Artemis: The Final Frontier in Star Trek-esque Games

I was at Tower today, planning on getting some work done for my upcoming Amber game, when I got side-tracked by some board games (I say "some", but it was really just me teaching some people how to play King of Tokyo). Anyway, after a few rounds of King of Tokyo, I wander into the cyber cafe to see Don Sherig setting up several networked laptops.

"What's going on here?" I asked, moderately interested.

"Oh, we're setting up to play Artemis," Don replied.

I, of course, inquired about the game. The answer I received, I kid you not, BLEW MY MIND. I'm sure some people out there have already heard about this. If you haven't however, allow me to give you a quick synopsis of what it is.

If you've ever seen an episode of Star Trek, than you're familiar with how the bridge of a typical starship is comprised of several people, each at a post that's essential to the functioning of the ship. Well, that's what Artemis is. Artemis allows a group of people to simulate what it's like to each take a station on the bridge of a Star Trek-esque starship and make it work as they go through missions.

The stations available to fill are:

Weapons: The weapons officer is in charge of, duh, firing the ship's various weapons systems. The game offers "beams" (which, let's be honest, are stand-ins for phasers), mines, torpedoes, and the powerful "nukes". The weapons officer also has the ability to turn ship's power into more torpedoes or torpedoes into more power. The cool thing about the interface for the weapons officer is that, when using the beams, they can target specific parts of the enemy ship to cripple specific systems. THAT is cool.

Helm: The helm officer is, essentially, the pilot. They make the ship go. They make the ship turn. The control speed, direction, etc. This is important because the pilot needs to be sure that, during a fight, the ship maneuvers as much away from enemy fire as possible while, at the same time, making sure the ship's weapons officer can still fire upon them. I didn't get to look in-detail at the helm interface, but it seemed fairly straight-forward.

Science: The science officer in in-charge of a LOT of different aspects. First and foremost, they have control of the scanners and the information they provide. This comes into play when an enemy ship's shield frequency is required to bypass their defenses. They also are the ones that give the bearings for navigation to the helm officer. Essentially, anything scan-related or navigationally supplementary falls under the science officer's control.

Communication: The communication officer is the one that takes incoming calls. They also hail enemy ships to surrender when in combat. Contacting friendly star bases and ally ships also falls within the communication officer's control This is important because the communication officer is the one that communicates the orders to friendly bases and ships to do things like "make us more ammo" or "assist us in battle".

Engineering: The engineering officer (my role) is the one that delegates where the ship's power goes at any given point. They have the option of bumping the beam power, or the engines, or the maneuvering, or any of the other seven systems in the ship. They do this through a careful balance of coolant resources (which keep high-running systems from overheating) and power application to optimize the ship for certain scenarios. To save these settings, the engineering officer is allowed ten presets in which they can record a setting and jump back to it at the click of a button. On top of all that, the engineering officer monitors any damage to the ship and controls the three damage control teams to go and fix them.

Captain: The captain is the only role in the game that does not require an actual computer to play. The captain sits back and gives the other officers orders to follow during the scenarios. We were fortunate to have have our friend Jim be the captain. Initially, I thought the role of captain would be a boring one, but when the game got going and Jim started coordinating the rest of us, it actually felt like a cooperative starship effort.

It took a bit of tweaking and experimenting before we all started to get the hang of our various systems, but once we actually figured out everything we were doing, it got REALLY exciting. We were engaging groups of enemy ships, encountering unknown space entities, saving space bases from attack, and generally hopping about the universe being badasses.

Unfortunately, green women aren't part of the experience.

Honestly, if someone told me that carefully adjusting a starship's power settings would be a blast, I'd probably look at them like the had just asked me to marry them in Klingon.

Again.

But there it was! A game that finally made us nerds feel like we were part of a legitimate starship crew and were actually jaunting about the universe. I got so immersed in the game that I, and several of the other players, didn't realize that hours had flown by and the store was closing. Hopefully, there will be more adventures of the U.S.S. Turris Ludi (tower of games in Latin) to come!

Make it so!

I don't normally do this particular style of writing. However, I'm in a mood today, so I figure I'll give it a try.

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This empty room.

Every night this room feels more and more empty.

The white walls splashed with yellow light, combining to create a sickening ambience. The walls, half decorated and half completely bare, further the sinking feeling in my stomach. Half of these walls were left bare for a reason, though it be long forgotten now.

Now...now any semblance of a desire to hang up the various posters, pictures, whatever other useless meaningless crap is all but gone.

The floor, though carpeted, still proved hard as concrete beneath me. My back ached. My neck ached. I ignored it as I continued to stare at the luminescent screen of my nearby laptop. On it droned on the same videos and same shows that I always watched.

My life proved pretty boring at times like these.

In my mind raged the neverending desire to DO something.

LEARN French.

BUILD your steampunk outfit.

MAKE videos for you blog.

WRITE those scripts you need to finish.

It screams out relentlessly to a body and heart that have no desire to act. I see no point. Why do I see no point? Couldn't say?

Depressed? Maybe. The possibility is too great to ignore.

Can anything be done? Maybe. Clinical help is expensive and untrained friends and associates can only do so much.

My mottled collection of action stare at me from their perch across the room. All of them forever stuck in whatever pose I chose for each of them, all of them forever fated to sit there in each others company until I either outgrow them or lose them.

"What am I doing with myself?"

The quiet of the room, of the apartment at 1am, answered back with a resounding silence.

At times, I contemplated my own death. Sometimes it was, in fact, thoughts of suicide. Other times, it was thoughts of what my funeral would look like, who would attend, what would happen to me after death...the typical combination of self and existential questions that everyone asks about their own demise.

I am wholly unoriginal when it comes to this.

Then again, there is only so much originality and creativity when can have when it comes to the unknown. Though, I suppose, one could argue that the unknown would provide a much broader canvass on which to create.

Then agian, I'm not a painter.

I'm sure Julia would agree with the latter statement of the above paragraph. She likes to think in the abstract. It comes with the mindset she revels in.

