The Butterfly Effect

The idea behind this title is to bring into mind the concept that one little variable can have a profound effect on an environment and it's resultant tangents. I mean this in an ironic sense.

One of my biggest peeves is people. One of the things I hate about people, are the ones who find it totally irresistible to talk about themselves. The ones who can't stand to have any one's ears not tuned to his or her own story. Be it their source of emotional pain, or a string of events that details their personal grandeur, I cannot tolerate it. A note to those like that: You aren't that important. Your variable is negligible at best.

I remember having the displeasure of enduring extended, repeated contact with one such individual. He was an emo, and half of his act was to find some way to make his "emotional pain" apparent or at least come to attention in almost every situation. He also always found a way to make every conversation involve him somehow. His opinions were never far from hand either. "I think that...", "When I do that, I...", "My heart was broken when..." He couldn't keep from talking and smearing himself all over everything.

Now some of this may stem from jealousy, at his ability to capture people's attention. After all, we all want to talk about ourselves, and I started a damn weblog just to talk about my thoughts. After all, I'm being a hypocrite just sitting here and ranting. But in reality, this is why I try not to speak about myself in any situation. This poster tries to avoid words like "I" and Me" in conversation. Ask about the other person in the dialogue. Let them be the center of the attention, the chief of the limelight. Let's be whistleblowers on horn-tooting!

If you can only do one thing, just shut the fuck up.

I'm sorry. I'll be quiet now.

-The0

History...history...history...history

So in the middle of healing up a self-inflicted wound, I was invited out to a psychobilly show. Psychobilly is a genre which really isn't in my current vein, but for the night that I had on the 19th, it very well could earn a slot. What follows is a short story.

I limp to my vehicle after visiting a friend, and make my way over to the corner of Cardinal and Locust, which was not a familiar route. I wound up parking about 5 blocks away, and started hobbling over to the club. As I tottered on, I was thinking, "Do I really know this person well enough to go through all this effort? I'm not even a big fan of the style of music." I met the boyo in the midst of a chase that wound out being nothing more than the basis for my manifesto. His friendship is arguably the best thing I got out of the experience.

I'm halfway to the destination when a little sprinkle begins. I've spent enough time in the great outdoors to know when weather is going to go from bad to worse. I run as fast as I can get my busted ass to run to the nearest shelter, which turned out to be the steeple doorway of the St. Francis Xavier College Church. As the drizzle turned to deluge, I found myself thankful for religion again, if only for environmental purposes. I haven't felt that way in a while. Funny the way things work.

While I have spent enough time outdoors to recognize when weather will get bad, I have not, apparently, spent enough time to know when the weather has actually come to the end of it's yarn. The monsoon slowed, and whereas the show was about to start, I had to get moving. I ventured out, and no sooner had 30 seconds passed than it started to pour again. So, here I am, drenched in a matter of seconds, broke, and pretty well lost. But! Detirmined still to reach my goal. (On a side note, if you ever find yourself walking home in the rain, and have nothing else to do with your day, just let it soak you. It feels wonderful.)

I stopped for a quick breather from the rain in a parking garage not far from the bar to which I was heading. I recognized it a few minutes later. It was the garage I had parked in the LAST time I saw this particalur friend. After wringing out my shirt, I asked directions to the bar. The rain stopped. Had I waited 5 more minutes at the church, I would have been perfectly dry. I shouted out, as was my wont, and trudged on.

I did finally make it to the venue, and even talked my way out of the cover. I met my friend, who loaded me down with free swag, to include a dry shirt. I met his friends, and I got to brag about my wound a little. While this meant no moshing during the show, I was still able to enjoy it.

The title of this rant comes from a strange occurance that happened in college. I went to go see Flogging Molly for the first time ever, and was actually pulled up on stage by one of their opening acts, Throw Rag. I was made to play washboard in front of a packed Blue Note. Back to the present. Near the end of the show, my friend (whom I have neglected to mention was now a part of the band,) pulled me up on stage and shoved a washboard in my hands. A packed bar, all moshing to part of my rhythm. It was exhilarating. I didn't pop any stitches, I had a fun time, and I became a little famous again.

I guess the point of this little story is that if you feel like you're going through a harrowing time for next to nothing, stick to it. You might end up having a lot of fun, or at least be a harder person for it. Have fun with life, and try new things.

The Goddamn Gallows Myspace.

-The0

A Study in Hypocrisy

This is a long-ago post that I have decided is just barely worth fleshing out. It is more fully explored in a later post, but honestly, I'm sick of hearing people tell their own life story. Seriously, I don't want to hear it, I want interest expressed in me. That's why I started a damn weblog.

