Something Clever

I am Superman

2008-12-05T23:59:04Z

Been a while since we done one of these dream things. But I ended up waking up immediately after a dream this morning and typed it out in a haze. And here is the marvelous beast, but with the early morning typos fixed.

In the dream starts of third person, and I am watching Superman who is locked in a room that looks like a small hotel pool room with no pool. There are two other fellows, one who looks like the Gene Hackman version of Lex Luthor who is seated by a wall, the other clearly being John Travolta. Travolta is supposed to be Superman's ally, but after some talk that I can't recall he turns against Supes and starts punching him, mainly in the gut and the face. And Supes doesn't seem so super at all he is taking punishment, bleeding from the mouth, eyes swelling up, etc etc. Eventually Superman decides he has to escape and goes into a time machine that was apparently in the room the entire time. He ponders which time to go back to for a while and eventually settles on the 1970s.

At this point the dream switches to first person, and I am apparently superman gone back in time except now I am in my folks' house, except this was when my folks were teenagers and the house actually belongs to my grandparents. I'm in the downstairs bathroom and I can hear my dad coming down to take a shower. Dad starts talking, asking if anyone is in the bathroom, and I decide to pretend to be his younger brother, my uncle curt (even though I look nothing like the dude). I duck into the shower just as Dad is rounding the corner, and he comments that he sees that Curt now has a bald spot.

I escape the house without being seen and find that the biggest difference between Velva of today and Velva of the 1970s is that this old Velva has rickety aluminum commuter trains that run ALL OVER at ALL TIMES. Somehow I know that where I need to go is at the end of the train tracks, so I start heading on my way. During my journey I spot a radio tower where I set up some kind of device, and suddenly I am able to talk with my 14-year-oldish-token-black-kid-sidekick who still resides safely back in the 21st century. We share some laughs, and we learn that if we both turn our heads juuuuuust right we can see each other in the air in the form of staticy images.

Eventually I reach a tunnel. I know I need to get to the other side, but the trains run through it so often I know there's no way for me to run through. I turn back around, determined to find a way, when a motorcycle I am passing jump to life and revs up. It seems to want to get to me, but it's stuck, seemingly unable to get over a small cement divider in front of it. (It was a really short divider, like seriously I think I have had bicycles with better engines than this motorcycle). I pretend to ignore it, but all of the nearby people are commenting on it and wondering why the motorcycle has turned itself on and is trying to drive over a small gap. In the back of my mind, I am thinking of the movie MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE.

Finally I get to a smaller gilded tunnel underneath the train tunnel. There is a dapperly dressed guardsman there leased to a guard dog that is being completely disagreeable and barking at nothing in particular. I inherently know that this is caused by whatever is after me, and whatever made the motorcycle above jump to life.

And then I wake up.

I should have wrote this one down, because I forgot a lot of it...

2008-04-05T23:08:46Z

So last night I had a dream I was a Defense Attorney. Yes, like it was just something I fell into despite my computer science background. And yes, I thought I was up to it because of playing Phoenix Wright.

Anyways, the whole dream start on the front steps of the courthouse. I came knowing that I would be defending a rapper who was charged with improperly propositioning a young lady. At the beginning of the dream I was confident that he was innocent and that this would be an open and shut case. The prosecutor, however, was Ricky Beall, a knucklehead from high school who was also my speech team partner. Back in our high school days we were pretty successful on the Humorous Duo circuit, and while in my older days I had turned to more intraverted pursuits he had always remained the gregarious, charming, easy speaking type. Both of us acted as though everything were right in the world and that we weren't about to square off against each other in a "competition", but on the inside my mind was racing. I realized that I knew nothing about how to be a defense attorney and I knew nothing about my case. It was a half hour to trial, and I desperately needed an internet connection to do some really quick research. Unfortunately, the battery in my iPhone was dead.

I asked around and someone told me there was a library nearby, so I ducked inside of it hoping to use a public computer. Unfortunately when I finally found the computers, there were only three of them, and they were all missing mouses. Apparently you had to rent the mouse from the library and it cost so much per hour. I didn't have my wallet, so that was out too.

