Here's an interesting blog, Misfortune Cookie. The young lady's insights are quite fun, well defined and interesting. I can't say that I agree with all she has to say all the time - I may play a retort off her "10 movies I'm supposed to like..." entry for that very reason - but I appreciate her style and her preferred subject.
Here are a few notable entries in her blog:
1. "Honoring the year's funniest in film" - Article
2. "Actual ridiculous things customers have said at work" - Humor
3. The decline of the strong female character - and 10 ladies who defy the trend - Essay
4. Five lost classics worth checking out - Article: I find this one of particular note, because I recently watched Ace in the Hole (1951) and absolutely share her every sentiment. This film, as it stands, should be required viewing for any journalist.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Monday, December 24, 2007
This was fun...
...
 | I received 93 credits on The Sci Fi Sounds Quiz How much of a Sci-Fi geek are you? |
| Take the Sci-Fi Movie Quiz canon s5 is | |
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Parenting
Carrie Friedman is annoyed by questions of parenting.
I don't know Carrie Friedman, nor do I know much about her life. I only know what she's shared in her article. The commentary associated with this article is fascinating, however. Far too many people seem to overlook the possibility that the author is offended by the intrusions upon her privacy evidenced by the behavior of so many people.
I have, on numerous occassions herein, spoken out against unruly parents and their children. However, I see this article less an indictment of parents and more of intrusion. A person's choices are theirs and no one else's. I was taught to believe strongly in this and was taught to respect the privacy of others.
I simply don't ask questions about others' personal lives. I'm thrilled when my friends trust me enough to confide in me, but would never dare to solicit their confidence. Such is not a relationship of trust.
For those reasons it infuriates me when people fail to reciprocate.
I don't know Carrie Friedman, nor do I know much about her life. I only know what she's shared in her article. The commentary associated with this article is fascinating, however. Far too many people seem to overlook the possibility that the author is offended by the intrusions upon her privacy evidenced by the behavior of so many people.
I have, on numerous occassions herein, spoken out against unruly parents and their children. However, I see this article less an indictment of parents and more of intrusion. A person's choices are theirs and no one else's. I was taught to believe strongly in this and was taught to respect the privacy of others.
I simply don't ask questions about others' personal lives. I'm thrilled when my friends trust me enough to confide in me, but would never dare to solicit their confidence. Such is not a relationship of trust.
For those reasons it infuriates me when people fail to reciprocate.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
It takes a special kind of stupid...
...to interrupt the most important two minutes of the 90 minute M$ presentation. Way to go G4TV. That was brilliant.
FAIL.
*****
And tomorrow I preorder my Halo 3 XBox. Glad I didn't get an Elite.
FAIL.
*****
And tomorrow I preorder my Halo 3 XBox. Glad I didn't get an Elite.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Microsft am Boring | G4TV = Fail
I've never really cared much for G4TV. It's turned video gaming into a pathetic pop culture phenomenon similar to the tripe of MTv. A network which so utterly fails to deliver on its purpose that I haven't even looked at its listings in years.
That G4TV:
1. Failed to secure funds from M$ to air this presentation without interruption...
2. Interrupted several amazing presentations...
is just further proof of how useless this network is.
As for Microsoft: Ok, so E3 is restricted again and unpolluted by fans, meaning you are presenting dull industry fact to dull industry members. But, come on, a talking head? You couldn't do better than this dullard presenting Madden '08?
To top it all off, none of the content that G4 has seen fit to air uninterrupted is new. Wow. Golden Axe. Yay Tetris.
Thirty six minutes of fail, so far.
That G4TV:
1. Failed to secure funds from M$ to air this presentation without interruption...
2. Interrupted several amazing presentations...
is just further proof of how useless this network is.
As for Microsoft: Ok, so E3 is restricted again and unpolluted by fans, meaning you are presenting dull industry fact to dull industry members. But, come on, a talking head? You couldn't do better than this dullard presenting Madden '08?
To top it all off, none of the content that G4 has seen fit to air uninterrupted is new. Wow. Golden Axe. Yay Tetris.
