Follow up

So I'm in WoW. I play a human warlock called Sebahattin on Tichond-whatever. It's the Pacific PVP server. I'll likely end up on several other servers too, as it seems probable my disperate associates will find themselves on differing servers. If you're one of these associates and I'm not playing where you are, send me an email.

Another world to occupy my time

Today World of Warcraft comes out. I had remained aloof from the open beta at first, because I thought avoidance may prove effective in preventing infection. I am, at heart, a product of an education system that advocated abstinence, after all. Still, in the end, Azeroth's siren song drew me in and I was able to play the beta for a week. Of course, as they knew all along, that proved more than enough to insure my subsequent purchase of the retail version.

So, I am now playing World of Warcraft. Great. Freaking great.

Gmail is cool.

Well it is.

Pointless Factoid III

The elephant is the only land mammal that can't jump. Just another reason to love those pachyderms.

Goals

I am on occasion reproached by those above or beside me for my lack of ambition. To be perfectly honest, I am a man of two minds on the subject. It seems, if I may be forgiven the conceit, that through either chance or design I have at my disposal an array of personal abilities well suited to most any challenge I may care to assume. I am reasonably intelligent, possessed with an active imagination, and though perhaps I do not regard them favorably, wit passes often enough for charm so that I have little difficulty with social engagements. Though I am by no means a stunning example of man's physical excellence, nor am I well disposed towards suffering life's little annoyances, and these consist of but the least of my faults, I remain (at least by my own estimation) a person of substantial potential.

With this realization I sometimes think that I should owe it to myself the maintenance of high goals. With sustained effort I can probably find myself atop the scholastic ladder, or at least on one of the upper rungs. It is likely that I could find a profitable method of employment, and I should not be surprised if I managed a number of enviable achievements. These arguments have a certain amount of sway, as I would like to rich and influential, not only for the pleasure they would give in themselves, but also for the singularly unique life they allow. Whether or not I can attain such high status is somewhat unclear, but I am likely only to do so through the expenditure of effort.

On the other side, I feel as though life could hardly be more perfect than that which I am presently inclined to enjoy. School can offer unlimited challenges, and near as many intellectual rewards, but its actual demands are quite modest. I attend only so many classes as necessary, and follow the readings only so long as I am likely to need them. A sack of potatoes could scarcely expend less effort in pursuit of my legal education, and though I impress nobody with my standings, I remain adequately disposed to an honorable scholastic conclusion. This was my attitude in college too, where it served me just as well. That is to say, just as well as it had to.

Through my short life I have come to the conclusion that happiness is predicated on the achievement of goals. Everyone has them, and they range from the grandiose to the humble, and they have as many causes as effects. Some are rational or materialistic. Others are absurd, conceited, or even dangerous. Nevertheless, everyone's got'em, and they are content insofar as they are accomplished. But it seems to me that happiness is a multiple choice question, and so then one may try harder or set the bar lower, and it may be that the result is the same. Whether this is true or not remains, at least to me, unknown, but hopefully the matter will be clear before the choice is irreversable.

Dark Horizons

Well, classes end the day before Thanksgiving, leaving only a few weeks before the beginning of final examinations. This is traditionally a period of great activity for me, as I struggle to make up for the semester I blew playing computer games. To a certain extent, I always feel as though I should have learned my lesson, but the reality is that I need pressure in order to get down to business. I am not a particularly disciplined person, and I find schedules, at least those justified by nothing other than a sense of regimentation, difficult to adhere to. In the absence of urgent and dire consequences, I will typically put off work to the next day. Indeed, most days my school work involves deciding which materials from previous weeks can be put off further, and which require immediate attention.

Still, this process awkward and inefficient though it may be, as seen me through an undergraduate education and a year of law school, so at least it isn't a total failure. Hopefully, I'll skid past another semester.

A New Dawn

I finally managed to see the remade Dawn of the Dead, and I thought I'd write a little something. This will actually round out a trio of recent necromatic viewing experiences, Resident Evil: apocalypse, Shaun of the Dead, and now Dawn of the Dead. I'm happy to say that Dawn isn't the worst of the three, though it is far from the best.