As we were waiting for the courtroom to open up, I finally met the man I was defending. He looked less like a music superstar and more like the town drunk. I needed to talk to him at length, but as soon as I met him they called us all into the courtroom.

We shuffle into the courtroom, which looks nothing like a courtroom at all. Really it's two folding tables and then a raised middle aisle. I get seated next to a rotund little woman who has an iPhone! I beg her ot use it, but she is reluctant. When I tell her it's important, she finally relents. When I get it I see she had been surfing a site for some MMO or some such, and as I try and navigate away from the site in the Safari browser an alert shows up saying that I got into a random battle. Soul Calibur boots up on the iPhone and I am dumbfounded. She takes the iPhone back from me, telling me I probably don't know how to play (and it's true, I have no idea how to play Soul Calibur on an iPhone).

The next part of the dream actually lasts a really long time -- us just sitting there, waiting for something or someone to arrive. I'm just going through my head trying to figure out what I'm going to do. Finally I decide I'm just going to have to do this like it WAS Phoenix Wright, scrutinize every testimony and look for contradictions. Of course I don't know what any of the evidence or witnesses are, but I get out a piece of paper and a pen, read to do my best.

Finally, the judge calls for opening statements, with the prosecutor going first. Rick walks up to the aisle carrying two sheets of paper. "The dude has prepared remarks!"" I think to myself, remarking again at just how unprepared I am -- I had no idea what I was going to say.

So then Ricky clears his throat, faces the audience, then walks back off the middle aisle where he transforms into a two and a half foot tall, rotund Godzilla and starts a song and dance routine. No I'm not even kidding the guy can barely move because his arms and legs are so short.

And that's when I wake up.

owel

2008-04-02T05:54:15Z

owel

Kind of a downer

2007-12-07T18:35:55Z

I am usually a sucker for fast food breakfasts, but Jack in the Box breakfast offerings are just pretty underwhelming.

But at least it has orange juice.

It's Sad for a Dude of Age to like the OC

2007-11-29T22:44:06Z

I mean there are some guys who if you talk to them about someone and they share a first name with a character on the OC well they will assume you are talking about the character from The OC.

And I dunno I think that's kind of sad.

Makes me sad just thinking about it.

(Remember everyone don't watch The OC write a novel instead)

HAY GUYS

2007-11-27T09:45:08Z

We're all buying Culdcept Saga in January, don't forget.

I'm Moving on Up

2007-11-26T23:16:29Z

The floor is not level, the "bedroom" is not entirely enclosed and is rather small, and there is one ugly ass broken down shed in the garden area. But more importantly it's in an ok neighborhood, there IS a garden area, and I've got the keys to the place.

Yeah I signed the lease on a new apartment place, and while it's not perfect there are perks. It's a short bus ride from downtown, there are plenty of restaurants nearby (including two Korean BBQ places!), and there's a Jack in the Box (yuck) that's open 24 hours (uh oh).

And hot damn there is a big garden area. It's not too pretty right now and it's shared with the upstairs neighbors, but I guess they never use it. Point is, it's the perfect place to put a GRILL and plant TOMATOES. Of course knowing me it will probably be months before I get a lapse from my usual laziness that's long enough to plant anything, but that's fine. Just being able to step outside at night without fear of getting shot will be well worth it.

You Can Learn a Lot from your Cabbie

2007-10-31T17:30:20Z

So I was pretty drag ass this morning because I was up too late last night playing Team Fortress 2 and trying to get my sound to work for more than two games straight. Given how stubborn I am about going to bed at a decent time this is not too uncommon, but I can usually get some rebound by taking advantage of my long commute to at least close my eyes and listen to something relaxing on my iPod.