Thirty six minutes of fail, so far.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Enough is Enough Already
It's time for the networks to remove the monster's face from above the fold and their home pages. They're playing right into his hand.
Boycott them if you can. Please?
The following reach far beyond the trivialities of the networks and deserve your attention more than "...the multimedia manifesto..."
1. Please read MB's tribute to Professor Liviu Librescu, if you haven't.
2. Please read Chez's tribute to Maxine Turner, if you haven't.
They're both far better writers than I could ever hope to be. They each said what I've struggled to say since Tuesday morning.
When you're done, read MB's House Hunting Post, laughter is the best medicine.
Boycott them if you can. Please?
The following reach far beyond the trivialities of the networks and deserve your attention more than "...the multimedia manifesto..."
1. Please read MB's tribute to Professor Liviu Librescu, if you haven't.
2. Please read Chez's tribute to Maxine Turner, if you haven't.
They're both far better writers than I could ever hope to be. They each said what I've struggled to say since Tuesday morning.
When you're done, read MB's House Hunting Post, laughter is the best medicine.
Friday, January 05, 2007
This is great stuff
I really don't need to say anything, all I need to do is send a link out to this blog entry:
2006: Year of the Douchebag (The Complete List)
2006: Year of the Douchebag (The Complete List)
Friday, November 03, 2006
Inorganic Sentients Circling the Planet
Before I rant, I'd like to discuss something cool. A couple of the folks who join us at Comic Con, each year, have opened their own business online. Commanderbot makes and sells very loud geektacular button up shirts at http://www.robotsinorbit.com. She and Designbot have a blog, where they've been discussing design and implementation of the store. I can't imagine what they'll be posting in the future, but it's kinda fun to read at http://robotsinorbit.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
It's Time To Wake Up, Parents
In the wake of the recent school shootings and a manhunt in Florida, is this article really the best we can do?
What good is this article doing us?
1. I don't notice any point where the journalist offered suggestions to fix the problem. He just points out what should have been painfully obvious the first time a revenge killing was committed.
2. This journalist is doing little else than stating what should be more than obvious to anyone.
ugh
I have too much contempt for this article and am just, in general, too frustrated to even consider the matter further. I don't even have kids.
What good is this article doing us?
1. I don't notice any point where the journalist offered suggestions to fix the problem. He just points out what should have been painfully obvious the first time a revenge killing was committed.
2. This journalist is doing little else than stating what should be more than obvious to anyone.
ugh
I have too much contempt for this article and am just, in general, too frustrated to even consider the matter further. I don't even have kids.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Downtime
Another week in lovely Wilmington, DE, has come to an end for me. I remember when air travel was an exciting novelty (have I said this before?). The prospect of "getting to fly" was wrought with excitement. The night before a flight was spent barely sleeping in anticipation.
By this point in my career, however, it has become complete and utter tedium. I wake up at the last minute. I curse the early hour. I struggle across town to the airport. I select seats on the aisle to avoid being crammed into a wall. I remain wholly anti-social until the entire affair has come to an end.
Prior to this trip, I purchased a set of Ultimate Ear super.fi 3 earbuds to drown out all the noise in the fuselage. I have to say, they were great. Usually, after I travel, I've a headache from the drone of the engines, constant chatter and wails of obnoxious children. On neither Monday, nor Friday, this week, did I feel the audible effects of the flights. I even had the misfortune of being seated amid a number of noisy children on both my return flights. The Ulimtate Ear kit paid off in spades, as I didn't hear a single bit of their tedious and excessive youthful nonsense. I highly recommend these suckers to anyone else who struggles to successfully drown out the background noises of a plane.
In the Philadelphia airport, yesterday, I purchased a copy of Flags of our Fathers. It's an interesting history of the six men photographed raising the flag atop Mount Suribachi in 1945. A compelling story, albeit clumsily written. I've consumed about fifty-percent of the book and have enjoyed the portrait painted within. The selection is timely, as a film will be released, later this year, based on the novel. The trailer seems as clumsy as the novel, though. I believe I'll have to do more research into the matter before choosing to see the film.