All in all, I thought the movie was an acceptable, and even above average entry into the genre. It's nice to see the zombies given the 21st century adrenaline boost; shuffling corpses really aren't all that scary anymore. Plot wise it was pretty typical, a bunch of normal people trying to survive this unfortunate event. The mall was an interesting setting, and I think the parts of the movie that served as commentary were the most interesting. In particular, I like how they managed to settle into something approaching normal life, but it was an existance tainted at all times by an overriding sense of doom and waste. Sort of what life would be like if a comet or some other astronomical body were on a collision course and we all knew death was inevitable.

There was plenty of action, fighting too, and the people make plenty of zombie movie mistakes, but they are often allowed to get away with it. In particular, splitting up to shut off automatic timers or to check locks, especially when you have enough people to form groups for several tasks, is just silly. Then again, they are probably all under a lot of stress, and they may not be thinking very well.

Clint Eastwood's daughter is in the movie, and she is actually quite attractive. I'd tend to think that dating his kid would be a little scary though. Even if he is now quite old, I wouldn't want to take my chances. If Dirty Harry didn't like how something was going, or I guess if his daughter didn't and he found out, seems like there'd be trouble. I mean, not only could he blow your head off, but I doubt she's a slouch herself. Still, it'd be interesting.

Back to the movie though, I think it is an entertaining way to pass a few hours. If you like zombie flicks or action movies, I'd say Dawn of the Dead is worth a viewing.

Multiple Choice

Well, America has made its choice between someone who can't make up their mind, and someone who can't change it. Now it remains to be seen if we shall end up regretting it. After all, the federal constitution doesn't have our convienent recall provision.

Election Day

Today Americans reaffirm their devotion to democracy by sending half of their population off to decide between bad and worse. I too did my part for the republic, insofar as one vote matters either way, and though it is easy to be cynical about the process I feel better having contributed.

The election will be very close, as everyone is saying, but if I had to guess I'd probably say that the president will be re-elected. This is not a statement of support for him personally or the Republican party as a whole, simply an estimation of what I believe will be the end result. I think that Senator Kerry's recent downturns may have come at a critical point, with little time to correct the course before Election Day.

In the end though, we'll just have to see. There is much hope that the election will be settled today, but even if that is so, the winner will not have recieved a mandate. Clearly, as has now become so often said, we are a 45-45 nation. Still, so long as the losing 45 is willing to wait four years and then try again, things are going to go pretty well.

Dawn of War

So I picked up the new Warhammer 40,000 real time strategy computer game Dawn of War. It's not bad. I'm not exactly the biggest fan of the RTS format. I'll play it, and indeed I've wasted more hours than I'd care to admit on battle.net, but on the whole I think it is actually a pretty shallow genre. RTS games are all about resource management; how you spend your first thousand points, gold, minerals, whatever, will generally decide the whole game. And, in those cases where such expenditures are not decisive, between players of equal skill for instance, the vagaries of micro-management dictate the final outcome. On the whole I suppose it isn't the worst way to wittle life down twenty minutes at a time, but there are certainly better game formats around.

Measured against other RTS types, Dawn of War isn't bad. The graphics are nice, though large battles and certain terrain types can cause some lag, especially on lower-end machines. I play the 40k miniatures game, so the background story is of some interest to me. Dawn of War actually captures the 40k flavor pretty well, and I recommend it to fans of the table top version. The four races have are all fairly equal, though the Eldar are probably the best and the Orks are probably the worst. Leaders are too important though, and they come out too early. It isn't as bad as Warcraft 3 in that regard, but it would've been better if leaders were higher up on the tech tree.

So, if you are a fan of real-time strategy games, or if you're a Warhammer 40,000 player, I recommend you pick up Dawn of War and give it a try. If you're on the Gamespy multi-player thing they have, the LeperColony is always up for a match.

Pointless Factoid II

Did you know that the president is completely immune from civil suits arising as a result of the execution of his official duties? It's true. See Nixon v. Fitzgerald, 457 U.S. 731.

