Seeing as how I've gotten complaints, all from the same person, about my lacking tendency to update this here blog, I hereby declare I will be updating it every single day from now on.
Naturally, this will result in the quality of content dropping and me just posting useless nonsense of no intellectual value that will probably qualify as gossip.
In other words, nothing will change!
Last week I had something of an uncomfortable experience in class. We were being taught the incredibly complicated and ludicrously roundabout art of academic writing. To this end, we were first told to make a mind-map on the subject of football.
There are two problems with this; the first is the fact that I hate mind-maps. They confuse me and give me no incentive whatsoever to be productive in any way, form or fashion. The second is the fact that I have no relationship whatsoever with football. I don't hate it, I don't love it, it just completely falls off my radar. This exercise went poorly.
Our second exercise was to make a list of things that sprung into our mind regarding the subject of Paris. I performed slightly better at this.
Lastly, we were asked to write in a free flowing manner on the subject of parks in cities. Sadly, it was marred by the fact that both the teacher and the rest of the class regarded this method as some kind of unknown monstrosity, never before seen in this part of the world. They all seemed to act as if I was expected to think this was the hardest way of getting off to a start with writing an essay.
Just to clarify, I'm doing it now for christ's sake!
At this point, I had to ask whether or not any of them had ever read a single blog entry in their entire lives. In response to this, they all looked at me as if I had just asked them whether or not they were in the habit of forcefeeding a hamster C4 while jerking off!
Idiots...
måndag 27 september 2010
fredag 13 augusti 2010
An issue of some importance...
This is not something that is very easy to write about, so you will have to be patient. In all honesty, it is not only something very close to my heart, but something very far removed from what, and who, I really am. I do not ask that you understand, I only ask that you listen.
These last few months, I have had dreams of a particular kind. Rather than being the kind of which I have written several times before, these are of a whole nother kind. I may, at times, have mentioned the concept on which they are based; false nostalgia, but lately they have gone from being a source of amusement and fascination to being a horror all of its own.
They are not, as one might think, visions of the way one's own supposed past would look like through the eyes of who one is now. I do not enter them with the mindset of one who has seen many things come and go since the events transpired, and matured in more ways than one. Were you to, at any point, go back and observe key moments of your childhood, you would not find the same awe and grandeur today that you did as a child. The world was a larger and much more impressive place back then.
No! Instead I step into them feeling every bit of the same awe and inspiration as I, supposedly, did when I first experienced them. Joys are as joyful, and enjoyment is just as enjoyable. When I wake up, I do so with a great sorrow in my heart, the kind of sinking feeling one can only get from watching the things one had loved fade away slowly, you being completely unable to do anything about it.
It would not bother me nearly as much were it not for the fact that the visions are not real. They are lies! Deception! But at the time, they felt so vivid, so real. The emotions I felt were not lies, the happiness was genuine, as was the despair that followed.
As I am writing this, the words themselves are fading. How do I describe what I saw?
There was a beach, or rather an entire campground. I was a boy, who's to say how old? My parents were both there, I remember my father particularly fondly. Maybe he had to pay some fee, I don't know. We were all bathing; me, my siblings, even one of my uncles was there.
But there was more to it than that. I made mistakes. There was an elevator that was supposedly out of order, and I feared it. For some reason it descended with a particular type of small figurine set of toys that I loved so when I was a young boy, but I wasn't supposed to have them, and the elevator was not supposed to move.
We all played in the water for a long time. My father, or maybe my uncle, made such a huge splash jumping from a little height that all the water temporarily receded from the lake, but slowly crept back again.
Truth be told, it was our house that lay on the beach of that small lake. It was ours alone, it belonged to no one else. It was my sanctuary, I could go back there and it would belong to us forever.
There were also some kind of camp meetings, and I reminisced about them to one of my cousins, who was also there.
From there, things went wrong. My brother, or perhaps it was my sister, got stuck on the boardwalk outside of the house, then all faded in a particularly strange way. It was not as if an image faded from a paper, it was more like a room of imagination you were in was being gradually razed to reveal reality outside of it's walls.