She's currently planning a camping trip this weekend. This saddens me even more because it was something her and I were supposed to have done together while we were together and we never got the chance...or maybe I didn't try hard enough to do it. Regardless, she's getting to do it now, and good for her, I guess.

So here I lay.

And lay.

And lay.

Something to Say or Silence will fall

It is a firmly held belief of minee that most people in the world have a lot to say but very little so Say.

If that doesn't make any sense, welcome to my mind.

My ex and I were talking tonight and she began asking me a series of abstract, overly-intellectual questions because she happened to be in one of those moods. During this discourse, she mentioned that I always seem to have something to Say, but seem to hold back.

I responded simply with a few retorts, such as people not being ready, myself not being ready, and me not being able to find the Words.

She parried and riposted by questioning who got to determine such things and that perhaps people would never be ready for someone with something to Say. Saying that to deny the world the things that some people have to Say and the abstract nature of those Sayings would simply cause everyone to be quiet.

I responded with that, instead of actually Saying what needed to be said, Silence would fall (I was being funny, quoting Doctor Who, but realized the significance after the fact).

I wonder if I truly have something to Say. Does everyone have something to Say and many just lose it when they let go of what makes them who they are, or let go of their ability to think coherently or abstractly? I do believe that there is great potential in the world for Sayings, many of which are lost as one gets older. Or does becoming older grant one the clarity to see what they have to Say?

I'm fairly certain that my Saying wasn't obvious until I got older, but maybe it's different for everyone. Maybe, much like our individual fingerprints, what we have to Say is unique to all of us and how it fosters and grows, or inversely withers and disappears, is equally unique to each individual. Whereas high school may be the setting where one young teenager's Saying flourishes into realization, another's may be crushed entirely. There's really no way to no.

Which brings me to my next, rather sorrowful, conclusion on what we have to Say: there seems to be no way to properly develop one's Saying. So many things to Say are lost. So many unique and abstract ideas are never cared for and manifested and shared as they should be. So many possibly world-changing realizations are never realized because the Saying was lost...and that saddens me.

I feel my own Saying still within me. What it Says, I'm not certain. As I think of it, personal truths flash before my eyes, showing how unusually contradictory I am with myself and the world around me.

I speak ill to your face and say good things behind your back.

I value the mind above all other things, moreso than even those that claim they do as well.

I want the world to be more intelligent and have more common sense, but despise everyone less-intelligent than myself.

I am content, but not happy.

I value kindness and good-naturedness, but see the logic in domination and manipulation.

My mind wishes to do a great many things, but the flesh bag it wears feels differently.

I am sad with no reason.

These thoughts and many more flash within the seismic disruption of activity within the cracks and crevices of my mind. My mind, a mind that never ceases to be active, even when I'm actively trying to deactivate it. Oftentimes I find my mind wandering much like it did in my school days when class bored me to literal tears, not a surprising turn of events considering my job has a very similar setting as that of a school, and I go on my fantastic adventures to faraway lands. The same adventures that I often mention in others posts, wishing that I were capable of going on or being whisked away to.

Maybe my setting is stifling my Saying. Maybe I yearn for those faraway lands because my mind interprets that as the only way what I have to Say will be Said.

Then again, maybe it's merely wishful thinking.

Games that Ruin Friendships: Kane and Lynch 2 (James' Version)

 Hello, faithful readers. The last wordslinger, Jason, here. James only agreed to do Kane and Lynch 2 on the condition that he would get to write his own side of the events that occurred since I "made him look like an asshole" in previous installments of this series.

That being said, this is his side of the story. I won't say anything more to influence your opinion or perception of the matter so that this comparison remains completely and totally 100% to the reader's interpretation.

However, I WOULD like to point out that his article wasn't very funny so I had to clean it up a bit. And there were a lot of words misspelled. And it was just downright boring.

But I fixed it. So don't worry.

(Editor's Note: I'll be sticking these throughout the article in places I think it's necessary to point out my friend's ignorance. They'll usually accompany a correction I've made or something that makes no sense.)

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So there I was back in Tower of Games on Saturday to burn some time before Pete’s Amber session. As usual I decided to do this by getting an all-day pass and getting on one of the 360s that they have there. But then I noticed something; Dumb hipster hat, a pair of eyes that matched that of a excited crack baby playing with his willy for the first time (Editor's Note: What the fuck does this even mean, James?), a goatee that belongs in a museum dedicated to the 90’s, and a stomach that was destined to become a beer belly lined with so much yeast that it would maintain a certain perk to it (Editor's Note: Was this a joke? I'm not even certain anymore if this, or any of the other things being written, are jokes). Yeah, I’m sure you would have guessed it by now: it was Jason.

(Editor's Note: Proper punctuation is critical to maintaining the correct tone for your article, James. Also, you're a fucking idiot.)

Editor's Note: In my defense, this was taken 10 years ago. Fucker.

Jason: JAMES! Come on let’s play a game together so I can put it on my blog! (Editor's Note: James, if you're considering this "writing" thing as a serious hobby, invest in elementary school grammar text books)

Several things went through my head. “GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!” was one of them. As well as the fact that the last two times he posted about our co-ops he made me out the be the dumb one and SOILED my good name. Well readers only I may soil myself. (Editor's Note: I'm sure my readers don't doubt this, buddy)

James: Ok, but only if you post my side of the story and you will post yours without reading mine first. Now why not “Kane and Lynch 2” (Editor's Note: This is incorrect. I was the one that chose Kane & Lynch 2. There is no joke here. James is just a liar)

He of course did not agree to play co-op in a game that was made to be a co-op. No, he picked Kane and Lynch 2: Pile of Hairy Dog Shit

OOPS my bad It was called dog DAYS not PILE OF HAIRY dog SHIT.
Easy mistake. (Editor's Note: I didn't correct these sentences because I wanted a clear example of how James doesn't understand how capitalization works)

Let me get what was wrong with the game out of the way first. I’m not going to get into the story as me and Jason just didn’t care. I read the plot on wiki later and found that I saved myself from making heavy sighs. You know it’s sad when you can spot bad writing and plot holes on the wiki. What disappointed me was that Kane never had his trippy moment where he starts to freak out. That was the highlight of the last game but they took it out. (Editor's Note: The fact that James actually referenced the first game and admitted to playing it shows how much more devoted, i.e. stupid, he is than I am)

Don’t worry guys I’ll get to why Jason sucks in a moment let me just blow past the game real quick. AI was uninspired and very buggy. Hit detection only detected when it felt like it. Level design was cramped and a little confusing. No melee or if there was it wasn’t working. Weapons were unrealistic. Taking cover was an ordeal. There was NOTHING in the gameplay I could speak of that was original. Simply put that game that Jason forced me to play had nothing above par. (Editor's Note: I like how James clearly states that it was me that chose Kane & Lynch 2 as the game to play when he earlier says HE was the one that chose it. Caught in our own lie are we, Mr. Marine?)