Enough rambling for the evening...
SQL> Select Rain From Forecast Where Thunderstorm = True;
By this point in my career, however, it has become complete and utter tedium. I wake up at the last minute. I curse the early hour. I struggle across town to the airport. I select seats on the aisle to avoid being crammed into a wall. I remain wholly anti-social until the entire affair has come to an end.
Prior to this trip, I purchased a set of Ultimate Ear super.fi 3 earbuds to drown out all the noise in the fuselage. I have to say, they were great. Usually, after I travel, I've a headache from the drone of the engines, constant chatter and wails of obnoxious children. On neither Monday, nor Friday, this week, did I feel the audible effects of the flights. I even had the misfortune of being seated amid a number of noisy children on both my return flights. The Ulimtate Ear kit paid off in spades, as I didn't hear a single bit of their tedious and excessive youthful nonsense. I highly recommend these suckers to anyone else who struggles to successfully drown out the background noises of a plane.
In the Philadelphia airport, yesterday, I purchased a copy of Flags of our Fathers. It's an interesting history of the six men photographed raising the flag atop Mount Suribachi in 1945. A compelling story, albeit clumsily written. I've consumed about fifty-percent of the book and have enjoyed the portrait painted within. The selection is timely, as a film will be released, later this year, based on the novel. The trailer seems as clumsy as the novel, though. I believe I'll have to do more research into the matter before choosing to see the film.
Enough rambling for the evening...
SQL> Select Rain From Forecast Where Thunderstorm = True;
Thursday, September 14, 2006
I need a bigger, uglier rock, please...
...I hate AS400...
Really. This dinosour just won't go away. Nor will the crotchety codgers who still specialize in it. They cringe at the thought of a relational database. They scurry off when the light of object-oriented development shines above them.
The most efficient tool available to me for retrieving data from this piece of hagis is the AS400 query tool. Which cannot span logic. Ugh. I really want to look at something else for a while.
SQL> Delete From tbl_Systems Where Functionality = 'Obsolete';
Really. This dinosour just won't go away. Nor will the crotchety codgers who still specialize in it. They cringe at the thought of a relational database. They scurry off when the light of object-oriented development shines above them.
The most efficient tool available to me for retrieving data from this piece of hagis is the AS400 query tool. Which cannot span logic. Ugh. I really want to look at something else for a while.
SQL> Delete From tbl_Systems Where Functionality = 'Obsolete';
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
IH-10 East, Just Before the Huebner Road Overpass
This incorrect statement was read on the radio:
"...and in national news, a small commuter plane has crashed into the World Trade Center..."
I was lazily making my way to the office, only a couple of miles away. I wasn't exiting Fredericksburg, because we'd been moved off the main campus two years prior. I had just moved into a new apartment and ten days earlier interviewed for a position with my current employer.
That was my life in a flash. Rather insignificant, as I reconsider the thoughts I had on that morning.
"A small commuter plane? That doesn't sound right. This is it. This is the one. They've tried so hard for the last ten years."
I started racing through the available radio stations looking for something more accurate. Something more complete. I found nothing.
I think I sped up a little bit, drifting above the speed limit. I exited for Medical Drive and slipped past the final two blocks leading to my office building.
I was on edge, waiting to hear how my interview had gone. I tried to make the reality of my life more important than the news on the radio. I hoped the synopsis I'd heard was correct. I tried to make my life bigger than that reality.
I sat down at my desk and went through my morning login routine.
I started an internet browser and proceeded directly to CNN.com, looking for more information.
I couldn't access the website. There was too much traffic on the site.
It wasn't a small commuter plane, I thought.
Where is the rest of my unit?
I typed in the URL for a local news station. It was inaccessible.
Local news was unavailable?
Where is the rest of my unit? Why is the floor so still, so quiet?
I looked at my phone, hoping the red light would be on. Wishing for a voicemail from the individuals who had interviewed me. I was still trying to go on with my life. I was sitll hoping what I'd heard on the radio was right.
