this guy named Larry Dean who was also attending. He had one of those Westfalias that I was so concerned with. His was for sale. Larry Dean had the foulest mouth I have EVER witnessed in my entire life. I have never been able to swear as much or close to as long as Larry could. It was a lesson in patience. Larry would sprinkle profanity over everything to the point that all in his life was corroded. It was a disturbing feat. I have met others who have come close to the amount of verbal vulgarities that Mr. Dean threw around...but I have yet to meet someone like Larry who could physically change the landscape that you were in by ascribing filth to EVERY LAST THING.
The only reason Larry Dean figures into this thing is because I spent a day with him, while I had my guys at International Auto tear into his van to find out if it was worth the purchasing price. During that time, Larry Dean and I went to the arcade. We also went to the local grocery store for some deli sandwiches. I put my name into a jar at the counter and learned a few weeks later that I had won a black forest ham. That was it. International Auto quoted me something like two grand to get Dean's VW road worthy and I had to tell the boy no. There was a flurry of profanity and then he was gone. I saw him a few weeks later. Someone had tipped his van onto its side in the parking lot at the university. There is a story there, but I didn't have the stomach to find out who Larry had pissed off.
Eventually, we got our hands on a '70 Westfalia. The camper. She was a bit rusted. The whole process of moving the Mini out and moving the van in is one of those weird little family stories that should never really grace a blog. Let's just say that it all hinged on a tax return that never surfaced and that there was mercy from the hands of the seller. The grand price was twelve-hundred, Canadian. NOICE.
We took her camping on Gabriola island IMMEDIATELY. We eventually found a postcard from France in her. We also found an axe in there too. There was also a rubber lion. Apparently, someone named Leo had owned her at one time. The oddest of all was that we purchased the thing on Vancouver island, and my wife was asked by a guy here in Salinas California a few years back if the van was from Canada. It turned out that he had owned it several years back, up in Canada. The west coast man...don't mess with it. The whole thing is connected.
We named her Ferdinand after the bull in the Disney cartoon that unless you are DOWN, you probably haven't seen. Ferdinand is a beast who likes to smell the flowers. One day he gets stung by a bee, and the local bullfight promoters see this display of fury and get Ferdie into the bullfighting ring. Ferdinand languidly goes out and smells the daisies rather than tearing the matador a new orifice. Yep, that is Ferdie. Actually, Ferdie is more like the millennium Falcon. She ain't got much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. You know...the lights are dimming, and Han Solo pounds his fist into the wall and she lights up again? And I cant think of how many times I have been hanging Ferdie through traffic and thought of the asteroid field in EMPIRE STRIKES BACK. Hell yes. I can fit Ferdie into anything that is her size. I know how tall she is. I know how broad she is. I can back her into any space. I might produce a little impact, and if that is the case, it is because the thing that I hit didn't show up in my mirrors.
I would be lying if I was to say that I have not driven Ferdie hard EVER SINCE. We took her camping. We took her to Seattle many times. We took her to Vancouver. We took her up to Comox. We took her to Port Alberni. We took her to Powell River. We also took her to Tofino, and to the Canadian Long Beach. Then we moved to Victoria and Ferdie dominated the streets there.
I used to have a pinkie ring that I got from Tom Adam back when I was living in CA. I wore that thing everywhere. It was silver and HARDCORE. So hardcore that I don't really remember what patterns were on it. One New Year's Eve I was out with my friend Ian and some other people, tooling around in Ferdie and I gestured with my hand in such a way that the ring flew off. It flew into one of the heating vents in the front, underneath the windshield. It was FREEZING outside, but I made those guys wait in there while I pulled and prodded and tried to liberate that ring. That was what...over ten years ago. It is still in there. Every now and then, I hear it rattle.
Then came the move back to California. I was coming back to this place to become a teacher. There was a serious adventure at the border and I soon found myself with 48 hours till my job started, and I was bombing across the border, sans family at eight or nine at night. I made the mistake of buying the first pack of Marlboros I could find. Marlboros are a treat to people in Canada, they aren't imported. If you are a smoker and you deke into the states, you had better bring back a pack of Marlboro red for the homies. But colorblind me slipped up and purchased two packs of some new Marlboro Menthols. I smoked a pack down. I came out of Oregon with a splitting headache. Then came the Ferdie problems. I was burning through Mount Shasta mid-morning and things seemed fine. Then I saw the oil light come on. I pulled over. I didn't need to look far to see the trail of hot oil behind me. I had blown a gasket. I remember sitting there shaking my head wondering how I was going to get out of this one. We had maxed our credit cards, and I wasn't doing so well with cold hard cash because the exchange rate on American dollars had crippled my little pile of travel cash. There was something about intercepting a cheque when I got to my parent's place, but the bottom line was that I was too broke to do anything about my situation. I had about twenty dollars on my visa. That was it.
The thing about VWs is that you should always have a spare bottle of motor oil on you. They leak. There isn't a thing you can do about it. The fellers leak. It is part of their genetic code. So I topped up with a few bottles, and moved as fast as I could to the nearest settlement, looking for an automotive store. I stopped every time the oil light came on and re-topped it up. That may have been one of the worst Saturdays of my life. I promised God that if I ever got out of this situation, I would never smoke pot again. Not that I was smoking pot seriously at the time, but I needed to have something to barter with that I hadn't really let go of.
I found a little automotive store and went in. I explained my situation to the good old boys there and they hooked me up with some gasket sealant for $8.99. I spent the other ten on backup oil and Poured the bottle of sealant in and started to drive. Every five miles I added a quart of oil. Then every ten. Soon it was twenty. Then fifty. Then one hundred. By the time I got to Vallejo at about midnight, I was good. My pressure was up. I got to my parent's place and met up with Casson at 3 or so. The next day was a haze. And I started teaching class on the Monday after that. I drove that van for six months on that blown gasket.
Then I had to have Ferdie smogged. I learned that the 1970 vehicles were going to get a pass soon, but I still needed to get around. I took her in for a smog check and watched the guy laugh in my face. He told me that I needed to install a catalyic converter or a cigarette filter or something. He told me I would lose what little power I had. But he was also the one who told me that the laws were changing. So I parked Ferdie for six months and played connect the dots as far as getting to work and tooling around town. Then she cleared the age limit and I was able to get her registered as a US vehicle. I celebrated with the purchase of a new engine.
In order for you to completely understand Ferdie, you have to understand Art of A's Volkswagen in Seaside. I mentioned Ian earlier in this post. Ian was a VW Westfalia guy too. He was also in a band called the Suns at one time. They were heading to Mexico one Christmas eve out of Canada, and they broke down in Seaside. It was a terribly spiritual experience for Ian. It was so spiritual that I can't even begin to do it justice. Whatever the case, they ran into Art, closing his shop down on Christmas eve. They told him that they had beer money and would he hook them up? Art did. I think it was for like thirty bucks or something. CHRISTMAS EVE I SAID. I don't know if it was a complete engine overhaul or what...but Art pulled the saint move. So when I was explaining to Ian about the area I was moving to, he told me that Art was my mechanic. Art has been my mechanic, and art is the FOKKIN MAN.