Now, on to why Jason sucks. I’ve seen 12-year-olds that could out play this guy in shooters. I didn’t mind the rush tactic that he used, sometimes it works because it denies the enemy time to prep. But not when Jason does it. (Editor's Note: This paragraph alone had 13 punctuation errors. Just wanted to point that out)

James: I’ll take the left side and push up.
Jason: Ok. Headshot. Headshot. Headshot.
James: That means you should get the fuck out my way at push up the right side.
Jason: Ok. Headshot. Headshot.
James:That's see here...now we...OW...JASON WHY am I am unprotected from the right. Those where clearly your guys that you blew past. Slow down we aren’t being timed!
Jason: Headshot....Headshot...Pft Keep up I’m getting SO many more kills then you (there is no way to tell this as the game didn’t keep track of stats)...oh by the way I’m 2 seconds away from dieing you should jump into this Chinese gang bang and save me.

(Editor's Note: James said none of the things he claimed to in the above dialogue. Either he was drunk, was remembering playing a different game, or is a liar. I'm still leaning toward the "liar" reason)

The game may have not had any stats to it but I do.

35.2% “Headshot” (72.3% of those were LIES)
20.7% “James, revive me.”
35.1% Shit Talk.

(Editor's Note: This is the point in the article when I'd question how James was able to accurately quantify the things being said. However, I realized that the answer is obvious: he's one of those retards that's only good at math. And by math, I mean coming up with bullshit figures)

After awhile we lost ourselves to cursing at each other. Thankfully, there were no kids there because F-bombs were being dropped like it was Pearl Harbor.

When Alex came in and told us that it was time to play Amber and you know what I thought it was over but no (Editor's Note: This sentence is beyond salvation. Enjoy your stay in grammar hell). He had to go on a monologue about how gay I was. Readers would you please refer to the first image. After awhile I decided it was time to keep my pimp hand strong. (Editor's Note: He didn't actually hit me in the balls, truth be told. He did, girlishly, slap me in the face before prancing off like a heartbroken ballerina trying to make sure her running mascara didn't get on her pretty pink tutu)

Editor's Note: Oh, yeah. Using the same image twice. Fucking hilarious, you master of comedy.

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And there you have it readers. I hope this was an enlightening experience for all of you out there. Now go read something a bit more mentally stimulating before those brain cells you lost reading this garbage of his become permanent.

Games that Ruin Friendships: Kane and Lynch 2

Mother. Fucking. James.

Yeah, that guy.

Those of you that have read my previous entries into this series know that this friend is the bane of my existence when it comes to multiplayer games. Now, I haven't been able to get any new material for this series because our dear James was away for several months doing his duty as a United States Marine. Bless him for doing our country proud.

However, he's back now. So the pain continues.

I will be the bigger man and admit that this round of suffering was my fault. We were at Tower of Games (located in Chesapeake, Virginia) and I suggested that we play another game together for the sake of a new article. He agreed and asked which game we should play.

Sure enough, the game that drew so much of our beloved Yahtzee's ire was available: Kane and Lynch 2: Dog Days.

And I'll go on to further admit that I'm not very good at shooters. However, I'd played this game before and found that I wasn't half bad despite the shitty controls and gameplay. I thought I'd give it another go, y'know?

Well, sure enough, this turned out to be a fun experience for all.

We boot up the game and James and I begin the first mission. Almost immediately, the game's terrible controls and camera, coupled with our inability to work together, turned the whole cyber cafe into a torrential storm of screaming obscenities (mostly directed at each other) the likes of which I had not had the pleasure of being apart of.

It went something like this:

James: Jason, what the fuck are you doing? You're charging at the enemy! Take cover!
Jason: Fuck you man! This is a bad game anyway, so just cover my rear!
James: I can't cover your rear if you run past three guys!
Jason: Come on, man! Aren't you a Marine or something! USE YOUR TRAINING!
James: WHAT GOOD IS TRAINING WHEN I'M PARTNERED WITH AN IDIOT!
Jason: FUCK YOU FUCKER!

And it went on from there.

One thing I had discovered in my previous playing of the game was that the hand guns were fairly useful in making headshots. I was particularly fond of the revolver (it seemed the most accurate), and was working diligently to try and take out however many enemies I could this time with the same technique.

It went something like this:

Jason: Headshot.
James: ....
Jason: Headshot.
James: ....
Jason: Headshot.
James: SHUT THE FUCK UP! A THIRD OF THOSE YOU MISSED, THE OTHER THIRD YOU KILL STOLE FROM ME, AND THE LAST THIRD....FUCK YOU!

Most engagements usually began with, as I previously stated, me running at the enemy guns a-blazing. I'm sure any of you hardcore shooter-gaming folk out there will laugh and scoff at my tactic and I have one simple response to you: fuck you.

Anyway, I would typically run at the enemies much to the anger of James who was trying to apply actual military tactics and maneuvers to a SHITTY GAME.

It went something like this:

James: Fuck, Jason you're in the way of my shot!
Jason: Fuck you.
James: You're ALWAYS in the way of my shots!
Jason: Fuck you. Shoot somewhere else.
James: GODDAMMIT JASON!
Jason: I'm down. Come revive me.
James: THAT'S THE TWELFTH FUCKING TIME!
Jason: FUCK YOU, MAN! JUST COME AND REVIVE ME!

