Sunday, November 24, 2013

Later, I found a hole in my pocket

So I was walking to school today, and I realized there was a rock in my shoe. Winter's finally hit the area, and I wasn't about to take off the shoe to loosen the offending pebble right there on the sidewalk. Instead, I grin and bear it for the remaining distance. The problem with having a rock in your shoe, though, is that once you notice it consciously, once you go beyond "my foot hurts" to "hey, there's a rock in my shoe," then the annoyance factor increases by at least 100 Erkels. (I am a child of the 90s, and I WILL measure annoyances in Erkels. It is my right.) It doesn't hurt, not really. Even when jogging with a rock in my shoe, I can't go so far as to say it actually hurts. It's more that it lingers. It dwells. It insiduates. The knowledge that there something lodged in your shoe builds and grows. And if you can't get it out immediately, it becomes the pot you're waiting to boil. The scab you can't pick. The itch you can't scratch. Simply by existing, it infuriates. And the extra kicker here is--I didn't have a rock in my shoe at all! I got to the office, thrust off the shoe, shook it all asunder--and nothing came out. I put the shoe back on and the feeling persists. I check again. Nothing in the shoe. I put it back on. It persists. And then I realized that I still felt the encumbrance even when the shoe was off. I checked my sock, and.... sure enough... a dime came out. How about that?

Later Days.

Friday, November 15, 2013

Language warning: DOOM dissertation

And another quotation from yours truly, this time from my dissertation writing:

More generally, DOOM could be considered as the game that cemented the modern conception of the hard-core gamer, negative stereotypes included. As mentioned earlier, Sega, in its promotion of the Sega Genesis, attempted to appeal to teenaged gamers moving out of Nintendo`s “kid” demographic through connecting coolness to its mascot character Sonic’s speed; id pursued a similar sense of cool, but accelerated it, through an emphasis on speed, violence, and a culture of competition that drew on both. Consider this passage from Kushner`s book-length study on id, wherein he describes Romero’s adoption of a “rock star” persona as the public face of id, and his trip to Austin with id employee Shawn Green:
It was all silent except for the sounds of fingers rattling on keys. But all that changed as the id guys began to play.

Romero hurled a few shotgun blasts into an opponent and yelled, ‘Eat that, fucker!’. The sheepish guy on the computer looked up in fear. Shawn knew that look—the look of a gamer never heard true, unbridled smack-talk, just like he’d been the first time he had heard Romero insult him during a game. But now Shawn was a pro and joined right in. “Suck it down, monkey fuck!” he called, after firing a few blasts from his BFG. The gamers cowered. They would learn. (187)

"Suck it down, monkey fuck." I really need to get done this section on DOOM, because it's reminding me about everything I hate about videogames.

Later Days.

Friday Quotations: It still counts if I'm quoting myself

Me: Every time I put my iPhone cord in my mouth, I feel like I'm a heroin junkie about to tie up his arm to get at a vein.
Friend: Why do you put your iPhone cord in your mouth?
Me: This conversation is over.

Later Days.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

A Rousing Thunder: A Spoilerific review of the new Thor Movie

I went to the new Thor movie with some friends yesterday. Thoughts on that--and on adaptation, father issues, and gender stuff, after the break.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Bing Bling

Often, when installing a new program, you're offered a shiny, FREE new search bar to add to your browser. Well, what I'm wondering is, what kind of schmucks do these people take us for? No, I don't want your free search bar. I'm a highly sophisticated, savy, well-rounded computer user, pal. Listen, I know what free means. Buddy, free means that it's something you're trying to get rid of so you can free up your stock! Well, I'm not falling for it, guy. You get me to use the cheap model now, and when it breaks down right in the middle of me trying to search for the tv listings of my reality soaps, I'll have to take it in to the internet shop!  No thank you, friend. No, I don't want the old beater browser bar. I want the top end model. I want the bells and whistles and I want them to sound off every time I type in the http:// of the url. I want to pay top dollar for the top product, and I'm not going to let some pushy program peddler get away with getting me anything less. I want the Cadillac of search bars. The Rolls-Royce.  Give me the extra extra value meal that I deserve!

...First post this month, and this is what I spend it on. I'm sorry.

Later Days.