I am on AAA. I can't count how many times I have had Ferdie towed to Art. Art does it right. He has done two engines and two clutch jobs for me. Art is the kind of mechanic that will drive the car back to your house if you can't make it. Art id the kind of guy that says to call at three and when you call at three, he isn't telling you how much it is going to cost, he is already done with the work. Art is the kind of guy that looks at the problem, does the work and waves you on, telling you that he will get you next time with the bill. Art will take payments. Art is part Volkswagen, I am sure of it. He has the spirit of the old-school Volkswagen in his system. He has given me my share of dirty looks as he has realized how hard I have run Ferdie. But the bottom line is that he is the best man for the job. He knows it inside and out. He gives a good price and there is no monkey business. I am sure I have put two of his kids through college.
So the other day, I am bombing down Highway 1. I was in a good space. A real good space. Things were falling in place for me in my mind and in my personal life. And then, KA-POW. It sounded like a shotgun blast. And suddenly, no power. So I downshifted to third. KA-POW again. No power. I got into the far right lane. There were a series of shotgun blasts, and I glided to a halt right there by the 12th street exit. Long story short? I have no idea what is up. AAA got me my tow job to Art. My mother hooked me up with a ride home. I am driving the vanpool this weekend, so I am straight for a vehicle until Monday. After that? I dunno. But in all of this, I got the coolest email EVER. Here you go:
>From: Calvin Demmon
>To: Peter Demmon
>Date: Fri, 20 Jan 2006 10:01:41 -0800 (PST)
>Cars break down. All the time. If they didn't, you wouldn't see a mechanic at every corner. Don't let it get to you. I say this out of years of experience standing outside of broken-down cars.
And that is what a father is good for at this stage of my life. Someday I will have to recount all of the times that I witnessed him standing on the side of the road. Someday I will have to recount how I used to help pushstart the '63 Volvo with Casson through the streets of Downey. Another story. Another finicky vehicle. My father came through. And you know what? Someday, my kids are going to have their experiences with the cars that they wind out babying.
I was supposed to call Art on Friday at noon, but I got yanked into a series of work related tussles that left me FAR AWAY from that sort of phone usage. I didn't even break for lunch on friday. But for some reason, I just have a hunch that I will be back on the road, with Ferdie before the week is out. That is how it all works.
Thanks for the encouragement, Dad.
Yeah, so today Ysabel was going to her friend's house. Her friend lives in a gated community. This means that you have to dial in to get to them. Then they buzz the gate and you get in.
Yzzy's friend's family name isn't on the dialup list by the gate. Nor did she remember the apartment number. So we were in a quandary. I had the Eyeball in tow too. Yzzy volunteered that she has hopped the fence in the past and opened the gate. She volunteered that she has done this with her mother. Well, if Mom was pulling a stunt like that, then there should be no problem...right? Read on.
So she is on top of the fence. Then this gruff voice shoots out of nowhere,
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET OFFA THAT FENCE!"
Allow me to interject that some of the most hopeless times in my life were when I was a kid being yelled at by an adult who I didn't know. I have always thought it was unfair.
So I stepped into view.
"Hey, she is just trying to get over the fence because she is coming to visit her friend."
"GET OFFA THE FENCE!" He yelled again.
"HEY!" That is no way to talk to my daughter.
"WELL GET HER OFF OF THE FENCE!"
I snapped into parental mode. You can't talk to my daughter like that. You shouldn't talk to any little girl like that.
"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?" I asked him several times.
"You aren't going to do ANYTHING, so shut up and mind your own business." Was my deal closer.
"STFU, I'm calling the police." was his retort.
"Big words, little man." Was mine. I was HOT. You can't start trouble with a little girl, and then transfer your cowardly spite to the father of the little girl and not get your ass HURT. I was ready to serve this old man his ass.
Yz looked at me. She had a logic that still amazes me.
"So I should hop down and open the door?" She asked. She wasn't recognizing the authority of that other guy at all. I was the authority figure on the scene, and she was SO easy going about it all. I had her hop down onto our side. We looked at the list again. I was really trying to figure out how to get ahold of her friend's apartment number. I wanted to get buzzed in so I could walk by this cowardly asshat with my kids and smirk in his fat face.
The gate opened. The man asked me who I was looking for. I told him. He told me to come around. And that was that. I went to the apartment. I dropped Yz off. Eyeball and I came back by the truck. I was cooler and I felt that I should talk to the guy. You know, tell him that I would remember the apartment number in the future or something. He was just a super being a prick. That is what they do. But he was gone. His truck was there, but he was not.
Yzzy's friend's mother listened to our adventure on the way in.
"Do you want me to kick his ass?" She asked.
"I say we double-bank him." Was my response.
So high school.
I took the Eyeball to Starbucks a little later and we discussed the whole thing. He told me that I'd said a bad word. In all of the flurry, I hadn't noticed.
"What was it that I said?" I mouthed around my Americano.
"Shut-up." Was his response.
You know, I have vague memories of my own father having odd altercations with strangers. I don't know what...and I don't know how, but it all seems very familiar to me. He turned out alright though. Read the next blog and you will see what kind of guy he is. He is a badass with a heart. I hope that someday my own kids will think the same thing about me.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
I went to the old stomping grounds today. That stuff means a lot to me. The old house at the top of the hill in Monterey.
I remember Bear's funeral, when they mentioned that he was writing poetry in some Dallas mental institution. He wrote something about how the coast and Monterey in particular made his heart soar. Shortly after, he jumped out of the window. Not the same day of course, but the poem and his demise have always haunted me. My heart soars in Monterey. Let me tell you why.
Bear dropped me off at the top of the hill in Monterey many times. Hellam street. Bear dropped me off in his VW squareback that he had named ROXY. Dropped me in front of my old house.
Every five -10 years or so, I darken the doorstep of the old house and scare the people who live there. I tell them that I used to live there, and could I please have a look around? They have never said no. The last time we (my sister and I) did it, they guy was a little shaky about it. He gave us our space, and he told us it was up to us if we wanted to go into all of the rooms. He didn't want to say no. He was housesitting at the time. He was making some spaghetti sauce on the stove. That experience was so...weird, that I haven't pulled the housevisiting stunt lately...but it is getting close to time again. Looking at it and seeing the ivy scars on the front made me realize how good those times were. But at the time, it was hell on earth. You just never know until it is over.