My cabbie today, however, had other plans. He was a middle aged asian fellow who actually spoke English pretty well. Not one block into my drive we both got a whiff of a burning smell that was coming from SOMETHING nearby, and he was immediately convinced it was an off-grid public bus next ot us. He started to talk about how unfair it was that the government keeps telling us to check our emissions and what not when there was no one checking them, and what followed was a good twenty minute diatribe about how we are taxed too much and how most of the money is misappropriated anyways. The entire rant centered around one of his friends who worked a government job for 30 years and used his benefits to get a new pair of reading glasses every two years because it didn't cost him a cent and that way he could have a pair in every room just in case he needed it.

On the one hand, I really wanted to get my shut eye in. On the other hand, it was kind of a charming conversation, even if most of my responses were limited to nods and mutterings of "uh-huh".

You ever have something that you love but you forget you love

2007-09-18T19:43:27Z

...because you never really get the opportunity to enjoy that thing regularly and then finally the opportunity comes (in the form of a cafe by a workplace) and then you remember you love it.

For me that thing is croissants. I love croissants.

Even when it's the afternoon and the fresh ones aren't so fresh anymore and they have to microwave them.

New GO! Team Album Today, Punks

2007-09-11T08:13:17Z

And it's important because their first single from the album is all about ladies (yeeaahhh) turning a mother out.

It's important to support music that is on the same page as Ray.

The Legend of Mad Mad Kelsey Grammer

2007-07-21T21:26:30Z

It's a dream. What else. But I like this one.

Basically it all starts out somewhere in Oakland, in the residential area between downtown and Emeryville. I'm switching parking places for two vehicles parked on the street -- a tricycle, and a white 1991 Oldsmobile. After moving the car I step out without even thinking about it. Apparently the street I'm on has a very slight incline, though, and I didn't put the car in park, so it rolls backwards a little bit. I don't really fret, thinking it will just roll to a stop, but it doesn't stop and soon it's heading for the end of the street. Finally, I start to panic, and though the car is moving really slowly I am somehow too slow to catch it (I mean I'm not the fastest guy but come on that car was not going very fast). And then it happens -- the car finally bumps into another parked car. But, of course, it has to be one rather magnificent looking silver sports car. Two people get out of the car, a man and a strikingly attractive woman. The man I recognize instantly -- it's Kelsey Grammer.

Immediately choosing to own up to my mistake, while knowing there couldn't have been very much damage (if any) from such a low speed bumb, I approach the couple. The woman, apparently Grammer's wife, talks to me briefly while Kelsey examines the damage. When he's done he admits there isn't much, but he dirtied his shirt while cleaning it and he'd like to at least file this with his insurance. He asks me if I'd join him at the insurance office. I'm a bit annoyed, but agree. He wants to walk there, though, which is especially odd since it turns out the office is a couple miles away.

So we start walking and having some light conversation. I don't give any indication that I recognize him because I honestly can't figure out if that would make the situation better or worse. He's pretty terse in conversations with me but not at all off-putting or rude, so I take some solace in that.

Eventually we reach the insurance office though, and here things take a turn for the weird. We wait in the lobby for a few moments before moving on to a private room that has an informational video about the company playing in a loop. The video claims all kinds of ridiculous things. The one I remember most vividly is "We here at _____ insurance treat all of our southern customers with the utmost respect and care.... but if you are from NORTH, we will FUCK YOU. We will FUCK YOU OVER." This entire last part is accompanied by a yelling cartoon square that reminded me of Mr. Period from Penny-Arcade.

Anyways, after seeing this video I get a little aggravated -- there is no way this insurance claim is going to go well. I exclaim that I've had enough of this shit and try to turn the VCR or TV off, but neither will turn off. Kelsey sits calmly in the corner and finally an agent comes in. At this point i'm pretty livid and I immediately start telling my side of the story to the insurance person -- the car was moving slowly, no real damage, etc etc. Kelsey then speaks his mind: he stands up, demands I pay for the car damage (in thousands of dollars) and for his shirt. Then I just lay into the guy - He's a rich celebrity with multiple homes who makes more in a week then I do in an entire year, and he's trying to make ME pay for his SHIRT? Kelsey cuts me off though, loudly declaring that for all the money he puts into "this place" things better turn out for him. And then he storms off.