Essentially if you combine all of these various elements into an almost incomprehensible maelstrom of swearing, that would pretty much describe what transpired between him and I. Granted, everyone else in the cyber cafe was rolling with laughter over the show they thought we were putting on for them, and I'm glad they found it amusing, but FUCK THEM.

Tempers got so heated that I eventually just went off on James.

It went something like this:

Jason: What the fuck were you doing for six fucking months? I bet you were actually over in man-thong land finally living out your dream and just going to town on any dick that you could find. I don't even think you were in Afghanistan a) because you came back unscathed and b) because you came back with this huge shit-eating grin that tells me that your yearly quota for cock was met over there. I bet the trees were made of dicks and they all had testicles for coconuts, and every fucking night you would sup of the sweet coconut-testicle juice, fulfilling every desire that you had ever had when-

And then he punched me in the dick. And slapped me.

Seemed like a fair enough reaction.

Renn Faire 2011: An Ongoing Car Ride

So, here I am in the backseat of my friend Jenn’s car. In the front are, of course, Jenn driving and in the passenger seat is Mae, a longtime friend of ours and fellow gamer. Currently, we’re stopped in traffic on I-64 in Chesapeake, Virginia on our way to our yearly visit to a renaissance faire in North Carolina.

Jenn and Mae are eating their Subway meals that we acquired prior to our excursion onto the interstate. I, however, chose not to purchase anything.

“Deploy the lasers. Why haven’t the lasers been deployed?” I asked, viewing the ridiculous amounts of traffic before us.

 “They haven’t been affixed to this car yet,” Jenn replied in typical deadpan Jenn fashion. When Jenn replies with this tone, it’s difficult to determine if she’s actually joking or not if you don’t know her well enough.

I pull out my laptop and begin writing this entry as the girls begin chatting about various topics, bouncing to and fro in their discussion about nothing in particular. We pass by two cars pulled off to the side, trapped by the sea of barely-moving vehicles.

“I wonder if they’re trying to get off,” Mae inquired as we passed by the motorists.

“If they are, they’re SOL,” Jenn replied.

“Yeah, ‘We’re going to just cross the five lanes of packed traffic to get off at the Battlefield exit!’ Wait, you can’t GET to the Battlefield exit from this side of the interstate. Well, they’re fucked.”

“Yup,” Jenn concurred.

The girls asked me what I was doing in the back, laptop out and the tippity-tap of my typing evident of some sort of activity. My writing ceased momentarily as I grinned up at them from my backseat haven.

“Writing fan fiction. ‘Ron slowly crawled into Harry’s bed. Neville was awoken by the sound of Ron’s…’ I think I’ll stop there.”

The girls chuckled at my admittedly immature joke, my joke that segued their talk into a discussion about the most recent, and last, Harry Potter movie. This, in turn, led into a broader discussion about Harry Potter in general between the two of them.

I continued to remain silently detached from the talking.

“I hate Katy Perry so much,” I stated simply, hearing Firework start playing on Jenn’s radio, "Get ready to hear this song every fucking 4th of July."

 “I don’t mind her so much,” Jenn said.

“Have you ever heard her sing live?”

“Oh, I know that many artists are so studio altered that they sound nothing like they do in real life, and, in actuality, can’t carry a tune onstage. That doesn’t stop me from having their songs on my iPod if I like them.”

Admittedly, I like Perry’s E.T. for god knows what reason.

Then the conversation turned to Glee. Being an out-of-the-closet fan of the show, and Mae being an openly enthusiastic fan of the show, her and I kept talking about our favorite songs, mash-ups, lines, characters, moments, and so on. Even Jenn, who hadn’t seen much of the show, added to the conversation every once in a while.

This lasted for a good 30-40 minutes of nothing but Glee-related talk. This is what happens when you get diehard geek fans together. 

 Jenn, feeling inspired by the talk of show choirs, decided to turn the course of the discussion to the Evil Dead Musical, the music of which she happened to have on her iPod and wanted to share. We obliged her, Mae and I having never seen or heard the songs before.

I have to say that the one about every man one of the female characters had known was killed by a Sandaran demon was pretty funny.

And, as inevitably must happen between three hardcore gamers that had once gamed together in a memorable campaign, the conversation turned to Dungeons and Dragons.

To be fair, Jenn had told me a week or so beforehand that she was trying to work on putting a timeline of the game she had run a few years ago together. She was having difficulty remembering several of the parts and required the assistance of Mae and I during the car ride to try and fill in the missing bits. However, these talks always start out under innocent pretenses like “filling in the missing bits” and somehow always devolve into laughing and reminiscing about the old games and characters and on and on.

We continued to talk about D&D for the next few hours. 

 Then we picked up Tim. Tim is one of those few whose intelligence is something I admire and envy. He was my DM once upon a time. I cannot express how terribly he traumatized me during the two games we played in together.

So, obviously, we continued to talk about D&D for the rest of the car ride.

What can I say? Geek pride lives on in the proud.

Blog Update - 10/5/2011

All right, loyal readers, I finally got off my lazy ass and finished the article and video sections of my blog. Now, all of my wonderfully-written and wonderfully-shot articles and videos are in easy-to-find and easy-to-navigate pages right there at the top of my page.

If you're blind and find yourself unable to locate such link buttons at the top there, allow me to provide you with direct links here:

Article List
Video List

No longer will you have to dredge through dozens of back pages just to find that ONE poignant article I may have written or stolen from someone else! Be sure to use these features to share my work with your friends, otherwise I will have spent hours of my life organizing and linking it all for...well....nothing.

Excelsior!

MonsterFest - Red Knight by Justin Cristelli

And we're back. For the next installment of our local talent spotlight that I encountered at MonsterFest, I'd like to introduce you to the newest hero on the block...Red Knight!

Red Knight is a comic written by Justin Cristelli, drawn by JC Grande, and published by Primal Paper Comics. All three are local to the area and I was fortunate enough to meet Justin at MonsterFest, talk with him briefly, and buy the first two issues of Red Knight.