The bottom line is that my heart finds this wonderful algorythm when I am on that street. There was a vacant lot next door. I buried a pet or two there I think. It was overrun with blackberry bushes, and we would crawl through that stuff and get buckets of the fruit and frappe it silly when we got home. Now the lot hass two houses. You know someone got PAID.
"It is very beautiful, yet slightly wild" or something to that effect - SS
There was a tree there (still there) that I would climb and watch the traffic drive by underneath me.
There was the big blue house that is no longer blue, but when it was, you could see it from the center of the bay if you were on a fishing boat.
Nina and Wendell are both dead, and you can't see their house from the street. But that didn't mean that I was free from the memories today. Nina teaching me algebra with the most messed up english accent I have ever heard, as she chainsmoked. Wendell with his pipe, and that smoker's hack that would wake me up in the morning. I swear I thought he would die every morning. Back when I was teaching, I would tell my class how I would go out in the morning looking for the phlegm that he would cough up. It always looked like cough syrup. In my 15-16 year old mind, I saw the humor in the fact that he had coughed up this syrup.
There was Mrs. Marchenka who lived across the street. Her house is countersunk. Down a steep driveway. She is this older Russian woman who had me do chores for her. I was imitating her accent at the dinner table tonight to the amusement of my kids. We do this thing where we say "best and worst" every night at the table. I told them that my best was going to the old street and checking it out. I broke down Mrs. Marchenka. I used her accent...how she used to call me a "village boy" because of how crazy I acted at times I guess. The kids dug on that stuff.
I saw Mrs. Marchenka today. I didn't have the guts to go up to her. I was shocked that the woman was still alive. She must be pushing 100 easy. She was working. She had a cane and she looks like she has lost some of her weight. What could I have possibly said to her? She probably would have put me to work.
There was a saturday morning after I had spent the night at a friend's house and had watched a Chuck Norris film. In this film, there was a brutal rape, a man run over by a train and someone who was hung in such a way that their blood sprayed everywhere. I remember sitting in the gutter in fromt of Mrs. Marchenka's house because I couldn't sleep, knowing that I had to work for her in about an hour...and trying to suppress or control the disturbing images in my head.
The house where the priests live is still there. It looks a little better than I remembered. It also looks a little more secure. I don't think you can just hop the fence and hang out in that little house that they had in their yard anymore. I don't even know if that little house is there anymore. No more homeless men stashing ladies underwear pictures underneath the rug in there anymore I guess. And what if Casson and I had been caught by one of those freaks? YEEEAAAASH.
The thing that will always slay me is the view though.
You can see down Franklin Street to as far as your eyes need to go. You can see the bay. You can see it all. St. James' is still down the street. It is all there. It is intact.
What was the name of that kid who died down the street? I remember walking by them and actually being cool with Joe N. and Manny one day. That guy was there too. They were listening to the Beastie Boys album, and in my head I was realizing how far ahead of them I was on the music scene. Now as I type this, I am realizing that my timeframe is proabably off. Yeah, I was cool with Joe N. and Manny, but the kid I am thinking of was already dead.
We parked for a second where I used to park my Torino. I will never forget changing the oil in that thing, but being so scattered that I drove over the oil bucket on my way out of there, and not realizing it until I got back. Black oil soaked that part of the pavement. Many times I scorched my tires on that spot to burn the oil off. What a dork I was.
Mine never looked like this thing. Shoot, those days are so blurry, all I can remember is that the thing was white, drank gas and made a painful pop in the drivetrain every time it went into gear. I remember asking one of my stoner friends if he knew what that popping sound was. he said he thought it was the bell housing. That is the caliber of idiot I used to run with.
I guess I am like Bear in the sense that my heart soars when I think about Monterey. I tried to kill it, but it is there. I can't escape it. Yes, Monterey eats its children. There is no doubt of that whatsoever, but it is so beautiful. It takes living away from this place in order to appreciate Steinbeck.
Then there is my lust for the ocean. I have said this in close conversations of my life recently, that the ocean is so beautiful, and that the things that are happening out there are so fascinating (like say, a pod of otters or the "reverse steam") that if someone were to write about them in a novel or a poem, the critics would say that the writer was reaching. I have to get a fix of the Pacific Ocean every time I can. I have to look across the bay to Moss Landing and see the smokestacks whenever it is clear. I have to absorb as much of this place as I can. Who knows when I will be trapped away from this body of water again? I want to know when I am far away from this body of water that I respected it.
To this day, I will always wonder how I was 80 miles away from Bear when he died and I had no idea that he was there. He was in Dallas, I was in Lindale. He was battling insanity, and I was grappling with spirituality. I have wished and wished that our lives could have intersected. The eeriest part of it all was that I came home to Monterey, and that was when I learned that Bear was dead. One thousand miles away from the fact. I went to his funeral and saw the old cats. I don't think that they recognized me, and I didn't want them to. My dope-smoking days were over. Damn. Going to Monterey today really unlocked me today. I was locked up somehow. It all seemed so small too. I remember that place as HUGE. I remember playing kick the can out there until the neighbors came out and told us to be quiet or maybe go home.
I remember those tobacco stained streets.
We used to be able to lift off from the top of the hill and get to MPC in less than 10 minutes. I owned the streets with my Nishiki.
I could sit here and be nostalgic and more nostalgic. I could talk about going fishing and cleaning the fish in the gutter. I could talk about taking fish to Mrs. Marchenka and looking down in the bucket and seeing that one of the fish had tried to eat the other and was dead with his brother halfway down his throat.
I could talk about the Mahoney Bros. and how they were beating the hell out of each other and this adult came to break them up and they both turned on him, because it was none of his business how they conducted their family matters.
I could tell of Joe, and how we watched the Road Warrior up at his house and how shook I was after seeing that rape scene. Maybe it was the boomerang to the pretty boy's face that wrecked me harder...I just don't know.
The times were good up there. I never thought that I would admit that to myself...but I accept it now. It takes leaving a place, and coming back with a heart full of new questions and desires to rething and revisit things properly.
I could go on and on. But I will stop now.
Tagline: The world was watching in 1972 as 11 Israeli athletes were murdered at the Munich Olympics. This is the story of what happened next.
My loud friend Alex and I went to go see this movie last night. I knew that it was going to be hard...but I had no idea how well thought out the sucker was going to be. The bottom line...the thesis...the idea behind it all was (as we took it) "how much poison will a man invite into his household"?
This stuff was HARD. I am one desensitized individual, but the eventual unraveling of the slaughter of those athletes told slowly through the course of this almost 3 hour epic really got to me.
The innocent victims eat bullets. Some potential innocent victims survive. Spielberg is famous for this stuff, remember the shower in Schindler's List that actually gave water rather than poison gas? Think like this and you will save your ass some serious stress at one point. Yes, this film is rated R on the violence tip. But there are lines that Spielberg just doesn't like to cross.
Ooooh, blood in the milk.
Bullets to the face.
Splatter to the wall.