I cried. I walked from room to room in our house, and it was bigger than I had previously thought. I could not find where my parents slept, and I had done something very wrong. I cried, through it all. All was lost, it was just a fantasy. The scene I had enjoyed so was just part of a dead past that would never ever come back. Our front door no longer was there, because it was no longer our house, it belonged to someone else. I had no sanctuary anymore. I cried.
There was a kite, that I got to fly, and some kind of mechanical plane. They were the last vestiges of the past that I clung to in the hopes of spending just a few more moments in that blessed realm.
When I awoke, it was all gone, it had faded into a strange story of danger and action, but none of that mattered. My childhood was dead forever, and the dream had only afforded me a brief joy just to shatter me with the sorrow that it was all gone.
The dream was not real, but the feelings it left me with were.
Please, I want to go back there...please...
These last few months, I have had dreams of a particular kind. Rather than being the kind of which I have written several times before, these are of a whole nother kind. I may, at times, have mentioned the concept on which they are based; false nostalgia, but lately they have gone from being a source of amusement and fascination to being a horror all of its own.
They are not, as one might think, visions of the way one's own supposed past would look like through the eyes of who one is now. I do not enter them with the mindset of one who has seen many things come and go since the events transpired, and matured in more ways than one. Were you to, at any point, go back and observe key moments of your childhood, you would not find the same awe and grandeur today that you did as a child. The world was a larger and much more impressive place back then.
No! Instead I step into them feeling every bit of the same awe and inspiration as I, supposedly, did when I first experienced them. Joys are as joyful, and enjoyment is just as enjoyable. When I wake up, I do so with a great sorrow in my heart, the kind of sinking feeling one can only get from watching the things one had loved fade away slowly, you being completely unable to do anything about it.
It would not bother me nearly as much were it not for the fact that the visions are not real. They are lies! Deception! But at the time, they felt so vivid, so real. The emotions I felt were not lies, the happiness was genuine, as was the despair that followed.
As I am writing this, the words themselves are fading. How do I describe what I saw?
There was a beach, or rather an entire campground. I was a boy, who's to say how old? My parents were both there, I remember my father particularly fondly. Maybe he had to pay some fee, I don't know. We were all bathing; me, my siblings, even one of my uncles was there.
But there was more to it than that. I made mistakes. There was an elevator that was supposedly out of order, and I feared it. For some reason it descended with a particular type of small figurine set of toys that I loved so when I was a young boy, but I wasn't supposed to have them, and the elevator was not supposed to move.
We all played in the water for a long time. My father, or maybe my uncle, made such a huge splash jumping from a little height that all the water temporarily receded from the lake, but slowly crept back again.
Truth be told, it was our house that lay on the beach of that small lake. It was ours alone, it belonged to no one else. It was my sanctuary, I could go back there and it would belong to us forever.
There were also some kind of camp meetings, and I reminisced about them to one of my cousins, who was also there.
From there, things went wrong. My brother, or perhaps it was my sister, got stuck on the boardwalk outside of the house, then all faded in a particularly strange way. It was not as if an image faded from a paper, it was more like a room of imagination you were in was being gradually razed to reveal reality outside of it's walls.
I cried. I walked from room to room in our house, and it was bigger than I had previously thought. I could not find where my parents slept, and I had done something very wrong. I cried, through it all. All was lost, it was just a fantasy. The scene I had enjoyed so was just part of a dead past that would never ever come back. Our front door no longer was there, because it was no longer our house, it belonged to someone else. I had no sanctuary anymore. I cried.
There was a kite, that I got to fly, and some kind of mechanical plane. They were the last vestiges of the past that I clung to in the hopes of spending just a few more moments in that blessed realm.
When I awoke, it was all gone, it had faded into a strange story of danger and action, but none of that mattered. My childhood was dead forever, and the dream had only afforded me a brief joy just to shatter me with the sorrow that it was all gone.
The dream was not real, but the feelings it left me with were.
Please, I want to go back there...please...
fredag 2 juli 2010
DDT Revisited!...again
And now, ladies and gentlemen, you will witness the long overdue return of Drwhyn's Drink Time (DDT)!