I'm convinced to stay a short while longer by the sudden appearance of a very attractive young female employee, but soon I decide that it's time for me to just cut out and run. As I'm looking for my escape, though, I spot something very odd -- Kelsey is coming back, but this time he is wearing a cape. Now I DEFINITELY know I don't want to have anything more to do with this so I start creeping throught he agency cubicle farm, trying not to be spotted by Kelsey. Oddly, there is suddenly no one else to be seen in the office. Even odder, I find in a wide open spot in the agency all these lego like black cubes put together to form a quasi-box that has holes in it. Somehow I recognize this as an artifact of GREAT POWER, and I figure that Kelsey must be trying to put it back together again.

As for Kelsey, he seems to be coming back around to where I am. I sprint away, hoping he doesn't see me, and dive into a bathroom. Unfortunately there's another dudo in there already and he's using the can. He doesn't seem too concerned about my intrusion, but he is wondering what I'm in there for. I tell him that I can't explain but that he needs to stay quietly. Suddenly someone is trying to push the door open, and I do my best to push back. Turns out this Grammer guy is pretty strong and he nearly gets through twice before the guy on the can decides to come help push the door close.

Unfortunately I don't remember much after this, except that this was apparently some kind of act Kelsey put on to multiple people to cultivate some crazy rumors about himself. The artifact and the rumor of it was also just to attract attention and potential visitors that he could his crazy act on. As to why Kelsey would want such a reputation is anyone's guess.

Dreamin

2007-07-16T21:15:46Z

More dreams. I gotta start writing these down as soon as I wake up because they are fantastic, but by now I've forgotten half of them.

Anyways, today's dreams started out with this one where me and members of my extended family were navigating a maze of wide trenches somewhere in North Dakota. There was a demon thing at the end and some other people exploring the trenches that could be friend or foe (one group betrayed us!) but unfortunately I don't remember much of it beyond that.

The following dream was more interesting though. It pretty much kicked off with me being at home and waking up my mother because I thought my WATER BROKE. Yeah that's right, I was pregnant (apparently for the second time) and needed to be rushed to the hospital immediately. Course here when we get to the hospital it turns out to be a false alarm, I just had an upset stomach or something. In fact, I'm not even sure I'm pregnant (with my second child).

My mother is pissed. She is going to miss work that day because she had to drag my stupid ass to the hospital. We spend the rest of the day at my aunt Lori's house and while we're there I get pretty depressed. Things get only worse, though, when I notice one of my front teeth is loose. I play with it a little with my tongue and pull it out completely. Tooth in my hand (which was like an inch long for some reason) I start crying, but mom is still pretty pissed and won't pay attention. At this point I'm getting pretty surly because not only am I depressed but everyone is ignoring me, so I go to the kitchen and decide I will go emo and put a couple of cuts on my arms and THEN they will listen. My sister comes in, though, and is more afraid that I am going to just drink a bunch of hard alcohol. She tells me she doesn't care what I do so long as I don't make another "margarita" (By now I've apparently completely forgotten about my potential child one way or the other).

If dreams are supposed to have meanings, then I don't care to know what the meaning to that whole chestnut is. Course I tend to believe that my dreams are just big random things, one way or the other.

What About Dreams?

2007-07-09T21:43:48Z

Yeah I haven't updated this for quite some time, but that's because between job hunting and sporatic freelance working life has been an uneventful trip through the doldrums. But I have been letting some dreams slip through my memory, including a couple winners about the zombie apocalypse and another that played out like a murder mystery where the murderer was one of two hotchicks and I was more worried about evaluating my chances with them than figuring out which ones was the killer. I have long since forgotten their details (and at least one from last night that slipped away where I was going to make $30,000) so it's time to start recording them again.

The one I do remember? Well I know I've forgotten at least 50% of it since getting up, but what I do remember is worth scribbling. Basically I was playing the lead role in a Bond film, and my Bond lady was Halle Barry ( I realize she has done before, but that's maybe why she made the dream cut ). It was only seconds into the film that I realized everything was mirroring Goldeneye which, fortunately (and sadly) enough was still ingrained in my head from hours playing a certain N64 game in high school days.