A knife to the head.
Husbands and wives blasted to death together in bed.
Explosions and charred bodies hanging from ceiling fans.
I'm telling you, this makes the fingernail scene in Syrianna look like a nice walk through Main Street in Disneyland. SPIELBERG DELIVERS. When the camera is shy of the violence, the potential image that he sidesteps is better left inside the head. WHAT CAN I SAY? This stuff is crack cocaine. I am impressed. It has been 24 hours and I am still in a post-coital glow with this film. And I have seen a lot of film in my day.
This thing wrecked me.
Spielberg is once again THE MAN. I have personally ripped and distributed amongst my people many copies of the 5 minute scene from War of the Worlds where people get dusted. Why? BECAUSE THAT IS ALL THAT IS GOOD WITH THAT FILM. And what else has Spielberg done for me lately? NOT MUCH. I have to hand it to the man for Minority Report. But then I take it away from him with AI. Catch Me if You Can? Was I really supposed to buy the Sinque story in Amistad? There is a weird tug of war here. It has been like this for YEARS. Bottom line though? Jaws owns me every time. EVERY TIME I SAID. He got those fools to ACT. Acting is what happens in this film. He gets his crew to put it down. I am not even going to touch on how well Geoffery Rush was. But I am throwing his name into this mix because he was so convincing right down to his accent that I thought he was someone else until I watched the credits.
Munich is Spielberg back in action with the sickness. It just starts off...full speed ahead. No credits. No rolling names of people you've never heard of to start the film. Just the facts...rolling with a 70s graininess that INSPIRED me. The film is beautiful. In these days of crazy-assed jagged camerawork, Spielberg holds it pretty steady and lets the actors act. The credits roll at the end.
Enough Spielberg gushage. Next up is ERIC BANA. Yeah, I saw Chopper. Yeah, I saw the Hulk. Yeeeeaaah. I saw Chopper because I knew Bana had been tapped for the Hulk, and I needed that stuff under my belt before I saw the CG Hulk take out some hulk-dogs. GENIUS. This man can act. Chopper will make you wince, but then again, the sheer power of Bana's presence makes you wonder what is going down in Hollywood and why this guy isn't getting more, more, MORE. Yeah, I'm not going to mention Troy. That trash doesn't count as a film. I cut the scene where Brad Pitt jumps up and countersinks his sword in home-giant's neck and did a similar distribution project as what I mentioned with War of the Worlds. Why? That was the money shot and the only good thing about that damn film. Eric Bana is the man, and he was struggling with absolute crap in Troy. I forgive him.
Bana is the man in a big way, because even when you know that the film is cut so that they could paint tears on his face, the EMOTION IS THERE. Look people, I can count how many times I have cried in my adult life. When I have cried, it has been PAINFUL. Like, the tear ducts hurt because they aren't used to salty tear manufacturing.
Eric Bana as Avnir has a scene of pain/sadness, and he captures it. Think Brad Pitt learning about a head in a box at the end of Se7en. This is the kind of emotion I am talking about. Maybe the Se7en reference isn't good, because Bana TOPS THAT STUFF POINT BLANK. I am just trying to think of scenes in movies where men cry and it WORKS. The bottled up "I can't do anything about this situation and it is KILLING me" emotion. That is how Eric Bana conveys his emotion. Homeboy delivers.
Ok, so the plot. It was a Jewish Godfather plot. Familycentric all the way. Bana works for Mossad. It is 1972. Israel has to make a stand against the terroroists that killed their athletes. Bana is told that he can go to work for the government off the books. He won't exist. He can't come home until the job is done. Bana goes for it, and leaves his 7 month pregnant wife behind, for the cause of his country.
And this is the poison. He shoulda told these people to pound sand. But he doesn't. He hustles. He is dropping fools and planting bombs. He is sneaking home to see his daughter when she is born. This all is taking a terrible toll on him. And at the end, he is a paranoid shell of a man. His boss won't even break bread with him.
A particularly disturbing scene comes after he gets home and he is making love to his wife. But his brain isn't there, it is at the airport where the athletes were killed. I don't need to get too far into it, but the man is completely plagued with his past. So much so that when he collapses on his wife, the camera angle makes him look INHUMAN. he is no longer the bright-eyed, cooking father-to-be but some sort of monster. Unnatural.
Alex and I are both parents. Our combined broodpower clocks at 5. We constantly talk about what it means to be a man/father/husband in this society and what the hell is wrong with the whole thing. Munich is an example of the job taking the parent/husband OUT. Munich is about honor, and what is the best honor? Was it best for Avnir to serve his country? The rest of his life is totally jacked up as a result of his servitude. The cost is too great. The whole thing is saying, on a micro level that family comes first...and all of the bloodshed (including the execution of a female assasin that is meant to pull at your heartstrings in a pathetic way) means nothing. What point violence? Will violence solve the problem? This is the core, the visible level. But so many other factors weigh in on this film that I can't dismiss it.
The family concept is also explored with the family that Avnir scores his info from. Avnir is blindfolded, and when he comes to, he is surrounded by kids. The patron of the family is a gentle man (I think he was that bullet plucking, philosophy spewing dude from Ronin). The man actually asks Avnir to refer to him as "Papa". It is this whole concept of the value of family as a backdrop for extreme warfare for the protection of other families.
And to think that this stuff is loosely based on the truth? My head is SWIMMING. Thankyou Mr. Spielberg, I am not going to talk mess about you for SOME TIME.
Damn it was good.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
The above pic is from a more confusing time in my life. Back when I was trying to be a teacher in a system that is totally about money and test scores and not about the beautiful individuals that teachers are put in charge of.
That stuff ruined me. Broke my heart and left me with more questions about he state of our society than anything else out there PERIOD.
Perhaps I will rant about it more later...but there is a lot of stuff to touch down with here, and I will get right to the meat of my posting here like a madman at this time. It is nebulous though, so don't expect any real answers. I am processing stuff...and as I process, more truth will come to light. Understand that this is a public forum, and I am not just gonna drop trou for strangers though.
Yeah, I have an intense draft in the chamber here. I don't even know if I will put it out there. It is hard to remove the caripace out here. Especially when my fakkin name is on it. I will put it out as it makes more sense. It is just about postmodern Xtian angst. Stuff that probably only concerns a small crowd of people who came up in Xtianity in the 80s and now don't know where it all fits, because the American war machine is stupid that way. Because the churches out there are stupid that way. Because complacency rules the wasteland. Because if there ever was a hypocrite walking the face of the earth trying to figure shit out, it would be me. I am conflicted to the core on many levels, but I continue to march on and function...surrounded by 360 degrees of pain and suffering.