By the time I typed in the URL for MSNBC.com, noise had begun to return to the floor. But not the sound of agents answering calls from customers. Nor the sound of collectors making outbound calls. This was something else.
And there it was. Right in front of my eyes on MSNBC.com. One of the buildings already smoldering. The other demonstrating the first signs of a conflagration.
I have spent something on the order of thirty minutes, so far, typing this entry. Seventeen minutes elapsed between the first collision and the second. Twenty, maybe twenty five minutes passed for me. The time it took to find and identify the news. Twenty five precious minutes to someone on the third floor. Or the tenth.
Twenty five interminable minutes in which someone above the impacts realized there was no escape.
Twenty four minutes longer than someone aboard the first plane had to consider their situation.
Eight minutes more than someone aboard the second plane.
Time for me had become objective. Get out, I thought. But, how? There's no time.
Are there more?
I went to the breakroom. Televisions in the breakroom were always running CNN.
There was hardly space in a room meant for about 75 people.
It was real. This was happening. There it was, on a live feed. No speculation.
I watched for a few minutes. Until I could no longer deny my own responsibilities. I went back to my desk.
News floated in from the breakroom. The Pentagon. Another plane crash. Each tower fell.
I saw the first collapse, live. I remember that. I had drifted away from my tasks again to see what was happening on the news. It happened. How many people were in that building? How much time do the people in the second building have?
Borrowed time. Everyone who escaped lived on borrowed time.
I can't imagine how horrible it is to realize that. I've never lived on borrowed time.
My life went on. A week to the day later, I received the call: "We would like to offer you a position." I turned in my resignation. I started my new job.
Every moment. The entire sequence of September 11, 2001 became a blur for me.
I didn't forget.
But I don't remember enough.
I don't remember frequently.
"...and in national news, a small commuter plane has crashed into the World Trade Center..."
I was lazily making my way to the office, only a couple of miles away. I wasn't exiting Fredericksburg, because we'd been moved off the main campus two years prior. I had just moved into a new apartment and ten days earlier interviewed for a position with my current employer.
That was my life in a flash. Rather insignificant, as I reconsider the thoughts I had on that morning.
"A small commuter plane? That doesn't sound right. This is it. This is the one. They've tried so hard for the last ten years."
I started racing through the available radio stations looking for something more accurate. Something more complete. I found nothing.
I think I sped up a little bit, drifting above the speed limit. I exited for Medical Drive and slipped past the final two blocks leading to my office building.
I was on edge, waiting to hear how my interview had gone. I tried to make the reality of my life more important than the news on the radio. I hoped the synopsis I'd heard was correct. I tried to make my life bigger than that reality.
I sat down at my desk and went through my morning login routine.
I started an internet browser and proceeded directly to CNN.com, looking for more information.
I couldn't access the website. There was too much traffic on the site.
It wasn't a small commuter plane, I thought.
Where is the rest of my unit?
I typed in the URL for a local news station. It was inaccessible.
Local news was unavailable?
Where is the rest of my unit? Why is the floor so still, so quiet?
I looked at my phone, hoping the red light would be on. Wishing for a voicemail from the individuals who had interviewed me. I was still trying to go on with my life. I was sitll hoping what I'd heard on the radio was right.
By the time I typed in the URL for MSNBC.com, noise had begun to return to the floor. But not the sound of agents answering calls from customers. Nor the sound of collectors making outbound calls. This was something else.
And there it was. Right in front of my eyes on MSNBC.com. One of the buildings already smoldering. The other demonstrating the first signs of a conflagration.
I have spent something on the order of thirty minutes, so far, typing this entry. Seventeen minutes elapsed between the first collision and the second. Twenty, maybe twenty five minutes passed for me. The time it took to find and identify the news. Twenty five precious minutes to someone on the third floor. Or the tenth.
Twenty five interminable minutes in which someone above the impacts realized there was no escape.
Twenty four minutes longer than someone aboard the first plane had to consider their situation.
Eight minutes more than someone aboard the second plane.
Time for me had become objective. Get out, I thought. But, how? There's no time.
Are there more?