This entire post looks to have been drafted at a time where I was just coming to terms with who I have to work with. I was angry and jealous of the ability of another new hire, and we were both vying for the same job. Turns out we both got hired, and we have since become good, friendly co-workers. As of this out-fleshing, he is farther advanced in the career, but to be fair, he is better at what he does than I am at what I do.

All in all, anger at the time subsided, and this draft is fucking done with. Finished 08/30/2010.

-The0

Occupational Safety Hazards.

I am an Idiot. Through lack of foresight, ignorance of good rules, and a general air of supposed invincibility, I got a personal "first" out of the way.

I got stabbed in the hip. 1.5 inches deep, 1 inch long. 6 stitches. I was dismissed early from work, and they foot the medical bill. After a jocular time with my nurses and doctors, I went home to suffer the aftermath of destroyed subcutaneous tissue and light muscle damage. 6 on the 1 to 10 pain scale.

I have been stabbed. There are hazards to every job, and I think I encountered the biggest hazard of my job.

Myself.

-The0

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Well, due to the recent improvements in my job situation, I was finally able to afford something have wanted for a while now. Readers of this weblog will recall a post about how I somehow managed to resurrect a 9 year old laptop. Unfortunately, its little hard drive was just about as old. It has since crashed, and left me without mobile word processing again. Thus, I was in the position to purchase a new laptop. The Asus Eee PC 901 XP (because I still like Windows.)

A small review. The 901 has more than enough power to multitask. I can run Steam, Trillian, Chrome and voicechat and still not start to lag overly much. It has a pretty nice webcam, so if I ever get around to trying out Skype, that will be fun. If you're considering, get a RAM upgrade. It helps with that. Half-Life runs at a comfortable 70 fps, and that makes it easy to LAN a Sven co-op, and enjoy other moderate gaming applications. I haven't tried HL2 yet, but that seems well off in the distance anyway. I may even attempt that Eee PC hamsterball robot idea. Thank you, Randall Munroe. At 1.6 ghz, it runs all that I need it to, and again, I'm finally typing outdoors and in comfortable places again.

On that key-note, typing is actually a little difficult on this little powerhouse. The keyboard is very small, and my massive hands are having something of a tough time getting used to how minute these keys are. Still, for just under $300 all told, having an ultraportable latptop is very nice. Chic and sleek, and I finally have something to throw at the TV everytime that ridiculous Verizon/HP commercial comes on.

Bricks.

-The0

What Kind of Facebook user are You?

Your Result Is: Infuriated.

Seriously, I have had enough of all these little "What Disney princess are you?" or "What is your Inner self type?" quizzes on Facebook. These quiz results get sent to my "Recent Activity" page from people that are on my friends list. I have no idea whether these come from some stupid app on Facebook, or are just spam, but either way, they have GOT to fucking stop.

I remember a little application craze a couple of years back. They'd let you have a little fun or play a little game, and then it asked you to pass on an invite to 20 of your friends. I stopped there, except for Jedi vs. Sith (On a side note: join our quest to rule the galaxy! The Jedi shall be crushed!) I think we're getting into something much worse now. You can't just ignore quizzes en masse, they will plague you continually, because each new quiz is it's own blockable entity.

Now granted, I'm primarily using Facebook as a replacement for any social life, living vicariously through my friends photos and events, but I also use it to advertise for the band and keep track of my friends birthdays, so that I look like that sweet guy that had the presence of heart to keep track of one buddy's birthday. Anytime I have a notification, I feel as loved as I do when I get a text message. But Facebook is, for all intents and purposes, a social NETWORKING site. Not a fucking slumber party. I've asked friends nicely to please quit with the quizzes. It hasn't worked. I'm thinking I may need to do the next big Facebook trend. Trimming down my friends list. Jerks.

Computer Culture Note: Miscrosoft's Bing launched. I like Google better. Still.

-The0

Half-Life 2, An exospective retrospect

As far as games are concerned in my eyes, Half-Life 2 redefined the way we play. Hell, games are designed differently simply because of the innovations set forth in Half-Life, and Half-Life 2 did more to "raise the bar" than any game sequel to date. If I may rant...

Simply in terms of engine advancement, quality jumped. Renderings were as close to photo-realistic as we had seen to date, even with Doom 3 being on the shelves. The fact that you could pick items up and force them to interact physically with other items in the world provided hours of distracting (and then useful) entertainment. Throwing a can at the metrocops turned out to be as much fun as being submissive and throwing it away like they had demanded. This is so mesmerizing that you nearly forget to notice the world into which you have suddenly been forced.

When last we left our hero, he was sweltering through Black Mesa, NM and then some creepy world called Xen. Now, he's in war-worn Eastern Europe, presumably again "working" for the ever-mysterious G-Man. You fight through cordoned city streets, filthy barnacle-laden sewers, along septic routes and dams, and even a zombie infested old mining town. Additionally you get to drive to your location in some parts, which brings up an important clue if you're a good critical thinker. You're driving along the coast, checking out piers and docks that are a good ten to twenty feet above above the surface of the water. I didn't notice it at first, but then I thought about how the hell anyone is going to get in or out of a boat which is floating 20 feet below them? It begs some thought.