Shuffling By

I saw Shaun of the Dead today, treating a friend to the movie and lunch in exchange for having missed the birthday party. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't expecting much from it. The trailers and TV commercials left me with the impression that it would be similar to those "Scary Movie" or "Another Teen Movie" lampoons, trading on vulgarity and cliche in place of commentary or actual comedy. To most people now, and even more so "comedians," parody seems to require nothing more than profanity and absurd exaggeration.

Shaun of the Dead is more than just a parody of zombie flicks. To be sure, it does that well enough; the movie pokes fun at more than one tenet of the genre, and even at the end manages an amusing aside to the movie 28 Days Later. But amusing as the movie may be on the surface, as nothing more than simple parody, there are a number of unexpected, and still more surprising, engaging, subtexts. Shaun of the Dead is really quite clever, and the more you notice, the more you'll enjoy it. The movie deals with some serious issues; relationships, the banality of modern existence and the search for personal fulfillment, and still more than you could pack into a pretentious art film, yet it still feels fun.

The movie is British, so I couldn't say if the actors were well known there, but I didn't recognize any of the faces. Still, a lack of fame didn't detract from their performances, and I think the cast did a good job. There really wasn't much to recommend the score or the effects, but neither did they detract from the overrall experience. The zombies looked dead enough, and it wasn't that kind of film anyway.

Even if you are not a fan of zombie movies, I recommend Shaun of the Dead. It's funny and clever, but there's real substance underneath. If you find there are parts where you're the only one laughing, don't worry. That means you get it.

Freaks

For some reason I find people who lack earlobes somewhat disturbing. I assume most of you have encountered someone so afflicted, but for those of you who haven't allow me to assure you that it is most distressing.

Resident Advisor

Today I met a friend and we went to go see Resident Evil: apocalypse. Now, despite the near universal lack of anything approaching quality or substance, I cannot but admit a certain affection for the Zombie genre. I'm not really sure what it is that's so attractive, but for the life of me I can't help seeing the walking dead. And, when you throw in Milia Jovovich, well...

Anyway, the chance to see it came up, so I took it. I don't normally go to movies on opening day, but we caught an afternoon show. Not that I think there would be lines for this one or anything, but you never know. Even though we caught the matinee, it was still seven bucks for a ticket. I've noticed a general increase in the price of admission, and we actually went to the more expensive theatre in nearby Union City. I prefer that theatre because it has stadium seating; that is, seats on elevated levels. At a modest 5'5" it takes little to block my view, and to make matters worse I often have the misfortune of sitting behind some rotund NBA reject. An extra fifty cents or even a dollar seems a reasonable price to assure that I'll be seeing the movie and not someone's misshapen rear profile. Unfortunately, in this case, stadium seats simply afforded me an unobstructed view to a dismal offering.

The movie itself is surpassingly dull. Sure, they can make you jump by blaring a sound effect loud enough, but there is no surprise. Rather than concentrate on a meaningful plot, interesting characters, or even novel effects, the RE:A people relied on tired and familiar horror cliches. There is really nothing worth paying attention to at all, save perhaps the delectable trio of female "actresses," and not only are they of interest to but half the audience (give or take), the movie eventually robs them of even that appeal. Or, at least, diminishes it.

Milia plays the invincible hardcore woman warrior with a stiffness indicative of rigor mortis, her few attempts at dead pan humor somewhat less amusing than the emergency broadcast system. She was supposed to have been altered by Umbrella, but you never get the feeling that her flat performance was influenced so much by thespiatic integrity as incompetence. They do show her nude at one point, but it seemed to me an oddly emaciated body. She looked kinda like a skinny man with no shirt.

There was a reporter girl, cute in the way they are all dolled up like that, but aside from that largely unremarkable. Her character has a surprising amount of screen time, and her dialogue if forgettable was nonetheless considerably more interesting than that of nearly anyone else's. As far as the plot goes, she really adds nothing and her sole disnction came in opposing splitting up (though, of corse, they do anyway).