So, armed with this knowledge, I was able to take Hally through the opening areas, elegantly staying out of the sight of both man and machine, until we got near an airplane hanger -- our eventual escape. I disguised myself as airport staff, and as luck would happen a firefight broke out between the airport staff and some nameless goons. I helped take out the goons using a weapon that pretty much seemed like a Star Trek phaser, and I was pretty good with it. Afterwards I exchange some words with the airport staff and make my way to the airplane.

Inside the focus of the dream shifted. The interior of the plane looked like my grandma's house, and my entire mom's side of the family was there. The plane was running someone to a hospital apparently, and for the remainder of the dream there is no Halle to be seen. Instead my family is chatting ever so calmly and for a while nothing happens. Then there is a loud alarm sound, so I go check the panel near where the sound is coming from. As far as I can tell from this panel (which is just a huge red panel with one white button and an LED screen) the alarm was only going off because we had somehow been given access to executive priveleges we don't have a right to -- in this case pool tables -- so I hit the button again. Our priveleges actually went up a level (now we had access to an actual pool) and the alarm continued. I hit the button again, and suddenly the plane started nosediving out of the sky.

No one is blaming me, but my grandmother puts up her hands exasperatedly and announces that we're going to die. She goes to the telephone and calls someone, and says "well now we're going to die." in a tone no different than she would use if she was announcing tonight's dinner plans were ruined. Meanwhile I go to one of the couches and start wrapping blankets around myself, wondering that if I wrap myself up well enough if I can survive the crash.

Fortunately the crash never happens. The plane recovers, and the last part of the dream I remember is looking out the window while the plane is landing, where the plane is so deep in the middle of a city that it's nearly hitting buildings as it turns to approach the runway.

Finally, Something for my Walls

2007-02-13T20:08:01Z

It's an unfortunate condition of my apartment that it's pretty freaking bare. I've got the bed, the chair, the tv, a couch coming this weekend and then some boxes with stuff in them that I really don't have to put anywhere. And right now some trash and dirty laundry I guess. The walls are gray, the carpet is gray, and I'd bother with some decoration except I have no sense of interior design and the few decorations I did have before are still thousands of miles away.

Well I finally found at least something I want on my wall.

http://www.amanosworld.com/html/store.html

The one of Terra, specifically.

I'm not sure when my love for Amano's work transcended the fact that he was a concept artist for Final Fantasy, but I think it was right around the time that he illustrated Neil Gaiman's Dream Hunters (which incidentally got me back into Gaiman and more specifically his Sandman comic books which I still think are his best work). Yet here I've come full circle and am pretty much commited to buying a $200 art print of the artist and it's one of his pieces for a video game. But not just any video game, it's a print from Final Fantasy VI which is pretty much one of my favorite games ever.

I just find it funny that in addition to making up probably a third of my wardrobe and taking up easily a third of my free time, video game related parapaphenelia will soon also be decorating my wall. Maybe I'm in too deep but screw it.

Now I just need to find one of those girlfriends who's willing to play an MMO with you. I don't even like MMO's that much but I hear some women put up with them around here. This is what I am told. After two and a half decades living in the midwest I still find it hard to believe.

Getting Good and Pissed in the Morning

2007-02-07T19:13:30Z

Disgusting.

Jimminy

2007-01-12T18:42:28Z

Oh Wow...

http://haha.nu/amazing/lego-church/

Best Toy Ever...

http://www.zompist.com/rants06.html

Boom, Rectangle Shot!

http://grza.net/GIS/First%20Spawncamp%20Ever.jpg

Dream Dream Dream

2007-01-05T22:35:57Z

Man, rarely do I have dreams that make sense, and even more rarely are they pleasant, so I guess I shouldn't complain. But that dream I had last night had some serious potential but didn't follow through.