I once knew this guy (I kicked his ass a few years ago) who got in my face and told me that I was conflicted. I doubted him. He kept on picking at me, telling me that I was deeply conflicted and that he could tell that I was. If I'd had my wits about me, I would have flipped that shit on him and pointed out his conflicts that I saw within himself. But I didn't. I was at a weak moment in life and I went into the introspective whirlpool with a vengeance. In my prosessing, I would out kicking his ass. He needed it, and if I see him again, I will kick his ass again, because I don't need anyone coming up telling me stuff that I already know now.
But that conflict is something that is now exposed. It is something that I am dealing with, and I have come to the conclusion that we are all conflicted. We all have our problems. We all struggle with being human.
And perhaps I will post the blog that I have in the chamber, and perhaps I won't.
And the one that reads something about "read these in order" is something that is a project and that is that. There is truth there, but overall...it is something that is ultimately better than truth. I am not done with it yet.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
I just threw the last three here. Whatever.
Shadow of the Colossus was dope. It took me awhile to take down that last boss, but it was worth it. Luther is doing the extra missions and I will swoop his card when the time comes. Old school is still pwning me. I did beat level five in Time Pilot a few times. Racked up my 160,000 points. Yeah...wtvr. I promise to keep my gaming noize down in here and focus on more interesting things...but I don't want to lose the text that I have already generated.
Soul Calibur 3 and the Colossus
posted at 10/31/2005 11:04 AM EST
Yeah, Burnout Revenge had me locked there for a bit. I am on the last tier. I have to get gold all the way through. I was getting ready to do just that when Colossus dropped. That thing really has my attention. I am on Boss #14 right now. I don't have the time to just throw at this thing like other people. If I am sitting down for it, I will try to take 2-3 bosses down. But I am not playing it every day. As a matter of fact, I didn't play it at all last week. I have other things on the go. If you know me, then you know what i am talking about.
Fizz did pick up Sould Calibur 3. He is being very shady with it. He hides it because he doesn't want me practicing too much. I pwned him outright with my Soul Calibur 2 Cervantes tactics. My Astaroth needed a little. I wasn't even looking for air grabs or any of the fun stuff that I usually do. I was just trying to get out of some severe close-range Nightmare pokage. It was good. Astaroth...wow. Once I have a little practice time, this trash will be over. All I have been able to do with Ivy is look at the moves list. I am looking forward to stretching her out again. She takes work. When SC2 came out, I went to task with her. In three solid weeks I built her into a SERIOUS BEAST. So serious iun fact that I coulnd't fairly play my competition. It just wasn't fair. She was untouchable. I had those stances on lock. I have never been into stance characters. I once tried for a bit to get Lei down in Tekken 3 and found the trash to be tedious. Ivy in the other hand has a lot of trickery built into each stance change. Furthermore, she can deal damage in her process of changing. That really appealed to me.
Cervantes is holding it down. His new command grab, straight outta Street Fighter is NOICE. The gunfire is NOICE too. Not like I am going to be landing that stuff AT ALL. I did shoot Fizz's Nightmare in the head for a ring-out though.
Why do I not feel it like in years past? I think a big part of it is that i am not teaching anymore. Bakc when i had students to hang out in the classroom after school and throw down...those were the days. Specifically with SC2. Those guys weren't ready for my skills whatsoever...but they learned. Towards the end, I was throwing everything I had at a "tap-tap-tap" happy Raphael...and I couldn't guarantee my wins.
Same with Tekken 5. I used to play a grip of people...people have moved on. It gets old beating the computer down and earning sunglasses let me tell you.
This is why I am having a lot of fun with the Colossus. It is me versus these big stupid bosses. Actually, they aren't so stupid now. They are getting pretty cheap. I have this dog thing ramming pillars. Every time he hits me, if I don't fly into a corner or somewhere safe, he will PWN the rest of my life bar...slowly. Hit after hit. Now that i know that when pillar falls and i am on top of it, all I need to do is keep the R1 button down, rather than trying to jump at the next one in mid-flight...well, I will be taking dog guy out next time I fire that beast up.
Ok...that's all for now.
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Burnout Revenge among other things...
posted at 09/26/2005 11:33 AM EDT
I picked it up the day it dropped. I have been up IN this game. I don't have the time to play it that I would like, but I am tearing it open.
I read on the beards that some head was complaining about the crashbreakers in races. Well, that trash needs to get unlocked. You don't just start dropping crashbrakers on heads. I like the way the game is laid out too. You have your 9 BIG MISSION sites, and then sub-sites within the 9 big ones. This one is different too, because you are playing to earn more and more reckles definitions of yourself, rather than cars. Cars are just handed to you. The routes seem to be a pastiche of all of the old Burnouts. Specifically the Rome setup from Burnout 1.
I know that I am playing this game hard because when I close my eyes, I seee blue "shortcut" lights and yellow lines. I have had the same sort of experience with the previous Burnouts too.
AM I ADDICTED? YES I AM. And I have only been playing solo. With the Fizzorama gets further along, we'll start warring. The only thing about the game that i dislike, and have always disliked is the "crash" setup. I guess there is some beauty to it, but I find it ultimately frustrating. I can make whatever they want me to make, but in this incarnation, it seems like they just out and out lie to you. They show you the track, but the big points or the solution is not on the track at all. te solution is elsewhere. That gets old. Furthermore, when you lift off, you pull to the left something fierce. I don't know what is up with that. I had a lot more fun blowing myself up and going for the X4 than this...but I must say that graphically, this game is a BEAST on this level.
Tagging traffic is a LOT of fun. I find that when I am racing and I have opponents around me, that the more traffic i tag, the more chances I have that I am going to score a takedown.
I have played the game for about 9 hours already...and dammit...I AM HOOKED.
Shadow of the Colossus comes out next month. That will probably be my next move. Even though I scored that Tekken stick for 10 bones, I haven't booted that game up in WEEKS. I dunno. Has the Tekken fire died in me? At this point it has. I cite it to a lack of competition. I don't do tourneys, I do living rooms. And no one in my immediate circle is doing living rooms right now. My regular comp is outta town perpetually. When he is in town, he gives me about a one hour warning. So I don't even really have time to warm it up. We'll see.
Soul Calibur3? I haven't caught the bug yet. This whole "design your fighter" trash sounds gay to the utmost degree. Like SERIOUSLY GAY. Like, not interested. I like the VF customizations. I like the T5 customizations...but this trash just sounds like trash. If I go to war with someone, I am not going to know what kinda moves list they will be coming at me with. I could be ready to deal with a Nightmare and catch a Voldo. I could be ready for an Astaroth and catch a Taki. This DOES NOT sound like fun to me. I could be misreading the whole thing, but it sounds like they may have very well dummied the thing down to elementary school level.
Anything else? I am not really looking forward to the PS3 either. I mean, what are they gonna release on it? FF Whatever? I need to either a)embrace RPGs or b) shoot my damn self.