Having finally read them, I can honestly say that I'll make a concerted effort in attempting to buy the future issues (issue #3 should be coming out sometime in the near future). 

One of the things I really enjoy about this comic, thus far, both in and out of the storyline, is the local flavor of the whole experience. As I stated previously, the comic itself is produced by the local Cristelli and Grande and published by the local Primal Paper Comics. Currently, it's circulation includes all local comic stores that have a brain. If you have a local Hampton Roads comic store that doesn't carry Red Knight, you should definitely inform them of their error. 

Within the story, however, is where the real magic happens. The setting itself is local Norfolk, Virginia. I have to admit that it's a VERY cool feeling to be reading a comic where the heroes are stomping around your own area. On top of that, the experience isn't the same as it is for, say, New York City citizens with the many comics being set there, considering that Norfolk and Hampton Roads are small enough that it makes the experience much more...personal for local readers.

The setting of Norfolk also plays a role within the plot. Many of the characters reference how Norfolk, being a much smaller city than the more major ones in the country, doesn't seem worth having its own superhero/villain. Several characters even mention how super criminals that get trashed in Washington D.C. only show up to Norfolk to lick their wounds. 

The entire premise revolves around the two parties involved, the superhero trio (including Red Knight, of course) and the super villains basically proclaiming that, since Norfolk has not warranted its own super-community yet, that they'll take it as theirs, whether for good or ill.

This brings an entirely different bend on the superhero angle considering many readers of mainstream comics forget that small towns DO exist in the world of superheroes despite the fact that the heroes themselves are stationed in the major metropolises.

 

Anyway, the story revolves around Todd McClain, the titular Red Knight, who only wants to be a superhero and fight crime. However, he lives in a world where vigilantism is not only illegal, but a serious offense, and superheroes have to register to do any sort of do-gooding. Ignoring these, however, he does his best to fend off drug dealers and thieves with the help of his two friends, Fireball and Nonstop. 

I won't go into too much detail about the initial story, considering it's only two issues long and telling you ANYTHING would ruin the better bits, but I highly recommend finding it and picking it up for yourself. Cristelli was telling me how Red Knight has a good mixture of Batman and Spider-Man in him, and it shows in the humor and nature of the character.

All in all, a very enjoyable read thus far. I DEFINITELY will be picking up issue three when it comes out and you should check all of them out if you haven't yet.

Oh, did I also mention you can get a chibi Red Knight plushie too?

MonsterFest - Dr. Madblood: Scientific Master of the Horror Film!!

Recently, I attended a local yearly event that I had been putting off for quite some time. Having, at one time, been involved with the areas resident Rocky Horror Picture Show shadow cast, I had known one of the long-time-associated individuals by the name of Rob Floyd. Rob is one of the coordinators of the event in question and every year he got up on that Rocky Horror stage and promoted the hell out of it.

What is that event, you ask?

Well, it's MonsterFest.

MonsterFest is a somewhat small, local convention that specializes in current horror and older horror films, along with a splash of fantasy and science fiction thrown in. Located at the Chesapeake Central Library in the Great Bridge division of Chesapeake, MonsterFest isn't widely known, but IS widely loved by its loyal attendees.

This past Saturday was, in all honesty, my first time going to MonsterFest. Ever. I had been aware of it for quite some time and never made the effort to go. While it doesn't have the glamour and scale of other large conventions in the area (Nekocon comes to mind...), it certainly makes up for it in heart and local talent.

So! Now that I've concluded my introductory stretch for this article, I'll get into the reason for this series.

One of the charms of MonsterFest is all the local talent that shows up to showcase and share their work with the public, hopefully gaining some new fans. I will highlight several of these artists/entertainers here in my blog in hopes that I can generate at least a LITTLE more fanbase for them.

Today, I'm here to talk about Doctor Madblood.

Pictured here: SCIENCE!

Doctor Madblood is a horror movie showcase program that began in 1975. Trying to differentiate himself from the other horror show hosts at the time (who were all vampires...I guess it was the "thing" to do), Jerry Harrel created the titular Doctor Madblood to be the host of a Halloween special.

With the special having a resounding amount of success, the show has, since then, been aired weekly after Saturday Night Live,  been moved around to various other time slots, been taken off the air for a few years, and eventually returned with a resurgence in televised and online media.

During it's 36 year, on-and-off tenure, Doctor Madblood has introduced a variety of characters and storylines into the Madblood universe. These stories and characters have ranged from the comedic and one-shot to the serious/scary and recurring, showing the extensive creativity that Harrel and his team still continue to draw upon even after more than three decades of doing it.

One notable cast member, a personal acquaintance of mine, is one Craig T. Adams.

Pictured here: TIME TRAVELING SCIENCE!

Involved with a local childrens theater troupe in the area, Craig also portrays Uncle Felonious, Brain, and several other recurring characters on the program.

Now, as of the posting of this article, I've only watched a few of the complete episodes, "The Goodbye Button" and "Wonderman" that I found on Youtube, and the special sneak preview of their upcoming movie at MonsterFest, and I have to admit that the team involved is talented and funny. Personally, I'm going to look for more episodes and try to catch their show more often.

I recommend all of you do the same too!

Long days and pleasant nights, readers.

Doctor Who Series 6 Finale

"The first question! The question that must never be answered! Hidden in plain sight! The question you've been running from all your life! Doctor...who? Doctor WHO? DOCTOR WHO?"

Madman with a box

And that, my dear readers, was the closing line of this series finale of Doctor Who. Recently, I've been rewatching a lot of Tennant's last season and Smith's first season and it becomes apparent whenever you encounter a Stephen Moffat episode that he's been building up to this for quite some time.

Madman with a Doctor

It seems that this storyline has always been on Moffat's mind and he's finally able to bring it ot he forefront in the Whoniverse. Personally, I believe he's gearing up for the 50th anniversary of the show in 2013 where the Doctor's name, the question that every fan has ever had, the question that the show's own title is based on will finally be answered. What could be a more fitting way to celebrate five decades of Doctor Who than to do something spectacular and give the fans.