Okay here is what I remember. I was married to a young Alyssa Milano. We even had a kid. And somehow I convinced Alyssa that we should have a threesome (two girls, of course). The challenge was that I had to keep her awake and enticed through this whole day long mega sporting even thing in this huge stadium... it had like a basketball game going on and a wrestling match and a baseball game and everything. My whole damn family was there too, everyone getting excited about a certain sporting event but me I wanted it all to be over because afterwards Alyssa and I were going to get our freak on.

Yeah, my dream never did make it to the end of that sporting event. I guess the basketball game was really close.

Christ Am Tired

2006-12-05T18:58:06Z

So I'm playing Zelda last night, I've GOT to finish the dungeon I'm on amirite? When I finish the dungeon there's just one or two quick errands I want to run with my new item, rite rite? Finally I shut the machine off, look at the clock, oh snap it's 3:12 I've gotta get up for work in five hours.

Well five hours that's not bad.

Wish I could have done more than just stare at the ceiling last night.

I was so excited when I came out of a sleep cycle, checked my clock and it was only 7:00 AM, meaning I still had a whole nother hour of sleep.

Then my alarm went off and I wanted to die.

...and I've got so much work to do.

...

napppp....

Phoenix Wrong

2006-11-07T22:12:42Z

I know that many of you haven't played Phoenix Wright yet and probably won't find these funny. And on both counts you should be punished.

But when I was dead tired last night this was the funniest thing in the world to me. Unfortunately after I turned the computer off and tried to go to bed all I could do was stare at the ceiling. I would blame these but what can a guy do?

http://objection.mrdictionary.net/evidence/Videos/Phoenix%20Wrong%201.htm
http://objection.mrdictionary.net/evidence/Videos/Phoenix%20Wrong%202.htm
http://objection.mrdictionary.net/evidence/Videos/Phoenix%20Wrong%203.htm

Also please don't forget the one where Phoenix Wright destroys everything.

Happy Final Fantasy XII Day!

2006-10-31T19:55:33Z

Matsuno stopped by the other day. He was all like, "Seriously, all you naysayers are about to get owned. FFXII is going to rock you so hard."

Then some whiny bitch started complaining about the demo packaged with Dragon Quest VIII and Matsuno promptly killed him with an anime-style move named after some Queen song.

Here's What They Should Do

2006-10-13T22:51:10Z

Given the States' sudden passion for hour long serial dramas, they should give me the rights to Valkyrie Profile so I can turn it into a television show. The formula would be perfect as most episodes could be self contained and deal with the Einherenjar that Lenneth collects and the stories of their deaths, with the episodes being connected by the overarching story of VP: Lenneth. This should happen because Valkyrie Profile is a great little story with great emotional payoff, but Tri-Ace did a pretty crappy job of telling said story, and the English voice acting only made things worse. I swear, Tri-Ace has great concept guys, now they just need to hire a decent writer.

I would make it run for two seasons, because that would be the appropriate amount of time to tell the story. If it was still popular, we just move on to Valkyrie Profile: Silmeria!

I'm telling you I can see it all in my head. The climax would result in hell of payoff.

And just because I'm imagining these things we take a time out to compare the original opening of the PS1 Valkyrie Profile:

...to the opening of the PSP remake!

I like how the PSOne opening has lots of shots of Mystina even though she is not a very nice person ololol.

Thinking of Awesome

2006-10-10T18:19:55Z

So I had a pretty refreshing day one day last week, which was nice, since I was kinda sick and feeling crappy for most of the week. Basically, out of the blue, I got to go see Neil Gaiman read from his new book in Berkeley. Regina's roommate Harry had an extra ticket to an event I didn't even know about and seeing as Neil is one of my favorite storytellers I of course jumped on the opportunity without hesitation.