I need to go see THE HISTORY OF VIOLENCE. My old college buddy IAN landed a part in it and I am hyped. Apparently his part has some critics really praising him. We'll see. I will have to deke out of work early on friday I think in order to ccatch this trash.
Gottago. I'll be back around.
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OLD SCHOOL IS PWNING ME
posted at 08/29/2005 11:53 AM EDT
My goodness. I had a post here, and I was 3/4 through it and then I was able to step out of myself and realize just how offensive it was. I think I need to think about the subject for a few more days before I do in fact put it here...because that thing was full of piss and vinegar and and in sore need of some non-offensive balance.
Ok, MILLIPEDE. Why am I playing this game incessantly? I'll tell you why...because I tear it up. Why can't I go back in time and use the skills that I now have to PWN up fools in the past? Man... I pulled a 600,000+ game the other day from the BEGINNING and I have a lot more where that came from.
ok, DEFENDER. Why do I fire up the PS2 and play this classic? That game will PWN me for the rest of my life. With no extra man bonuses, starting with 3 men I will never make it past attack wave 8 without the finger of God. I must have played that game 1 million times. I still love it though.
ok, ROBOTRON. I can't get much past the 600,000 mark. I crumple. I fold. I lose 6-8 men in a row. I need to rethink my general board pattern. That game is mad fun though. The procerss is basically to get 100,000 points per every Brain Wave. I have the tractors pretty much locked. I have the grunt waves (specifically 9 and 19) locked. It is all a spheroid situation. I don't remember having this kind of problem with them in my past.
ok, TIME PILOT '84.
Why did I fire up that Konami Classics disc? Why? I can make it to 2024 or whatever that is, but will i ever pass it? I freakin doubt it. I NEED TO BE ABLE TO USE THE STIX FOR THAT GAME. D-Pad mishaps are taking me out.
Gyruss is the game that San Andreas mocks in the apartment video game setup. Gyruss? I used to get to earth like 2x. Those days are over. Why? D-PAD mishaps. GIMME MY STIX.
Back in the day, I could clear the board 2x. Now I can barely make it to the base the first time. Why? D-PAD. Gimme the stic and I will school that game.
17,000 is about as far as a muphukka can get. I would kill to get my hands on SCORE! BEATING THE TOP 20 VIDEO GAMES by Ken USTON (I think that was his name). Back in the day, that book was the bible. Uston died a little while ago BTW.
Ok...that is my old school update. There is more... but man.
So what is up with this TEKKEN DARK HORIZONES whatevertheheck? I am NOT FEELING IT. Tekken 5.1 is something that is beyond me. I don't abuse Steve or Nina or Heihachi's broken 2,1 1+2 so WTH? I don't even use the Paul d/f2 back sway option that much. They slowed it down though. I don't use the Feng stomp that much but apparently it has been toned back HARD. Tekken had better kick some competition my way or I will pack that thing in. Everyone I know except A. have moved on from it. Why? Too much of a good thing I guess. I NEED MORE COMP! I want to play for fun and for laughs. I am not into tourneys. Man I miss the old classroom days.
SC2? Cervantes is BACK ONLINE. Unfortunately the FIZZORAMA hasn't been practicing his Voldo. SC3 cometh. But on the highest note?
BURNOUT REVENGE THIS WEEK.
I am getting ready to get lost in that one. Fizz was playing TAKEDOWN the other day and just watching it go down got the blood pumping. I have loved that series and I have handled that series correctly.
Burnout 1. PWNED me for 3 weeks straight.
Burnout 2. PWNED me for 2 more weeks.
Burnout 3. Still Pwns. it is a good time every time it is on.
I have beaten it 3x already due to bad memory card file issues.
Revenge cannot miss.
I'll get back witcha.
This is a typical video game post. It is too bad that SC3 didn't hold our attention for as long as I thought it would. Ivy's moveslist got all jacked up and Luther never quite nailed his Yoshimitsu. Cervantes the dread pirate pwned the wasteland...and I never actually landed an Astaroth air grab. *sigh*
I Had to Kill My Whole Crew To Get To You
posted at 08/22/2005 11:15 AM EDT
Rookie me accidentally sent this off as a PM.
I'll figure out this system yet.
Last night's post:
That has been my mantra as I work Cervantes vs L. He is bringing in the Yoshimitsu. I am glad that he is finally at a stage where he can bring some good strats to the board. His Nightmare was a good taste of the fighting game genre. He was able to school every low-mid level player just with brute force. It took me a bit to figure out what exactly Astaroth had to do to keep the Nightmare at bay. L can still school everyone who doesn't know his game. I am looking forward to some serious Yoshi rounds here in the near future. The problem with this SC2 revival? TEKKEN 5. I have to think of a different engine when I play T5. A and I are scheduled for a friday throwdown here pretty quick. I need to park all SC2 habits and start pulling back to block again. He just went to EVO, so I am going to have to brace myself for an inevitable beatdown. He has stepped out of a realm where he has been playing/observing THE BEST IN THE NATION. I will have my juggles down. Time to put the FENG to work. I will brush up on my Bryan and really concentrate on the King. Marduk too. I am looking forward to it. If I am feeling confident later this week, I will pull out the Heihachi and work with him again. Paul is good no matter what I do. I just need to incorporate the d+1+2 shoulder for whiffs. Keep him rolling. A little UP setup practice will be good too. I need to throw out the UP when he gets up with a kick. Good times. Sidestep and of course, think of mix-ups, mix-ups, mix-ups. I'll be back.
So we played MANY ROUNDS.
Astaroth was getting pwned up by that Voldo. L has a good Voldo. He just needs to learn to throw moves out on reaction and not go hunting for that one crowd plaeaser. Whatever the case is, Astaroth lost 3 rounds in a row and it was time to tag in Cervantes. The pirate just tears holes in things. I was running him at about 1/2 tank too. Pulled a double perfect. I looked at the strat guide after we got donew throwing down and I was all "ohhhh yeaaaahhhh" as far as remembering moves that I hadn't used. FIERCELY LINEAR GAMEPLAY. I need to start working the horizontals in if I am going to get back into him. My Cervantes was a total beast a few years ago...and I can rip through the basic routines, but I need to mix him up a little more. Cervantes is good for some HARDCORE LOWS. And who in their right mind doesn't want the cannonball lifter to that "power forearm pulse" with your opponent air-grabbed? SO DOPE.
I promised L. That I wouldn't warm Cervantes up during the week, seeing as he isn't going to be playing. This way, I can concentrate on the TEKKEN. which is going to own my soul here real quick.
Tonight: Feng training.
Off to work.
This one is a media update. A little more teeth to it, methinks.
YES I'M A PIRATE. READ ON.
posted at 08/11/2005 02:44 PM EDT 1 Thumbs
Yeah, I yanked Feng up to Tekken Lord level...which means absolutely nothing until I actually play some heads. I know his mechanics and I know his mixups and I have his juggles down. Now I just need to put in my time and keep him fresh. Now I can go back to Marduk and King. King needs a stronger poking game. I just need to concentrate on making him more unpredictable. marduk? mix-ups are going to save me there.