And, honestly, I think it's a brilliant idea. And brilliantly executed. I had my suspicions that "the Question" always being referenced in the show would, in fact, pertain to the Doctor's identity. I did have my suspicions that it might be about other things, but my mind kept occasionally coming back to the Doctor's identity.

"No, no, no," I would say to myself, in a fleeting moment of insanity, "That would be TOO obvious."

I swear you've been taking your meds

But the way in which it was presented...the method the writers used to execute the revalation of the Question, I realized that it was ever the only question that could be asked. For 50 years, viewers have watched this program, fallen in love with the many incarnations of the mad Doctor, all without every knowing the "madman with a box"'s name.

As I read in another article addressing recent Doctor Who storylines, Moffat has been building up to this since he before he was head writer, writing individual episodes for Tennant seasons. Now, being the man in control of the Doctor's destiny, so-to-speak, he finally is bringing his grand scheme to the forefront.

My personal belief is that Smith will stay on at least through the 50th anniversary and the 50th anniversary will be centered around the Dotor's name and everything hinted at in this series' finale. If my assumptions are correct, the world will know "Doctor who?" at long last. And if this turns out to be the case, allow me to say what a better man has said before me:

Fantastic! Allons-y! Geronimo!

Holy Shit It's From the Past!

While doing the thing normal bored people do, Googling myself, I came across an old page that was thought to be lost. Behold, my old Rocky Horror Picture Show cast member profile page!


Fishnet Inc. Cast Profile: Jason

Why Nobody Can (re: should) Take Game Stores Seriously

My friend Dan, who can be a pretty funny guy when he doesn't have his head up his ass, posted this. I thought I'd share.
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Game stores are weird places as an outsider. You develop preconceived notions about what "gamers" are like, and in turn try to shy away or enter only with those stereotypes. Or, at least, I thought they were stereotypes. However, when I started to step back and try to just observe things, I noticed just how pathetic gamers are--myself included--when you get us in to "our stores." Don't believe me? Let's break down the many major flavors of gamer. No subgroups, all generalizations. It's for science, people. ....Well, if "science" suddenly means "making fun of ourselves."

Miniatures Gamers
For many, these are the first guys you notice in a store because they--and their shit--are freaking everywhere. They take up massive amounts of table (and sometimes floor) space, they converse and play loudly, and half the time they're pulling so many miniatures out of their massive "army carriers" (They're purses, guys. Purses.) that all you can think is "Well, no wonder he drives a shitty car. He's spent more money on plastic than the entire Las Vegas stripper industry." Well, Ok, a lot of the "good" miniatures are metal, but I stick with my previous joke. Once their mini fridge-sized bags have been emptied and left on otherwise perfectly good tables, they get down to actual game play. Long, arduous, argument-filled game play where they seem to take nearly an hour to resolve a battle that would actually take about three minutes in real, flowing combat. It's as if they've never heard of, oh, say, Heroes of Might and Magic, which does all the calculation for them. It's almost as bad as D&D, but we'll get to that later. The strangest part of this behavior is they seem to want to take up as much space and time as they can without being astrophysicists. Somehow to them, the more freaking space they take up and the longer they hold down a table, the more prestigious they feel. As such, they will always be there, lurking in the....well...wherever they can put their crap.

Yu-Gi-Oh Players
Because Pokemon kids apparently grow up--but only slightly--the Yu-Gi-Oh craze spreads like wildfire. I'll admit I have no problem with the game itself. It actually seems fascinating mechanically. However, the goddamn players make me want to remove all things Yu-Go-To-Hell from the face of the planet. I thought it was just the players at my shop, but no, apparently all over it's the same behavior Come in large groups; buy little to nothing new; seat way too many people at a table, even blocking aisles; scream and yell like every card played is either a gunshot to the nuts or the greatest triumph of Man. Oh, and don't get me started on the hygiene. Apparently they're so busy looking like they're headed to a rave afterward (or a Justin Bieber look-alike contest) that they forget to shower. It goes beyond swamp ass, my friends. If they smell like a Red Lobster and you're not in a seafood joint, it's sort of a clue they are not fans of soap. Still, even with their loud, rude, and stinky behavior, you will always see them in a game store. Why? Because game stores are there to make money, and on the fateful days when new cards come out, these kids spend their parents' money like sailors on shore leave in Thailand. Complain about them all you want, but so long as they keep making large purchases (after lulls of no purchases at all), they will never be driven off. Capitalism assures that.

Magic: The Gathering Players ("My people.")
While many of us would like to think we're "the upper echelon of card games players," we're really no better than the Yu-Gi-Oh kids. Sad but true. Sure, many of us are far more courteous and clean-smelling, but we're no less space-consuming and annoying to the people around us. The fun part is that many of our "little" cabal don't even seem to register how much we annoy other people, Magic players or non-Magic players alike. We just seem to go about our business, babbling on about cards and tactics (and "RTFC" moments), hoping to get in a "good" game or two, but gauging our interpretations of "good" and "bad" not based on how much fun we had but rather on whether we won or lost. Well, some of us. I'm more of a "have fun" guy, but all around me people seem to be driven solely to win. This drive spreads like a plague until suddenly it seems to be all we think about, scouring through boxes upon boxes of cards, bugging people for their trade binders, checking web sites fervently, chomping at the bit to get in as many games as possible in hopes that "this deck" is the one that brings ultimate victory. Not fun. Victory. And as such, when we're so focused on winning, we all really just become a large collection of losers. In many ways.

Tabletop Roleplayers
"Tabletop," "PnP," "old-fashioned," call it what you will. I'm talking the D&D players; the Amber players; the Whatthefuckever players. Sure, I've played many of these games, but frankly they will always look bad in game shops. Why? Because of the players in game shops. Either you have the guys who get waaaay to in to their game, becoming oblivious to the world around them until they "are interrupted" and become belligerent, or you get the guys who want to turn a roleplaying game in to a miniatures game and just don't admit it. I've witnessed both. There's the parties so focused on their stories they become oblivious to everyone around them until something nearly pulls them away from their game, at which point they become cranky as all hell. In the other corner, there's the guys with so many books, charts, and reference sheets strewn about that you'd think it was a product demo and not an actual game session. You know "those guys." The ones who jump from combat encounter to combat encounter, taking hours to drop a guy in "twenty seconds," and call nearly every game "best session ever." All the while, both of these varieties should nearly be pitied because "it's so loud in here"...although they're usually the ones yelling, making everyone else yell over them in some sort of decibel arms race. Still, they come night after night, play their games, and wind up having the most fun out of everyone. Why? Because they realize no matter how they play it they're still just playing a game.