I went to the breakroom. Televisions in the breakroom were always running CNN.
There was hardly space in a room meant for about 75 people.
It was real. This was happening. There it was, on a live feed. No speculation.
I watched for a few minutes. Until I could no longer deny my own responsibilities. I went back to my desk.
News floated in from the breakroom. The Pentagon. Another plane crash. Each tower fell.
I saw the first collapse, live. I remember that. I had drifted away from my tasks again to see what was happening on the news. It happened. How many people were in that building? How much time do the people in the second building have?
Borrowed time. Everyone who escaped lived on borrowed time.
I can't imagine how horrible it is to realize that. I've never lived on borrowed time.
My life went on. A week to the day later, I received the call: "We would like to offer you a position." I turned in my resignation. I started my new job.
Every moment. The entire sequence of September 11, 2001 became a blur for me.
I didn't forget.
But I don't remember enough.
I don't remember frequently.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Thank you...
... to all the hard working public servants that protect us on a daily basis. We shouldn't need a day to say thanks, you should always be in our thoughts. Alas, such is not the case.
Please keep up your hard work.
Please keep up your hard work.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
That whole airline thing
So, here's an opinion from a journalist that seems to echo my feelings from "The Great England Conspiracy".
This particular segment cracks me up:
All kinds of dangerous chemicals can be traced to the power supplies in those devices and the batteries kept on hand for them. To say nothing of the devices' inherent ability to activate such a cobbled together weapon.
But the screeners made certain the kids couldn't drink their Hi-C. Awesome. Just freakin' brilliant.
This particular segment cracks me up:
As Nadeau points out in an e-mail, her family’s two carry-on bags had enough electronics in them to wire a missile: “a laptop, a portable DVD player, a sound-blaster adapter and headphones, two cell phones, four MP3 players with headphones, a BlackBerry, a brick of AA batteries and two hand-held video games.” The security woman paid them no attention. “She dug around the electronics, searching for juice. About three other moms nearby were going through the same harassment…”
All kinds of dangerous chemicals can be traced to the power supplies in those devices and the batteries kept on hand for them. To say nothing of the devices' inherent ability to activate such a cobbled together weapon.
But the screeners made certain the kids couldn't drink their Hi-C. Awesome. Just freakin' brilliant.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Why doesn't this surprise me?
This article, posted at The Register doesn't really surprise me.
I wonder how quickly we'll discover that this effort was a deliberate feint?
I wonder how quickly we'll discover that this effort was a deliberate feint?
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
I'm not tired of your brats...
... I'm tired of you.
This is outrageous:
Growing Up Healthy: No Brats Allowed. Your children are your responsibility, not mine. I do not profess to be the greatest lover of children, quite the opposite, they confuse and frighten me. However, I'm respectful of their rights in this world, when they're respectful of mine.
For example, if I enter a store called "Pottery Barn, Kids", I expect it to be filled with children, their parents and the accompanying noise. However, if I go to an R-Rated film at 11:30pm on a weeknight, I do not believe I should have to tolerate shouting, crying children. I deliberately go to movies at that time specifically to avoid the children. They're entitled to visit the theater all day long and enjoy their experience. Just as I'm entitled to enjoy my experience. Seeing as they're the majority in entertainment cases, I attempt to mitigate the situation as much as possible.
The problem here isn't the children themselves. The problem is the self absorbed adults who pay no attention to their children. I cannot describe the number of times, at a restaurant, I have watched a mother ignore her infant while it wailed and struggled to feed itself. What the hell are you thinking? This is a child, here, it cannot do for itself, that is why humans tend to their children for years and years. Or did you miss that part of growing up?
I am so annoyed by this attitude that it's difficult to formulate coherent thoughts on the matter.
Simply put: The nasty, filthy, dirty, disgusting individual who keeps leaving their infant's dirty diapers in or around the parking spaces I use at the office proves this point to me more than I can document here.
This is outrageous:
Growing Up Healthy: No Brats Allowed. Your children are your responsibility, not mine. I do not profess to be the greatest lover of children, quite the opposite, they confuse and frighten me. However, I'm respectful of their rights in this world, when they're respectful of mine.