Heihachi? needs some work. The T5 incarnation of the old man has changed his physics a bit and I haven't quite figured it out yet. Plus qcf+2 hits everything at arcade level, so there is no real challenge. Oh, I wish I could go back to the days of TTT when EVERYONE WAS PLAYING. Now I have to wait for loooooong stretches before i get decent comp. Whatever, it is a fun hobby.
Man, I have cracked 2 MUVO 1 GB players already. Neither of them have made it past the 2 month mark. This really sucks because they are forcing me in an IPOD direction. I don't want an IPOD. That is sellout status. So now I have 160$ in the form of a Circuit City gift card and I have to make a move. I don't have to, but I would like to. The gym is pretty boring without beats. The vanpool ride is pretty boring without beats.
OR...do I blow that 160 bux on..oh I dunno..God of War and a bunch of DVDs? I have had the gift card for almost a month now as I toss these ideas around in my head. The music file that I was using is totally backed up on my work computer, and I am adding to it and taking from it as if I was actually loading it regularly. I work with a bunch of MP3 hounds and we are sending stuff back and forth on company emails all day long. I have 10gb of music stashed on the harddrive here and I have the same file zipped and stashed on the company server. There is another music file out there that people are tapping into. The problem has been that the people in the building with APPLE log onto a different network than us PC heads. I know that the jump is possible, but I haven't asked the right techie how it is done. It will happen though. It is such a shell game. There are techies here that I talk to, but every now and then, I hear this rebuke from them to someone else about surfing online or storing data on their work computers etc, etc. I need to find the man who is DOWN for the cause. I have a guess who it is, but I haven't quite gotten in with the guy yet.
So my buddy Ian is going to be in the ne HISTORY OF VIOLENCE movie from Croenenberg. I had pretty much given up on that guy after SPIDER (actually, CRASH was my last straw of patience with the man). But now, to see the scotchman onscreen as some thug named "Ruben"...well, Croenenberg will glean yet another buck from me. Other than that..what is there? I still need to see BATMAN. I downloaded it, but I got about 15 minutes in and realized that this was going to be a big screen experience. Watched the WEDDING CRASHERS the other day. What a joke. Glad the copy was just that...a copy. And I am a Vince Vaughn fan. That thing was mediocrity squared. And what is up with Owen Wilson? That fool is making decent cash, he should get his damn nose fixed.
I'll be back.
Oh, I corrupted my Arcade Classics memory card and lost everything. Whatever... I turned around and put 590,000 on Robotron point blank. I'll get back to you.
I tell you what. When I play Tekken, I get down. Read on. Or don't...because this is the dorky stuff right here...
posted at 08/02/2005 11:17 AM EDT
I got right back and typed this up, but it wouldn't take. So here it is again.
So A. and I fianlly threw down. I had practiced a little, but I wasn't
up to speed. This wasn't a night where I kept a 10-15 round lead on him. I
held it down from about 5-8 games ahead. He is coming up, let me tell you.
My being rusty as hell didn't help matter much. What I do know is that I
was in the lead PERIOD. He finally evened the score when we started to play
silly matches with characters we don't know. He obviously has some
knowledge of Raven and Feng, because he was rolling me with those two.
This is what I noticed:
Hwoarang was a BEAST. There is one character that he has that scares me and
that is Hwoarang. That bitch can poke me to death. If he goes up into
flamingo stance though, he gets a deathfist, POINT BLANK. A. has
invested his time in safe oki moves to keep me rolling. I couldn't handle
him with Paul as well as I wanted, it was Bryan situation. WATCH OUT FOR
THE JUGGLE UPPERCUT. The hitbox must be half the screen. That stuff hurt.
A's Bryan is totally ownable except for one thing, he is a total
snakes's edge whore. I was eating that low shot for days. As a matter of
fact, his whole game is based around that cheesy low move. Block that and
return it with the fisherman's hook and it is ON. My Bryan outpokes.
Furthermore, A. was falling for the windmill kick like all damn day. I
was landing that stuff like crazy. He brought out Kuma and I just nailed
that bear with that move for 3 rounds straight. I put him in his place with
that stuff. He shouldn't be bringing Kuma to the table period after all of
the mess he talked back in TTT.
A's Kazuya is BACK. Horribly reversible, but back. If I eat the
hellsweeps, I am going to get rolled for half of my life bar.
And he throws all day. I had to wake up to that. When I practice, I don't
throw. I started throwing like crazy after I saw his patterns. It is
usually something like "punch pattern, punch pattern, throw." I started to
catch onto it. My Paul is still strong and I pulled off an Ultimate
Punishment. I was using two-button break throws, PERIOD. I had the
guessing game on.
My biggest disappointment was my King. I must have buffered the Giant Swing
8-10 times, but it wasn't coming out. That was another thing, I was
breaking in a new controller. Whatever the case, my Marduk was good.
So what do I know?
GET UP KICKING LOW. He is ready for the kick to the face (finally). OR
DON'T GET UP KICKING AT ALL.
GET YOUR SIDESTEPPING GAME ON. I was so fiercely linear that it was
ridiculous. I coulda been SS 1,1,2ing him out with Heihachi. My Heihachi
is totally broken at this point. I am sending him back for a serious
BRYAN OWNS THE WASTELAND.
I don't care what A. says about Bryan being 'easy' or whatever. I have
been playing that zombie since T3. I am not going to park him now. I need
to get my juggles a little sharper and it is on.
A. switched sides, so all night I was player 2. I wasn't really ready
for that maneuver, but that is how he plays.
BLOCK LOW. His last shot is ALWAYS LOW.
That is all I have at this point. I didn't lose tonight, but I wasn't
rolling him up either. A 5 round winning streak isn't anything to really
brag about, and by the time we got to round 65 or so, it was even, and I was
I'll get back with you here...
*couple of additional points here*
A. is posting that using Bryan is cheap because Bryan is top tier. I find that interesting sice he was such a Mishima whore in TTT. He is going to Evo though, and I wish him luck. Maybe he will show up on the big disc that gets released.
If we are going to be warring and I am going to be on the P2 side, well then peeeaace. Because my thumbs OWN that direction. I will just have to stay immersed in the game until the next throwdown.
And FENG is coming.
More. This is about me throwing down with Andrew. I am going to have a serious TTT battle with that guy in about a week and a half. I have to get my practice on and quit doing dumb stuff like this here.
This is actually number 3
posted at 08/01/2005 11:37 AM EDT
Yeah, A. and I threw down the other night. I wrote this fat post up, but it wouldn't take on sat night. So it is a text file on my desktop on my home computer. I'll try putting it up here later. It is all about strat and perceived attacks and ways to sharpen game.