Board-Gamers
Despite the fact that game shops still sell the games they play and enjoy, this is actually a rare breed around here except on rare occasions. Perhaps it's because they need a smaller number of people to play their games and thus take up less space. Perhaps they go to stores at different times from the other gamers. Who knows? Still, this small caste of gamer seems to make appearances on my radar very rarely. So rarely, in fact, that I have little to work with about them, unless we group them in with the fair-weather...

Late-Nighters
Yeah, you've seen these guys. The ones who seem to only make appearances when stores are either open until the wee hours of the morning or holding special all-night events. Nobody really knows why they come. Maybe they work late jobs. Maybe their parents/roommates/spouses just want them to shut up so they can sleep. Still they come in with their friends and home-brought games in tow, waltzing right in like regulars while nobody (sometimes even the store staff) has any clue who the hell they are. Still, they're nice enough if you can get past the clique-based behavior. They are more than happy to keep to themselves if they are not approached, and sometimes they even bring their own food and drinks, pissing off the merchants while also making the bold statement "Yeah, I'm gonna be here a while." Still, the nagging thought remains in your head of "Who are these guys?" while they swear up and down that they "come in here all the time." Sure. Sure you do. Weirdos. Ummm...welcome?

Video Gamers
It's pretty uncommon for a traditional game shop to have a place to play video and computer games, but as "my" shop does, I cannot help but view the cyber cafe as an entirely different planet. On this planet, its denizens keep to the shadows, avoiding any source of light other than the glows of their screens as if it would instantly kill them. They stew in their own butt sweat, stinking up the place as they sit for hours on end contracting the ever-fatal Onemorelevelitis, or the even more detrimental Onemoreroundiswear Syndrome. Both of these diseases seem to stem from a pre-existing condition we can observe all too well, however: stupidity. After all, when these beings spend 4 to 5 days on the surface of their world and spend anywhere from $5 to $10 per day to do as such, one cannot help but wonder why they do not just keep the estimated $1,000 to $2,500 a year and buy themselves nice computers/consoles & TVs as well as the games to play on them, and then stay at home and save their money. Truly an odd group of beings.

"The Penultimate Gamer"
Every game shop has at least one guy like this, and if you can't spot him, chances are you are him. Still, you know this guy when you see him. He's the one who always comes in bragging that he "plays everything" and boasts about heightened skill in almost every form of game you can think of, but yet when you play with him (or even watch him play) it becomes quickly apparent that he's full of shit. His skills are usually so mediocre you wonder if he's even played the game before, and you find yourself very quickly excusing yourself so you can go laugh at him elsewhere rather than hurting his feelings by doing so in his face. He is by all means the ultimate joke of the store, and he doesn't even know it. In fact, he is so delusional that he never will. Still, it's good to see the Jack of All Trades alive and well, because at least you know you'll always have someone to play with....and beat.

So yeah, these are the groups I observe at their most general interpretations. When you sit back and read this--and then think about it for yourselves--I'm sure a lot of this is what you've seen before. If not, chances are now you'll start seeing it because you are aware. Either way, I only hope you can laugh as much as I can, because honestly they're just games.

Post-Post Modernism: A Proposed Theory

I was discussing the idea of generational modernism, post modernism, and post-post modernism with my lovely lady this evening. In our discussion, she informed me of the analogy typically used to describe modernism and post modernism. In response, I proposed a fitting yet unique analogy for post-post modernism.

Allow me to share.

As my lady explained, many viewed modernism as a whole vase.

Modernists viewed the vase as many pieces making the beautiful whole. To them, philosophically, each piece is meaningless when not part of the beautiful whole.

Post modernists view the vase, however, as broken.

The individual pieces are beautiful and NOT meaningless. The vase, as a whole, was unnecessary to appreciate the beauty of the individual pieces.

My suggestion for the post-post modern, to play along with the proposed analogy, is that there is, in fact, no vase at all. There is nothing. Which, in itself, speaks volumes about the post-post modern view of things. In addition to there being nothing, there is, inversely, a broken iPod to play off the post-modernist analogy.

While I still maintain that there is nothing, there is also an iPod, broken. The individual songs that are contained within are beautiful, but the motley collection of music, as a whole, is meaningless.

Intriguing, no?

So that is to say that the theory is that post-post modernists believe that there is nothing, but that this nothing is then filled with meaningless digital minutia.

Hmm...

Obsoletion Societal Overhaul

Let's discuss obsoletion. Obsoletion is the act of becoming or condition of being obsolete. Being obsolete, for the stupid, means that someone or something is either no longer in use or no longer useful.

From the standpoint of a fairly young 20-something living in America, it seems to me that a lot of things are rapidly becoming obsolete.

However, not all of these things rapidly losing their usefulness SHOULD be losing their usefulness. Here is the breakdown from my perspective.

Cash
Tangible dollars and coins are rapidly going to the wayside in favor of electronic funds and debit cards. People would much rather carry around a single card represents all of their accumulated wealth instead of, well, their accumulated wealth. It's gotten to the point where going into a store that only accepts cash is a severe inconvenience to most individuals.

This isn't necessarily a good thing. It isn't necessarily a bad thing either. What I mean is that cashless money is both convenient and quick. As long as someone keeps track of their money and their card, a trip to the bank is never needed. However, if one were to lose that card (as I've done many times in my past), one suddenly finds themselves cut off entirely from their own money until a replacement arrives. This proves quite inconvenient oftentimes.