In this issue, we'll look into the mad, the bad and the downright brilliant in the way of alcoholic beverages! So hold on to your hats, and let's get them rolling!
First off, the bad:
Cassiliero Del Diablo; you've probably seen the advertisement, and for some odd reason I decided to pick up a small bottle of this as my first real foray into red wines. Safe to say, it's bad, just plain bad. It has no distinctive features whatsoever, and even though it was supposed to have a tangible fullness to it, I've had glasses of water that fit that criteria better. Don't buy it!
Serve at room temperature.
Chapel Hill; a sparkling wine along the lines of Asti, only without all the flavour. Another one that's completely unremarkable, you forgot it ever touched your tongue half a second after you swallowed it.
Serve chilled.
Port; no, just no. It's oily, has some odd wicked sweetness to it, and the flavour can best be described as freshly polished wooden furniture. Stay away from this one at all cost! For some reason, my mother rather enjoyed it, but I found it utterly impossible to get down my throat. If you let it linger on your tongue for a moment, the wooden aftertaste will make you wretch.
Preferably don't serve at all.
Martini Vermouth; See "Port". Also, I spilled a glass of it onto my Economics book; the paper still smelled exactly the same.
There, feels so much better now we've got those out of our system, doesn't it?
Moving on to the brilliant:
Cinzano Asti; a sparkling white wine that is just about everything champagne should be, but isn't. It's sweet, a little dry and very refreshing. It's the kind of thing you can sip for hours without ever getting tired of it. I recommend you try it as an alternative to champagne for big celebrations, as it's just that much more appealing in every way. Also, make sure it's the Cinzano one, and not Martini, because the Martini one, while by no means bad, is not of the same order. This is a must-buy for both cozy friday evenings and festive occasions.
Serve chilled!
Macleod's Whisky Trail; it's a collection of six small bottles of whisky, ranging from the very smoothest to the very peatiest. Not too expensive, and excellent for anyone who wishes to delve into the rich world of scotch without having to buy big bottles of each type. It's a rather representative collection of different kinds of whisky, and really another must-have for anyone who enjoys his, or her, spirits. It's quite simply put; wonderful!
Serve at room temperature; whisky suffers, as has been explained in earlier editions, from both too high and too low temperature, so make sure you keep the bottle someplace that's not too hot and not too cold.
That's all for this edition of Drwhyn's Drink Time (DDT), stay tuned for more, very soon!
In this issue, we'll look into the mad, the bad and the downright brilliant in the way of alcoholic beverages! So hold on to your hats, and let's get them rolling!
First off, the bad:
Cassiliero Del Diablo; you've probably seen the advertisement, and for some odd reason I decided to pick up a small bottle of this as my first real foray into red wines. Safe to say, it's bad, just plain bad. It has no distinctive features whatsoever, and even though it was supposed to have a tangible fullness to it, I've had glasses of water that fit that criteria better. Don't buy it!
Serve at room temperature.
Chapel Hill; a sparkling wine along the lines of Asti, only without all the flavour. Another one that's completely unremarkable, you forgot it ever touched your tongue half a second after you swallowed it.
Serve chilled.
Port; no, just no. It's oily, has some odd wicked sweetness to it, and the flavour can best be described as freshly polished wooden furniture. Stay away from this one at all cost! For some reason, my mother rather enjoyed it, but I found it utterly impossible to get down my throat. If you let it linger on your tongue for a moment, the wooden aftertaste will make you wretch.
Preferably don't serve at all.
Martini Vermouth; See "Port". Also, I spilled a glass of it onto my Economics book; the paper still smelled exactly the same.
There, feels so much better now we've got those out of our system, doesn't it?
Moving on to the brilliant:
Cinzano Asti; a sparkling white wine that is just about everything champagne should be, but isn't. It's sweet, a little dry and very refreshing. It's the kind of thing you can sip for hours without ever getting tired of it. I recommend you try it as an alternative to champagne for big celebrations, as it's just that much more appealing in every way. Also, make sure it's the Cinzano one, and not Martini, because the Martini one, while by no means bad, is not of the same order. This is a must-buy for both cozy friday evenings and festive occasions.