Anyhoo it was pretty durn awesome. I mean essentially it was just Gaiman standing there, reading stuff from his new book, and answering questions from the crowd. But it was a rather intimate event -- there were only a couple hundred people there -- and Gaiman is a pretty decent public speaker. The best part to me is just hearing an author read his own work. Despite my love of reading (something I haven't been doing enough of lately, considering the last book I went through was during my flight to San Fran) I'm actually a pretty poor interprative reader. Subtleties, thematic elements, subtext... they all zoom right over my head like so much wind. When an author reads his own work, however, there is nothing to miss -- it's spelled out for you. Every inflection, every eye gesture, perfectly translating the author's intentions to you. Now there weren't complex works Mr. Gaiman was sharing with us -- his new book, Fragile Things, is a collection of poems and short stories with a general sense of dark humor permeating through them. Nevertheless, I would have been happy to listen to Neil read these admittedly lightweight stories all night.

The question and answer sessions were also pretty neat. Gaiman is a pretty quick wit on his feet, and it's always fun to get a more personal look into a favorite author's creative process. By the time I left I was reminded of why I enjoyed writing years ago, even if I never particularly cared for (or even loathed) the end results.

Later that same night, Clarence (the "EA Guy") and I did our usual DOA4 online session, except this time we got significantly inebriated in the process. This was a poor idea, all things considered, sin ce I was already feeling pretty crappy that week. But after the session was over (at like 1:00 AM) and as I was ready to go to bed, Clarence and I got locked in conversation. Clarence is typically pretty damn conversational, but all too often said conversations seemed to be centered around his rather defeatist/pessimistic view towards life (which, considering his wealth of talents, isn't a very reasonable attitude from where I'm standing). This night though we were comparing childhood notes. I relayed tales of a childhood teaching myself BASIC on a laptop with a monochrome 60 x 15 resolution screen, developing networked games for my TI-83 calculator, and baking up half-finished RPG engines in Hypercard before I really knew how to program well (and thus the code was a mess). He one-upped me at pretty much every turn, with stories about crafting his own Doom-like 3D engine when Doom was the newest thing or how he wrote up a Tetris game for the same calculators, except his was in Assembly.

Despite his stories being grander than my own, we both marvelled at our days of youth, when we were willing to teach ourselves anything and try and execute everything with no thought to time or effort. Somewhere along the way, through college and work and salaried paychecks, that obsessive drive just seems to seep out bit by bit. Sure, nothing I ever wrote in Jr. High was of publishable quality, no software I ever crafted should have been run on any computer but my own, but that doesn't change the fact that the volume and effort I put out were just staggering. Now, despite having many of the technical skills I would need to find success, getting even a fraction of that inspiration seems like clutching at water.

After all this, I kind of wished I had my iMac up here already. And I kind of just wanted to lock myself in an office for a weekend with a computer, internet access, and a bottle of Knob Creek and see what came of it.

Along those same lines, a small cluster of us went to see The Departed last night, Scorsese's latest, based on the Honk Kong movie Infernal Affairs. It was a pretty solid flick all around, with enough layers that a guy could chew on it in his brain for a while after seeing it. I did just that, and the next thing I knew I had an idea for a game. And the thing is, it's relatively simple enough that I think I want to do a quick and dirty prototype for it. Now all I need is my iMac back.

All this thinking about crime thrillers gave me one heckuva dream too. Basically I was all running a branch of the Yakuza in North Dakota (ya I know like rite?). I was all set-up to get married to this pretty cute Japanese chick, and we were all set to get married in this place where me and my gang had taken out plenty of suckers before. Well wouldn't you know it, right before the wedding my second in command takes a small cluster from my gang and tries to coup me out ( I am pretty slow to figure this out, even though they are shooting at me from the balcony). I am running away when I get to the front door, and there's my bride-to-be, all dressed for her wedding day and clutching a small electric saw.. you know, like the kind you use for tree branch cutting? Well for a second I'm afraid she's in on the coup, but bless her little heart she runs in the building with a big old grin on her face and starts cutting up suckers with that saw.

We get it down to my second in command, who we bring to the entry way stairs (which looks a lot like the entry way in my parent's house). I start going medieval on his head with a hammer, but a few blows in he makes some pretty convincing apologies and I decide to forgive him and I let him up and reinstate him as my right hand man again (even though he's profusely bleeding from the head). There's this old guy, too, who was apparently in on the coup, and I'm all thinking about killing him, but he is old and harmless and seems unphased about what's going on around him probably because he is crazy... so I let him live.