Perhaps the most attractive of the three women was the girl who played Jill Valentine. She was definetly very cute, and her clothing, if somewhat inappropriate for a police officer, left little to the imagination. Unfortunately, she was severly disappointed in the dialogue department. The line "fuck me" featured prominately, and though it was a suggestion not entirely without merit, I think most of us had hit on the idea already by the third or fourth time she said it. As far as the plot goes, Jill was more important than the reporter. Valentine, a member of STARS (Special Tactics and Rescue Squad) was supposed to be integral to their escape efforts, though she's the one who decides the group should split up. She also has to deal with that most predictable of problems, a friend infected with the zombie virus. All in all, a shallow and unremarkable performance, but one of the better ones probably at that.

Aside from dismal main characters, the movie has all the other shortcomings you'd expect. An unrealistic plot, a supposedly organized and well equipped military losing to shuffling corpses limited to the speed of crippled slugs, a dumb monster boyfriend for Milia, a heartless and mindlessly evil corporation, and an over reliance on so-so effects and predictable jokes. The comic foil, this time a loud mouthed taxi driver, is once again a high point, and this type of character is quickly becoming a saving grace for these kinds of movies. Even so, they are certainly incapable of carrying the movie on their own, though fortunately none of them have been expected to.

So, all that being said, take my advice. Skip a second trip to Racoon City.

Champion of Troy

As I was getting ready for class, I was watching the Missouri v. Troy football game on ESPN. Missouri was a nationally ranked team, and Troy was supposed to be something of a pushover. The underdogs eventually win though, just going to show that you can't ever count anyone down in that game.

I didn't have any particular stake in the game, it was just on as background noise. For the most part, I wasn't even really paying any attention to it. But just as I was getting ready to leave, I saw the most remarkable play. Troy was down by seven points and they had the ball. The offense ran a draw play (a hand-off to the running back, who runs straight up the field) and the running back managed to get about ten yards. Ordinarily that'd impressive, but hardly noteworthy. This time, as he was about to be tackled, the running back pitched the ball to a nearby lineman, number seventy-nine, Junior Louissaint. Big fatty took the ball and rumbled fifty yards to the endzone. The only defender who even got a hand on him was a spindly cornerback, who Junior dragged into the endzone. It was quite a sight to see, funny and impressive too, and it's always nice when linemen get a minute in the spotlight.

So here's to you, Junior Louissaint. Good job.

Conquest

Well, it's Labor Day here in the States. Three day weekends are always precious, but some of them are better than others, because some of them play host to gaming conventions. That's right, just in case it wasn't clear just how much of a geek I really am, I attend local gaming conventions. I'd visit the bigger ones back east too, if I could afford it. For those of you who have never seen one, a gaming convention is pretty much what you'd expect it to be. For four days a veritable swarm of nerds descend on a hapless hotel. Four days of hit points and armor class, where the fate of entire worlds hangs on the slender sides of dodecahedrons.

For those of us who have been going for a while, conventions are as much social occasions as gaming opportunities, if not more so. The intense atmosphere of the convention, and the fact that you are likely to be stuck with a particular group of people for several hours at a time prove efficient bonding situations. The "con buddy" is a peculiar sort of relationship. Such associations do not really rise to the dignity of a true friendship, but they are unusually strong given the brevity of interaction.

When you sign up for a con game, you can usually count on a good time. If you're lucky, you get a neat story from it. And if you're really lucky, you meet someone worth playing something else with. That's a con buddy. These people I see but two or three times a year, and it is only for the better part of four days at that, but shared experiences and common interests work swiftly to create a familiarity out of all expectations.

This year at Conquest I managed to play several games, including a few I usually miss for one reason or another. Listed below was my weekend itinerary, as well as my record:

Friday: Game Mastered a Dungeons and Dragons game. If you run a game at a convention, you get in for free. As a weekend pass will run about thirty bucks, it makes sense to run an event.

Saturday: I played Attack!, a board game made by Eagle Games. It's a pre-WWII game with many simularities to Risk, but you play a government type rather than a faceless empire. All in all it wasn't bad, but I didn't find the system particularly impressive. It was my first time playing, but I managed to spread the enlightened influence of Communism across the globe.