The fact that I didn't have to stop and think about it was actually a property of the new game play "feel." I guess that due to the fact that computing resources were less limited (or something, I realize how flawed that statement is), the developers were able to cram more stuff into maps. It wasn't an obligation to explore every little nook and/or cranny. Along Highway 17, you hardly had to stop for anything you couldn't drive around. This can make it an easier or tougher play for you is the thing, so it balances nicely.

Creature design had progressed significantly, but aside from variations to old favorites, the most significant enemy you battle is your own kind. Humans who have turned to "combine" with the Combine, who have apparently been working in the shadows since Half-Life. Xen, your final highland in Half-Life, turned out to merely be a teleportation transfer point for a much bigger problem. Your role in fighting baddies scrolls from random remotely controlled monsters to your own remotely controlled species. It's not as shocking as it should be, but damn if when walking into City 17, I didn't feel a sense of 1984.

Characters actually come to support the meaning of the word in Half-Life 2. Your "spunky" sidekick Alyx is not only a helpful story vehicle, she's genuinely speaking. She peers, looks, smile, raises her eyebrows, and furrows her brow. Arguments between NPCs, while a little corny, were mind-blowing at the time. With a couple of welcome familiar faces, and some unwelcome but powerful allies, you learn very quickly not to try and horribly mutilate everything you come across.

If Half-Life is the greatest game of all time, Half-Life 2 is the greatest sequel of all time. I look heavily forward to a ground shattering Half-Life 3, if VALVe can get it out before they all decide to retire.

-The0

Old computers are called OLD for a reason

My parents have finally decided to get rid of the computer that has been haunting the kitchen since 2002. This thing is so old that new RAM for it costs more than new RAM for YOUR computer. Remember ENIAC? ENIAC should remember this thing. My older brother was trying to get the processor off of the heat sink (so as to put a new one on there) today and somehow or another, he was lacerated very badly on his finger. 5 stitches. It took injury to convince my parents to buy a new machine. Thank god.

Now, I love and respect my parents very dearly, but their computer has not progressed with them and their needs. I'm happy that my older brother (who taught me most of what I know about computers) will be there to help them in their purchase of a new machine. As a way to help illustrate how long they stuck it out with this computer, and in the ghost of Duke Nukem Forever, here is a small list of things that are younger than this electronic abomination.

• The Invasion of Afghanistan
• The lake behind the Three Gorges Dam
• Martha Stewart's insider trading fiasco
• The Beltway Sniper attacks
• The Euro (technically speaking)
• My social life, thanks to that very computer

It's been fun, it's been real. It's been real fun, Kitchen computer. Happy retirement, you murderous box.

-The0

It turns out Nostalgia is Vista-compatible

In my research for the previous post, I came across the Wikipedia article for Sierra Entertainment. As some of us may remember, the original publisher of Half-Life was Sierra, after VALVe was passed up by everyone else, being told their game was "too ambitious." A good move on Sierra's part, but it is a little sad for them as well. VALVe has utterly outgrown them since their humble beginnings.

I had been a big fan of Sierra even before then, however. The games I played before Quake and Ultima were all Sierra games, the old style ones. I'm referring to their "_____ Quest" games. I used to be able to tell you precisely how to get through Space Quest IV. I knew that no matter what code you entered in the time machine, you would go nowhere at first. As an attempt to get back even further into my childhood and gaming habits, I found an abandoned version of my favorite Quest, King's Quest VI: Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow.

The adventures of Prince Alexander of Daventry came back to me with much difficulty, to my surprise. It may have been that I was still reeling from the nostalgia (goodness, it was wonderful to to explore those screens like I had before), but I don't think so. What is takes to beat an old Sierra Quest game was patience, logic, creativity, and an entirely different way of thinking. The game can be beaten in 5 hours, but the first time I played it, 16 years ago, it took me almost 3 months. I kept trying every combination of events until something new happened. I tried and tried, and with some help for the Sierra Hint line (that's how popular their games were. They had their own hot line with hints for EVERY game), I finally had it beaten, and I was so proud that I knew exactly how to put the pieces together. Now, I need a guide in order to even get off the first island. Oh well.

I guess the main thought behind this veneer of words is that it's easy for me to relive key parts of my childhood. I remember the weather of the first summer that Prince Alexander got shoved in the catacombs. I remember late nights with no progress. It was great for me to get back and feel all this again. Thanks for joining me.

-The0

Better Half-Life than no life at all.