After this, I question my ability to run a gang successfully. Good thing I had a cute Japanese chick who likes to cut up suckers at my side.

duskit @ 2006-09-14T13:21:00

2006-09-14T20:24:40Z

So I've gotten the same curry dish from this place across the street for the last three days. This isn't really a good idea, since I wouldn't want to get sick of it, but it's nice and spicy and leaves my sinuses clear for the rest of the day.

And of course it's tasty, far tastier than I'd expect five dollar curry that takes two minutes to buy to be.

Another Weird Dream...

2006-09-07T18:22:40Z

...that I probably shouldn't write about. Because there are some things you encounter in dreams that you just aren't supposed to admit.

Seriously, by this point in the morning most of the dream has filtered out, so it's not even a good dream recollection anyways. Here's what I remember:

First off, at some point during the dream I am fascinated by how aggressively a bunch of ants are tearing apart some croissants that are scattered around my parents' backyard. What's peculiar is that if a shadow falls on the ants they immediately retreat back into the ground (I can't see any actualy anthills). There are so many ants that just for fun I use a blanket to cast a shadow over and over again, continually fascinated by how they seem to vanish and reappear. By the time I'm done, the entire yard is crawling with ants.

This has nothing to do with the rest of the dream, but I mention it first because it happened at some point in the larger dream narrative, and I can't remember when. Somewhere in the middle methinks.

Anyways, in my dream my father is having a competition with locals for the chance to beat a man with his own penis.

Yes, you read that right. Now you see why I shouldn't be writing this dream down.

But let me elaborate: my father has apparently captured a fugitive and has locked him in a closet in the quonset (a closet that doesn't exist in real life, btw). Because he is apparently an aggressive sexual predator and murderer, dad figured the best way to keep him under control was apparently to cut off his ding dong. ANd now he has decided to have a competition with the locals for the chance to beat this fugitive up with his own surprisingly well preserved wang.

AND FOR SOME REASON I AM COMPETING.

I don't remember the details of the competition. I think hitting cans with golf balls was involved somewhere. But at any rate all us locals are having a great time, and I apparently come out on top. As I'm following dad, EXCITED, into the quonset, I ask him how he had this idea and he just kind of shrugs. Then I ask him how the local authorities would let him do this instead of capturing the criminal, and he kind of shrugs and smiles. And then I ask if the local authorities even know what's going on here and he's all like, "Don't ask."

At this point I become wary, so when Dad finally opens the closet and leaves me and murderer guy alone, I don't beat him up (and how could I, because apparently I forgot to bring the dingdong in with me). Instead I ask for his side of the story. I don't even remember what he told me, but I believe him if only because of my dad's suspicious behavior and decide to help him. How?

BY TAKING HIM TO WORK. Apparently in my dream I have an office, and I just take him in there. Unfortunately it only takes a couple of minutes to find out this guy isn't harmless at all, and that he talks about his list of people he is going to kill, selected seemingly at random, like most people talk about the weather.

When we go home later that day I am all wondering how I am going to take care of this problem. The last thing I remember is having some kind of vague plan, and calling in to work while I was driving to say I would be late.

I kinda wish I knew how this one ended up, but I don't remember. PERHAPS IT IS A VAGUE PIECE OF ART THAT IS TO BE INTERPRETED BY THE BEHOLDER.

I Like'em Those New iMacs

2006-09-06T20:00:28Z

New iMacs?

I like 'em. Apple seems to be pricing more aggressively than usual with the Core 2's, and that $2000 model is pretty spiffy. 24 inch iMac? Awesome.

Truth is, I totally don't need a new computer -- this MacBook Pro will last me for years. Still I was planning for my next purchase to be a MacPro, but looks like I can get a spiffy iMac with as much power as I need for significantly less. You can even get it with a 256MB 7600 GT.

I DO want a new external monitor though.