I also got to play jumbo sized Battletech. The people at Armorcast make giant sized mechs. They run this event at just about every local con every year, but somehow something always gets in my way. This time I got to play, and it was a blast. I had to play the Inner Sphere, which is made up of primitive warlords, and I had to resist the Clans, technologically sophisticated invaders. Still, thanks to my dazzling tactical genius, and awesome dice rolls (but mostly genius), I managed to win. Props to my erstwhile partner and my worthy opponent.

Sunday: Played Man O' War, an old Games Workshop product detailing age-of-sail naval combat with fantasy races. I played Chaos and the Chaos Dwarves (I know, but the fleets were pre-made) against Empire and Dwarves. Dominate is an insufficient verb to describe my victory.

I also played Paths of Glory twice. PoG is a GMT wargame simulating WWI. Unlike many wargames, PoG is fast and simple, using cards rather a library of rules to dictate the flow of play. I lost once as the Allies, and I won once as the Central Powers.

Monday: Didn't show at all. If I'm not staying at the hotel, I usually skip Monday. There aren't hardly an events, and most everyone has already gone home anyway, looking to recover in time for work on Tuesday. This year I had a cold most of the weekend, so I got some much needed rest. Missed a kublacon staff meeting though.

Well, that was my three day weekend, spent in the midst of geekdom. A good time had by all.

Pointless Factoid

Having nothing of particular interest to relate, I thought I'd communicate a pointless factoid. I figure this could become a regular practice, to supply an entry for those days when I feel like making one, but don't want to put too much effort into it. So, here goes.

Did you know that Number 10 Downing Street is actually the residence of the First Lord of the Treasury and not the Prime Minister? In fact, the Prime Minister derives both his salary and his official residence from the office of the First Lord of the Treasury.

This useless bit of information, and plenty more, are all available free of charge at wikipedia, the online encyclopedia.

Breakfast of Champions

I've been told there is a "Chicken and Waffle" place in Jack London Square. Apparently, it is the custom in some places of the United States to pair fried chicken and waffles together. You're supposed to match, or at least quickly follow the taste of one to the other, and the result is supposed to be less repellant than it sounds. Somehow.

When it comes to food, I'm a little picky. Selection isn't really the problem, I can eat a range of foods, wider than many Americans because of my early exposure to certain anatomical or marine combinations peculiar to Asian cuisine. Nor is quality that great a concern. I can subsist on a thin ration of ramen, potato chips, and vanilla coke almost indefinetly. However, I am extremely sensative to proper culinary organization. Like the drill seargent in Toys, I like my different dishes to remain seperate, and I tend to eat my food in sequence, completing all I desire from one before moving onto the other.

If invited, I'll probably end up going just for the hell of it. I'd never even heard of a Chicken and Waffle place, but it was discussed as though they were common. Disgusting as the prospect of this unholy breakfast is, I think it's something I'd have to see, if I got the chance.

Wrong exit off the information superhighway

Sometimes in the course of websurfing you find what you're looking for. Sometimes you don't. A while ago I stumbled across this site, but as I didn't have a blog at the time, I didn't have a forum to share it. Now, for better or worse, I do. Click away, sanity optional.

And yes, I've read the whole thing.

Words to live by

To mourn a mischief that is past and gone
Is the next way to draw new mischief on.
What cannot be preserved when fortune takes
Patience her injury a mockery makes.

Othello, Act I, Scene III

I am surrounded, it seems, by an inordinate number of hot heads. These are people for whom the word trivial never precedes conflict. They make mountains of mole hills, then claim the credit for mastering so marvelous a summit. Failure only enlarges an obstacle to the point where even the smallest of obstructions can threaten to derail critical endeavors. Pride becomes an end in of itself, an all-consuming concern made all the more implaccable with its divorce from reason.

I myself am, of course, not free from such sentiments, but I take it as a tenant of proper living that they lead only to ruin. Annoyance I find rises within me easily, but it departs just as freely. I am rarely moved to true anger, and to my credit I find the feeling difficult to abide. In the end, I just don't feel there's much worth getting so worked up over.