In my opinion, many things can retain their grandeur despite their age. Everyone still loves the Mona Lisa, The Godfather is still revered as the best movie ever, and as far as this list is concerned, the Half-Life series raises the bar on all video games. This is a small dissertation on why.

Let’s start with Half-Life (the first one, released in 1998). Half-Life was based on the GoldSrc engine, a heavily modified version of the Quake engine. The graphics were stunning to me, and it utterly taxed my little 233 MHz laptop. I remember the first time I played it. I was a sophomore in high school, and I had just started the storyline of the game in hopes that I might improve my LAN battle strategy, which at the time was pretty much, "run straight forward with guns blazing at everything which moves." This was the first lesson I garnered from Half-Life. NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE SHOT! No sooner had Barney started speaking than I had finished blowing a hole in his skull. It was some comment about the zombies, of which he had just taken care for my ungrateful ass.

Another game-changing moment was when I had to figure out my first “puzzle.” For once I wasn’t just running through corridors shooting everything which moved. This was my second lesson from Half-Life. It’s not all going to be about getting bigger guns for bigger baddies anymore. This time I had to figure out where I was going to go and what I was going to do in order to NOT die. It was like being in Mario brothers all over again. Only this time I got to use quicksaves and quickloads. At any rate, we go onto the best thing of all. The Storytelling.

Storytelling in Half-life was unlike anything I had ever experienced in my limited catalogue of gaming. I had played a couple of the Ultima games, and even played through all of Quake, but to have the story directly delivered to me in play, and not through some text screen or in a hidden manuscript was world-changing for me. In fact, a lot of the tale was lost to me. In order to actually get any of the yarn, you have to infer a lot from your surroundings and environment. This “resonance cascade” had supposedly just happened 48 hours ago, how could they possibly have built specimen examination rooms for the monsters in such short time? Unless? The point I’m making is, I was still just shooting everything. I was murdering, not thinking. As soon as I learned my third lesson, to stop and look around, everything started making more sense. After all, VALVe had made it a point to build (mostly) realistic worlds, who was I to ignore it?

Characters are a bit lackluster at times, but at other times, they are inescapably enigmatic. The G-Man is the only real character with whom you make any lasting contact. His involvement with everything is curious, but never forgotten. One might think he’s calling the shots in everything, others may say he is simply observing. Barney (the security guard) is met time and again, and even killed multiple times. I think Black Mesa may have been a cloning facility in addition to a hypothetical physics think tank. At any rate, the main character, Dr. Gordon Freeman, never speaks but is always central. I like that. You control him, and you can choose to save others or save your own ass. You can progress through the game as fast as you want, making a mad dash to whichever way “Out” is, or you can really explore the map, and find some extra goodies. Dr. Freeman can be a free-running murderer, or a thinking fighter. It is this ambiguity that allows him to have such a strong following. Master Chief is the gaming world’s Chuck Norris, steering a bomb through space on pure baddass alone, as in Halo 2. Dr. Freeman is just a scientist who apparently reads Guns and Ammo magazine and was the right man in the wrong place. That makes all the diffffference, in the world.

Whereas this has gotten to be a very long post, be it resolved that we’ll go ahead and close up here. I'll carry on this babble into HL2 sometime soon, before the end of the month. Which means you’ll probably be reading it in August, 2010.

Oh, in case you need to be warned, this post has spoilers. Figured I'd at least mention it somewhere.

-The0

Wait, what's going on?

This is the update post to which I keep alluding. It will be concise and possibly endearing, but I need to sleep first. It'll be up soon, I promise, but for now, courage.

* * *

05/11/2009

And We're Back! Finally. An update for you all! As of today, it has been a very weird year. Let's start with the job. I was fired from my old place of employment, when they refused to work around my new schedule. It's just as well, I am working more hours for slightly more money, and I am finally getting down the system this place uses. Now, I probably shouldn't have destroyed a bridge for a temp job, but I really hated that last place. Besides, if I can manage to impress the management at this new job, they'll hire me on full time (not that I'm not working almost 40 - 50 hours a week already.) That would even get me benefits, like health insurance and a 401k. That has been the working goal since college. All in all, the job front is good.

I have a roommate now, one of the previously alluded-to cost cutting techniques. This wasn't my choice however. My parents moved my little brother in with me. It's not so bad though, we're getting used to each other, and my costs have been effectively cut in half. Maybe I can finally start cutting down my debts.

The lovely eHarmony match and I are officially dating. She shall remain anonymous still, because I still think it's a good idea to protect her reputation. we have been out on a number of very fun events, and it's a rare occurrence to meet a girl who can handle her drink like I can mine. We went to the Killers concert on the 2nd, and that was a pretty fun show. We're getting along very well.

In summation, things are looking up. I sincerely apologize for not updating as much as I should. I haven't had much about which to write. Next post: a study of Half-Life, the best series of video games ever!

-The0