For example, if I enter a store called "Pottery Barn, Kids", I expect it to be filled with children, their parents and the accompanying noise. However, if I go to an R-Rated film at 11:30pm on a weeknight, I do not believe I should have to tolerate shouting, crying children. I deliberately go to movies at that time specifically to avoid the children. They're entitled to visit the theater all day long and enjoy their experience. Just as I'm entitled to enjoy my experience. Seeing as they're the majority in entertainment cases, I attempt to mitigate the situation as much as possible.
The problem here isn't the children themselves. The problem is the self absorbed adults who pay no attention to their children. I cannot describe the number of times, at a restaurant, I have watched a mother ignore her infant while it wailed and struggled to feed itself. What the hell are you thinking? This is a child, here, it cannot do for itself, that is why humans tend to their children for years and years. Or did you miss that part of growing up?
I am so annoyed by this attitude that it's difficult to formulate coherent thoughts on the matter.
Simply put: The nasty, filthy, dirty, disgusting individual who keeps leaving their infant's dirty diapers in or around the parking spaces I use at the office proves this point to me more than I can document here.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Treating Fellow Gamers Like Grownups
The folks over at Tied The Leader were good enough to respond to my conundrum. Some of the community is speaking up, in responses, about their own experiences with deleveling (either doing it themselves or witnessing it).
I find some of the delevelers' reason thin:
A) "I delevel to help my friends gain experience."
B) "I delevel to gain a deceitful edge."
What?
(A)
Last time I checked, one could still bring a friend along, in a party, to any matchmade game. I've brought my brother along to my matchmaking sessions and he's currently only level 1. This makes no sense to me. All I can imagine is that these folks are trying to make themselves feel better in some form or fashion. I think they're pretty weird.
(B)
Am I the only one who thinks that's lame? I mean, who the hell remembers which player is what level in the middle of a firefight? All I deal with, when the game starts, is "That player's not the same color as me. I must prevent him from achieving his objective."
I don't think I'll ever understand these mentalities. Just like I'll never understand the hateful yelling and insults that fly around online gaming communities. It doesn't really seem to solve anything and it all seems childish.
Maybe I'm just too old to be cool. I don't know.
SQL> Create Table PlayersToIgnore As Select GamerTag From Delevelers;
I find some of the delevelers' reason thin:
A) "I delevel to help my friends gain experience."
B) "I delevel to gain a deceitful edge."
What?
(A)
Last time I checked, one could still bring a friend along, in a party, to any matchmade game. I've brought my brother along to my matchmaking sessions and he's currently only level 1. This makes no sense to me. All I can imagine is that these folks are trying to make themselves feel better in some form or fashion. I think they're pretty weird.
(B)
Am I the only one who thinks that's lame? I mean, who the hell remembers which player is what level in the middle of a firefight? All I deal with, when the game starts, is "That player's not the same color as me. I must prevent him from achieving his objective."
I don't think I'll ever understand these mentalities. Just like I'll never understand the hateful yelling and insults that fly around online gaming communities. It doesn't really seem to solve anything and it all seems childish.
Maybe I'm just too old to be cool. I don't know.
SQL> Create Table PlayersToIgnore As Select GamerTag From Delevelers;
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
XBox Live
My brother finally beefed up his XBox 360, by signing up for XBox Live. Unfortunately, during his initial days on the service my ISP was uncooperative (this is the most polite description I've applied to my frustration with RoadRunner over the situation). A technician finally heeded my opinions, last weekend, and corrected the error. A sturdy broadband connection means I can now slaughter my brother in Halo 2 to my heart's content.
Last night I played for a while in general MatchMaking, trying to better myself (I'm getting slaughtered in the level 12-16 range, which probably means I'll permanently reside there) before he got home from work. During that time I encountered on of the single most bizarre situations I've ever seen in online ranked gaming:
Someone purposely trying to decrease his skill level. Austensibly so he could gloat about defeating players at lower levels.