This is what I have come to the conclusion of: He wants to win, period. No matter how cheap, no matter how dishonorable. He will find whatever cheap sort of frame advantage cheeseball exploitable move that is there to get that win in. I held it down, but I saw the cheapness of it all.
On that note, forget that guy, i am going to hustle up some Feng. Complete high speed domination. No mercy. I will have my classier acts, but sure, if he is going to be bringing the cheapness, i will have to show him what true frame advantage is. I'm going to cut and paste some serious feng strats here in a bit. Peeeaace.
hey, it is just a game. Something to keep my mind occupied as I black out to and from work on that death bus.
To beef this spot up off the bat, I am moving all of my other files into this place. There is some stuff there worthwhile. There is some stuff there that isn't. I will keep the moves lists out. But the rest is coming onboard. If you don't like video game musings...well, maybe you should start now...shouldncha, homeboy.
posted at 07/26/2005 11:47 AM EDT
Look, I already have my Tekken Skills. the problem is that Andrew and I have a showdown this coming weekend. He has been playing with the likes of Bronson and other Bay Area heads. (Bronson? The California champ who dumped Jinmaster with those 3 bitchass Nina moves)? I need to get my skills up. Yesterday was the basics. My Paul is a war machine. My Bryan just needs a little juggle tuning and then it is on there. Tonight, if I can get to it, I need to brush up King and Marduk. It sucks that I am limited to playing the computer, because the computer doesn't have the reaction time that the humans that I play have. Plus the computer breaks every damn grab that comes its way. whatever the case, I know that Andrew is GS whoring these days, and I need to practice
a) breaking that giant swing and
B) tech rolling out of it.
My King is stronger than his anydamnways. But if he gets in close, he is going to go for the giant swing.
I really don't think he is ready for the Marduk that I am going to bring him. I just don't think so. The last time we played and I busted out Marduk, he was all about T4 and not T5. the game is different now....WS moves will pwn. there is a lot more trickery with Marduk than before. Though I do miss that silly-ass slap move I used to do to finish a match. I'll get back to you on Marduk tomorrow. back to Bryan.
Slitherstep to the double hammer is something that I am going to be pushing. Slither stepping in general. i am going to have to use it for a distance closer. I think it hits mid. This is what I need. I have sort of worked the snake edge out of the game, and I need to throw it out more, especially when he brings his Hwoarang.
I also need to be able to drop that new b~f+2 on instinct. That is the whiff payment right there. Duckable unfortunately. I also want to start fishing for the hands of doom more. He doesn't duck the second one. If I play that right, it is like 80 dmg if I drop a mach fist onto the end of the juggle. Also, punch parry. I need to check and see if I am supposed to hit 2 or 1 after I bait it out. His Kazuya will eat his share of those.
Paul: I need to brush up on U.P and the demo man. I also need to throw out the qcf elbow more. I don't even try for that counterhit, and that really needs to start.
Aside from Tekken, I am on a real Midway Arcade Hits trip. I mean, I play Robotron whenever I can. Man, I used to own that game up in the arcade back in the day...but I just don't have it all like i used to. But the strats are coming back. The big one being that 100,000 points should be generated every 5 waves NO MATTER WHAT. Attack waves 9 and 19 screw me up completely. 100+ grunts on the screen, yeesh. I usually cut my way out to the ceiling, but these days, I am starting to look at the board in less of a pattern and more of an organic FUBAR situation. The game is completely unfair. It knows it too. I can get to the 4000 point humanoid, but then all hell breaks loose EVERY TIME I start looking for the 5th. The computer kickes it up a serious notch once I start racking up the points. If I make it to the Mikey wave, I am doing alright. I usually get torn at about wave 24. 600,000 is my all time best. I should be better than that.
Man I love Eugene Jarvis. Those little vids on the disc are the best. Talking about reaching down within you and finding the rage that you need to beat the game. What I would give to go back in time and listen to those guys as they plotted Defender and Robotron. I pulled a 160,000 point game on Defender last sunday. I was hanging on by one smart bomb and I accidentally blew out my last humanoid. man I love that game. I'll be back
Look, my brother has been posting here for like 5 years or something. I was posting on this other site, but I felt like a total dork posting over there. The place is called 1up.com. Video game central. I won't tell you what handle I have there...I'll do you one better. I'll lift all of the stupid videogame trash that I had over there nad post it here. Dump the ex and move in with my new lover...so to speak. I have nothing to say at this point. Other than the fact that I downloaded King Kong and I am about to watch the third act. I guess I shouldn't be just putting that out in cyberspace right now...but WTVR. I have a lead on the Academy screener copy anyway...so when they kick in the door, stuff will be legit. Because that is how I get down.
Another thing about this place is that I won't tell a damn soul about it. If you find this spot, well good for you. Seriously. Leave me a comment or something. But I ain't tripping. There is a lot of stuff going on and I need to process my thoughts...dear LORD there is a lot of stuff going on.
Kendy, I owe you an email. Just so you know that I know that you know.
Alex, me and you go and see MUNICH next monday. I'll buy a pack of Camels and we'll smoke in front of the Presbyterian church like we always do on movie night.
Luther, You are 13. But that doesn't mean that you can buy CDs with parental advisory stickers on them yet. Especially since most of those CDs tend to suck. Trust me son, I know.
Ysabel, Your email account is BREAKING ME AT WORK. How the hell are you sending me 25 emails a day? I love you to death, kid...but PUH-LEASE! These 1 sentence emails are breaking a Poppa.
Ivan, You conniving little trickster. How the hell are you coming around the house going "that's hella cool" and then changing it up to "Hecka cool"? You are six damn years old. I didn't learn that trick until I was in my 20s.
One more thing.
I had to get down and straight SCHOOL them at work today. I got an email from this one guy who was all telling me about Peter Jackson and how he directed horror movies in the past and he sent the "I kick ass for the Lord" clip. Like it was something freaking new. I had to turn around and copy everyone with the fact that I have my own copy of Dead Alive and that I had seen it 5+ times. I also mentioned the fact that the RAT MONKEY is referenced in King Kong and that I had ripped the scene. Then I attached the scene and sent it out on the big work email. I have to give MB his props though. Homeboy keeps up. He is down with the film on a level most are not.
My theory on Quentin Tarantino's success with Pulp Fiction hashed out in the Starbucks Drive-thru with the SS today:
"He was like a weird guy masturbating in a closet full of women's clothing. Then he comes out wearing all of this random female stuff and people gave him accolades."
Something like that.
Man...I have tons. I'll be back tomorrow. There are no bosses in the office PERIOD.
The rest of this post is TRASH FROM 1UP. If Video games aren't your bag. Then park your eyes and move on, pal.
I'll just do it as next post. Thsi stuff is long and drawn out.