Whether the switch to cashless money is a good or bad thing is truly up to the reader. I, personally, am on the fence about this. I don't carry cash myself in most cases and use my debit card in pretty much all circumstances, but I can recognize the flaws in the system.

Cash in and of itself is a flawed concept considering that we're putting value into, essentially, bits of paper and scraps of metal. However, that's a discussion for another day.

School System
I actually had a brief discussion about this topic just this morning with a coworker. The school systems were designed, from what I understand, to work within the standards of a post-industrial society. The structure in which we organize our education systems and curriculums are as little as 60 years old and as much as over 100 years old, depending on the grade level.

One would think that, after a period of time as great as 60 years, that they'd change some things fundamentally. I say this because, as I've stated many times previously in my articles, that society is an ever-changing thing that requires that the various aspects of it also change to accomodate and adapt for better integration.

The school system, specifically the grade schools, haven't changed at all, for over half a century, as far as structure is concerned. The effects are becoming more and more prevalent as it seems the children become more and more bored or distracted with school to do the work. And this is having a FURTHER effect of producing students of poorer learning.

Colleges are under their own weight of useless at this point. This is not because of a poorly structured, outdated system, but rather the fact that someone has to spend thousands of dollars on a "higher" education with no guarantee of a career or even a good job after their graduation. I have a friend that graduated college to be a teacher. What she does now? She works at a 7-11. Terrible.

Books
Now, I won't discuss this much. I've already commented a great deal about the travesty of the digital book. All I'll say is that this is one of the format changes that I entirely disagree with.

Fax Machines
I'm fairly certain that the wildly unfunny Carlos Mencia made a joke about this. For those of you that have never seen Carlos Mencia or, for some reason, didn't read the first sentence in this paragraph, the joke wasn't funny.

However, he made a good point. For some inexplicable reason people are still using fax machines. In an age of scanners and email and instant transference of data, I have such a difficult time wrapping my head around why anyone would choose to use a machine that sounds like its murdering and raping R2-D2.

It seems wasteful, annoying, time-consuming considering that we have much faster means of sending the information and storing them. Why are we even using paper documents anymore? Why am I getting a fucking paper memo from my manager about some new fucking policy or update? Why can't you tell me in an email?!

I know this one seems rather trivial, but in this wondrous age of technology that we find ourselves in, it seems that the fax machine should've gone the way of the beeper and HASN'T yet.


So, what are we to do about these problems (I'm sure there are more examples but these are the most prevalent)? Well, I believe society is suffering whilst being caught in either the in-between stages of transition from one format to another, such as with money, or is suffering from being still caught in the past, such as with the schools.

I believe a nationwide reform is in order. And I know such a thing isn't going to happen (or, as some would say, not possible) because of things like time, money, effort, etc etc. but for godssake people, look at the shit we accomplished in the past! We integrated school systems! We fixed our economy! We did all of these things within a set period of years! Have we lost our ability to plan and fix things in the long-term? Does everything have to be right here and right now? I know that would be nice....but seriously?

Seriously?

Honest Assessment and Analysis

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm no expert on anything. I consider myself more of a jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none kind of guy. That's just the unfortunate circumstance in which I live.

That being said, there's a LOT of things that I have above-average (above-average meaning a higher level than an average person) skill in. Computers, auto repair, writing, carpentry, acting, whatever. If I had more time on my hands, I'd probably attempt to refine these skills into something more...usable, but the daily grind of life tends to prevent such efforts.

Case in point, I downloaded Rosetta Stone and several languages several months ago (prior to beginning my current job) and I was able to learn a few basic Tagalog phrases before being forced to shelve the lessons due to lack of time (and energy, because I'm lazy).

That's one of my more prevalent flaws: I have the desire to improve myself but I lack the discipline to follow-through.

In my personal library, I have, off the top of my head, four maybe five "Dummies" books. One is to learn the guitar, two more are to learn French and Arabic (now rendered useless due to Rosetta Stone), another is for cooking, and I can't recall what the last one covered. However, the point is clear that I have a strong STRONG desire to learn new things and improve myself. Oftentimes, however, I'm held back by my ownlaziness, manifested in the form of excuses as to why I can't continue my lessons.

Why am I writing this deep and telling article? Well, I believe it's good exercise for the psyche to lay out your falws, admit them, tell others. I believe doing so may be the first step toward correcting and improving upon them. I hope within a few weeks time, with the forthcoming change in residence, that my outlook and attitude will be emboldened and I'll put more of an effort in.

Now, in my defense, part of the problem is a lack of...supplies necessary to do a lot of these things.
For example, the cooking book keeps mentioning various pots, pans, ingredients, etc. that I would need to progress through the lessons. However, I possess none of the ones listed. Now, I'm certain a skilled chef could look at the required equipment and say "Hey, we could substitute (this) for (this) and it would work just fine." But I'm not a skilled chef. Thus, the "Dummies" book.

But, I digress.

That reasoning doesn't extend to a good portion of the other teaching methods I own, so I can't use that as an excuse (as previously stated before, that I use to wheedle out of work).

Is it human nature (or American nature, actually) to find the path of least resistance and take it every time? To cut corners? To short-change one's self out of self-improvement because we're "tired"?

Possibly.

It has been shown numerous times that America is one of, if not the most, obese nations in the world. This takes me back to my earlier discussion on our ever-increasing digital existence. Americans, on average, have fairl accomodating existences. Has such convenience made us sedentary to the point that we refuse to improve ourselves beyond the point of necessity?

Example: a car mechanic may initially put in the effort to learn how to work on the basic car design. All cars, fundamentally, work the same. However, if he starts working at a garage and that garage were to suddenly start specializing in, say, Toyotas, the mechanic would put in the minimal effort to learn enough about Toyotas to keep his job.

This is, of course, barring the automobile enthusiasts that read about cars in their spare time, but every discussion like this has countless variables.

So, I suppose I'll end this article with a resolution. With the coming change in residence, and thus a big change in my life, I'm resolved to put in a legitimate effort to learn. Learn what? Something practical. And, hopefully, if I get myself into a disciplined routine, I'll learn something else after that. And something else after that.

And so on.