I don't get that. I don't know if it's very common, but it's bizarre, to say the least. Are there genuinely people in the world with such low self esteem that they must reverse engineer cheating so that they can make themselves feel better?
Isn't winning honestly a better rush than this?
Ugh.
That being said, I did have a great time playing against my brother and his coworker, Station. Yes, that would be Station of Station's Creation. I even got his copy of the Halo Graphic Novel autographed to Station. I'm so clever.
Neither of them play Halo 2 as much as I, so bragging about how well I did would be wrong. However, I do feel that I held my own pretty darn well against them. My brother typically embarasses me when we play Halo 2 split screened at our mother's house. I attribute the discrepency to his Controller-S units and the smaller screen, which I have trouble seeing. It's sounded like BS whining until he got on Live and I can play against him under the conditions to which I'm accustomed. That is, my old-school XBox controllers and my big screen TV. Now, I feel vindicated against him and his buddy.
I'm hoping he continues to dabble in Halo 2, from time to time, because I'd really like to learn to play freakin' CTF on Live. I simply suck at this type of play. I can do a decent job in team games lacking objective based play. But, man, for someone as objective oriented as I am, for the most part, I just can't cut the mustard in CTF or Bomb games.
SQL> Select Halo2_Stats From Bungie.net Where GamerTag_Link = 'Lit';
Last night I played for a while in general MatchMaking, trying to better myself (I'm getting slaughtered in the level 12-16 range, which probably means I'll permanently reside there) before he got home from work. During that time I encountered on of the single most bizarre situations I've ever seen in online ranked gaming:
Someone purposely trying to decrease his skill level. Austensibly so he could gloat about defeating players at lower levels.
I don't get that. I don't know if it's very common, but it's bizarre, to say the least. Are there genuinely people in the world with such low self esteem that they must reverse engineer cheating so that they can make themselves feel better?
Isn't winning honestly a better rush than this?
Ugh.
That being said, I did have a great time playing against my brother and his coworker, Station. Yes, that would be Station of Station's Creation. I even got his copy of the Halo Graphic Novel autographed to Station. I'm so clever.
Neither of them play Halo 2 as much as I, so bragging about how well I did would be wrong. However, I do feel that I held my own pretty darn well against them. My brother typically embarasses me when we play Halo 2 split screened at our mother's house. I attribute the discrepency to his Controller-S units and the smaller screen, which I have trouble seeing. It's sounded like BS whining until he got on Live and I can play against him under the conditions to which I'm accustomed. That is, my old-school XBox controllers and my big screen TV. Now, I feel vindicated against him and his buddy.
I'm hoping he continues to dabble in Halo 2, from time to time, because I'd really like to learn to play freakin' CTF on Live. I simply suck at this type of play. I can do a decent job in team games lacking objective based play. But, man, for someone as objective oriented as I am, for the most part, I just can't cut the mustard in CTF or Bomb games.
SQL> Select Halo2_Stats From Bungie.net Where GamerTag_Link = 'Lit';
Monday, July 24, 2006
Comic Con 2006 is officially in the can...
...And what a Con it was, this year.
Saturday, as has become the norm, was absolutely dreadful on the dealer floor. Too many people. Too little space. Too many shiny things attracting attention. And that doesn't include the scantily clad has-been Bunnies or Adult Stars.
Panels became insane on Saturday. I actually sat through a panel about The 4400, just so I could endure the most dreadful [adult swim] panel I've seen in five visits to the Con. Having said that, I'm seriously considering emailing the following to [adult swim]:
To whom it may concern,
I would like to thank Dino Stamatopoulos for singlehandedly ruining Comic Con International 2006's [adult swim] panel. Mr. Stamatopoulos's contempt for his fans first became apparent when he attempted to consume alcohol during the panel. He further made his disregard for the audience obvious when he advised us he was already inebriated. It seemed, however, that he felt his distaste for his audience and fans was not clear. Thus, he employed a strategy of insulting the audience and his peers, while pouting. All this to garner attention.
I find it commendable that [adult swim] has such unyielding patience for such an arrogant "artist" (used loosely) who has no interest in his public. You should be proud of your support for this untalented hack who dislikes his own work and his audience.
