Thursday, June 25, 2009

Going south

I'm leaving for a couple weeks come Sunday, so this is my last gulp of published whinery that will be drank out of my literary pimp cup.

I think it's interesting that the straightest, most in depth analysis on world politics is coming from a comedy show. There's probably some statement in that.



Please give him a Peabody. Please.

Yesterday, Jamie Cartwright told me that he loved the new Transformers movie. It is important to note that he didn't just say that it was "wildly entertaining" or "a spectacle," which would be probably be fair. He apparently loved it. Now Jamie is a really smart kid and is my best friend, but I don't know how the appeal of the Transformers movie is any different to that of porn. Yeah, I realize that I'm quite tough on porn when I write here. I give porn a hard time. I erect my statements without sentiment. Penis. What I mean to say is that it's truly disturbing me how the shitty things that get popular are destroying everything. I say "shitty" not in the sense that they're not well made or wildly entertaining, but that they aren't utilizing the mediums to their full potential. The good television programs that are enjoyed by the masses are liked for the completely wrong reasons. I'm talking about the people who still want to know what the smoke monster is on Lost or enjoy 30 Rock only because of the moments when Tracy Jordan yells, not even understanding what his character parodies.

Listen. Every movie nominated for best picture last year was a great film. Yet, I remember someone saying in school, "All those films are arbitrary art house indie shit."

Yeah I can see myself as a snob sometimes. I look down on people who enjoy American Idol or musicals; I'll admit it. I use semi-colons.

But now even the snobby snobs are now finding the indie films snobby.

The Oscars are upping the ante. Next year, there will be 10 nods for best picture. And hey, maybe it is to recognize more talent. But I can't help but feel it's to pass off a nod or two to a Paul Blart: Mall Cop or Transformers to satisfy people.

I said 30 Rock earlier.



Umm... ummm. I'm supposed to always have a link to some music... This is somewhat appropriate. Not really. I listened to too much Bright Eyes in middle school. His latest album is shit. I think it's because he's content. Good for him.



Bye bye 'til the morning comes.

;

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Why people like videogames.

When I was seven years old, I was a pro at Mario Tennis.

Unbeknown to me at the time, the pattern in Mario Tennis was the first algorithm I ever memorized. If I returned the serve to the right, the pattern would be left, right, left, right, up left, top right, and repeat if necessary. The slice did not deviate this pattern, but simply slowed it down, and a volley only introduced variances with net play. This was how it was impossible for me to lose at this game. I'm pretty sure there were 14 or so characters. Winning the tournament with a character normally took an hour or so. After winning the tournament, a star would appear next to your character's name, signifying accomplishment and allowing for "stronger" play (it really just made the ball move quicker, not deviating the algorithm). At eight years old, I had a star on every character. Here's an illustration I just made.



This was how videogames used to be made. Algorithms can only exist in ideal conditions. Videogames were once a means of entertainment that somebody could "figure out." This is why the two top scorers in Donkey Kong are so far away from everyone else and some can beat Super Mario Bros. in six minutes. Upon familiarizing with recognizable and unchangeable instances, it all becomes predictable. Videogames are just more enjoyable than Calculus or, fucking, linguistics. Obviously there is no pattern for loving a woman or baking eggs or battling depression or winning slots or raising a family or raking leaves or waking up with a sense of purpose. This is why videogames exist.

But it's different now.

Like life, there is no way to "figure out" Halo 3. Game designers figured out that there is much more accessible joy in boundless exploration. Someone can be the best Halo 3 player just as there can be a best best basketball player. Except there is no best anymore. This is why games are ultimately worse than they were before but more people can enjoy them. This isn't to say that Bioshock is less enjoyable than Super Mario Bros., but that it can be no matter what. That's why I think Rock Band is the only perfect videogame ever made. Then again, I am probably one of a very few number of people who can see the pattern in Rock Band. Game developers are implementing unpredictability, music, sexual desires, a sense of power, chance, and even love. That should either make you smile or freak you the fuck out.

P.S. Speaking of Swengel's Her0es, I can't believe that we're still first.

I was supposed to be famous.



I luv u. Goo night.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Reinforcing what I said previously

When Bon Iver covers a song, it is better than the original song was.



As a side note, I have 18 scenes of my movie scripted out and ready to shoot. I'd guess that's probably around 20 minutes or so of film. You know the part of working where you get started and start to make headway and are like, "Yeah! I did something good! ...I think I'll take a break for a little while! I'm going to take a day off!" Well, I'm there, procrastinating through blogs postings among other distractions, like reading T.V blogs and getting wrapped up in the Iranian election. I realize that this is stupid and I have no power whatsoever in the outcome, but getting angry at something makes me feel more sure of my life and opinions and all that.

And no, I still don't care about Uganda.

Big LOLs go to whoever wrote this.

http://videogum.com/archives/what-america-wants/america-says-just-fucking-put_074291.html


I'm gonna grab a soda and do work. Oh yeah, why do they call those dispensers "soda fountains?" That makes me imagine a bunch of gazelles gathering around the watering hole, except it's filled with Dr. Pepper.

As always, I am sorry.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Making way.

The past couple weeks have been very strange. I no longer have any sleep schedule. I've spent a lot of time writing, playing video games, listening to music and, most of all, acting grateful for no longer being burdened with memorizing archaic calculus and physics formulas. It's kind of odd how quick I've been transitioning from day to day. Take this past week for instance. Two days I went through an age crisis, then I spent a day expressing unrequited love for the animal kingdom, then a day among the company of others, a day in deep despair, then I spent one day asleep as a result of the day prior, and now it's today and I'm somewhere in the middle. It's not that things have been moving faster, but it's just that I've had more time.

I guess I should talk about some substantial things. Emotions can be so boring if one's not in the mood to express them. My language isn't very colorful right now. I picked up Grizzly Bear's newest album, Veckatimest, and I have given it a good many listens. It always surprises me when I listen to a new record and am able to have my view of acceptable music drastically changed. I feel like music is one of the few mediums in the world where exploration is rewarded and even encouraged, on the artist's and listener's part. I also breezed through Mos Def's The Ecstatic. I liked most of what I heard of that one. I also shifted through Bon Iver's catalog. That man has a lovely voice. As I'm writing this, I'm listening though Dirty Projectors' Bitte Orca. It's really creepy but very quite lovely. It's kinda like St. Vincent's Actor. I'd say that it's way more comprehensive than Actor, though. I'm just going to throw out some music, hope something sticks and call it a day. Aw fuck, the sun's going up. I'm going to get my sleep schedule back in order.






Oh yeah, and I saw Wicked.

Update: It's a full day later since we last spoke and I still haven't slept. Oh, and Bitte Orca is a great album. Here.