I look forward to ignoring his work as much as possible.
Sincerely,
The Undersigned
Such sentiment shouldn't be necessary. Panelists attend Comic Con voluntarily, for the most part. Individuals, such as Seth Green, really seem to enjoy the event. They like their fans and enjoy giving and receiving input on panels of this nature. Those of us who attend a panel to hear from a specific person are polite and friendly to the individuals with whom we are not familiar. It seems only fair that the panelists return the favor.
To appear inebriated is insulting to the fans. Not because I think drinking is wrong. Rather, because I believe it is disruptive and rude. Both to one's peers and to the fans.
I'm sure any sentiment I share with [adult swim] will have little or no effect on this guy. But I'll feel better, having shared my opinion on the matter.
Sunday was, as usual, pretty slow. The dealer floor was easier to navigate, but sparsely populated by dealers and their wares. I attended three panels:
1. The Tick (on DVD August 29th)
2. Cartoon Voices II
3. Robot Rumble 2006 (Crow and Tom Servo of MST3K fame arose victorious, over the likes of V.I.K.I, from Small Wonder)
By late Sunday morning, Con really begins to wear out its welcome. One is tired, over stimulated and on edge (people really jostle you around on the dealer floor). This year, I'm comfortable leaving... as the horror of the Evil Project From Hell no longer linger over my head at home.
I can't wait to get back to my own bed. And large screen TV.
SQL> Select Balance From Account Where User = 'Literary Alchemist';
Saturday, as has become the norm, was absolutely dreadful on the dealer floor. Too many people. Too little space. Too many shiny things attracting attention. And that doesn't include the scantily clad has-been Bunnies or Adult Stars.
Panels became insane on Saturday. I actually sat through a panel about The 4400, just so I could endure the most dreadful [adult swim] panel I've seen in five visits to the Con. Having said that, I'm seriously considering emailing the following to [adult swim]:
To whom it may concern,
I would like to thank Dino Stamatopoulos for singlehandedly ruining Comic Con International 2006's [adult swim] panel. Mr. Stamatopoulos's contempt for his fans first became apparent when he attempted to consume alcohol during the panel. He further made his disregard for the audience obvious when he advised us he was already inebriated. It seemed, however, that he felt his distaste for his audience and fans was not clear. Thus, he employed a strategy of insulting the audience and his peers, while pouting. All this to garner attention.
I find it commendable that [adult swim] has such unyielding patience for such an arrogant "artist" (used loosely) who has no interest in his public. You should be proud of your support for this untalented hack who dislikes his own work and his audience.
I look forward to ignoring his work as much as possible.
Sincerely,
The Undersigned
Such sentiment shouldn't be necessary. Panelists attend Comic Con voluntarily, for the most part. Individuals, such as Seth Green, really seem to enjoy the event. They like their fans and enjoy giving and receiving input on panels of this nature. Those of us who attend a panel to hear from a specific person are polite and friendly to the individuals with whom we are not familiar. It seems only fair that the panelists return the favor.
To appear inebriated is insulting to the fans. Not because I think drinking is wrong. Rather, because I believe it is disruptive and rude. Both to one's peers and to the fans.
I'm sure any sentiment I share with [adult swim] will have little or no effect on this guy. But I'll feel better, having shared my opinion on the matter.
Sunday was, as usual, pretty slow. The dealer floor was easier to navigate, but sparsely populated by dealers and their wares. I attended three panels:
1. The Tick (on DVD August 29th)
2. Cartoon Voices II
3. Robot Rumble 2006 (Crow and Tom Servo of MST3K fame arose victorious, over the likes of V.I.K.I, from Small Wonder)
By late Sunday morning, Con really begins to wear out its welcome. One is tired, over stimulated and on edge (people really jostle you around on the dealer floor). This year, I'm comfortable leaving... as the horror of the Evil Project From Hell no longer linger over my head at home.
I can't wait to get back to my own bed. And large screen TV.
SQL> Select Balance From Account Where User = 'Literary Alchemist';
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