Serve chilled!
Macleod's Whisky Trail; it's a collection of six small bottles of whisky, ranging from the very smoothest to the very peatiest. Not too expensive, and excellent for anyone who wishes to delve into the rich world of scotch without having to buy big bottles of each type. It's a rather representative collection of different kinds of whisky, and really another must-have for anyone who enjoys his, or her, spirits. It's quite simply put; wonderful!
Serve at room temperature; whisky suffers, as has been explained in earlier editions, from both too high and too low temperature, so make sure you keep the bottle someplace that's not too hot and not too cold.
That's all for this edition of Drwhyn's Drink Time (DDT), stay tuned for more, very soon!
tisdag 11 maj 2010
Game Developers!
Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking; not another one about game developers. Well, here's what I'm thinking: This is me blogging, not you, shut up!
So anyway, with quite a few high profile releases having come out over the past couple of year that illustrate all the highs and lows of video game development, let us have a look at the big do's and don't's of the industry!
First of all, there are a number of things that add up to a complete video game, from a developer's standpoint. There is the story, the gameplay mechanics, the coding, the graphics and the sound department. Now, unsurprisingly enough, the big cruncher in actually making a game is how well the developers manage to balance the different factors into an end product.
If you look at any modern gaming catalogue, you'll find games with highly variable balance in this respect; there are games that are extremely well coded, but have gameplay that amounts to no more than a shit'n'chips sundae. Conversely, that are games that are so pretty any gamer will instantly want to have children with it, but is so badly coded that you run of the risk of causing a time-altering paradox destroying the universe, and crashing the game, if you so much as use the quickload button at the wrong moment.
Now, I'm not saying there must always be an absolutely even balance between them, because I'm not, and if you think I am you are clearly incredibly thick and shouldn't be entrusted with going to the lavatory by yourself for fear of you somehow drowning in the toilet! Rather, developers that try to achieve perfect balance is going to end up in that ninth level of hell that belongs to "People who make games that does everything poorly and nothing fucking well". As I've said before, alot can be made of a finely crafted plot that ties everything together and where everything makes sense without feeling predictable, but if you stick that into a game where the fun is derived entirely from running over old ladies while surfing on top of a car and shooting a rocket launcher at innocent bystanders it's just going to make you look like a fucking pretentious prat, which you are!
Case #1: S.T.A.L.K.E.R: Shadow of Chernobyl
The game looks more gorgeous than that classmate you always had a crush on, and has more atmosphere than jupiter, but there's just something odd about the game, namely the fucking atrocious coding. A game that constantly crashes and in which enemies can't decide if they love you or should ejaculate lead straight into your bloodstream in the middle of firefights is not bloody good! I don't know about you, but I've grown slightly tired of the old Oblivion-finger, namely that physical deformity that comes as a direct consequence of having to quicksave every .0 seconds for fear of losing progress when the game all of a sudden realizes that you're playing and decides that it's gonna have none of that, no siree!
Case #2: Saint's Row 2
Yet another game with coding that is simply a fucking pile of steaming garbage, but this time with developers who know what it is they are trying to accomplish. The story is at best a shallow and irrelevant necessity that you use to distract you inbetween butchering innocent bystanders and clearing out entire fortresses of goons with just your extremely overpowered pistols with infinite range, ammo and auto aiming (Yes, that's right, auto aim, even in the PC port), and at worst a shallow and irrelevant necessity that smells. Thing is, the story seems to be aware of that you're not expected to give a shit about it, and thus decides to take the scenic route by having you mow down an extraordinary number of enemies at every turn without all the action being hogged up by cutscenes (Yes, I'm looking at you, Metal Gear Solid...fuckers...). It's neither a smart game, nor a sophisticated one, but it's not trying to be! It's trying to be mindless fun, with things like jumping in front of cars for insurance money and riding around town hosing it down with feces to lower property value! Mindless fucking fun! Which brings us to...
Case #3: GTA IV
Here we're looking at something with the potential of being one of the best releases of the decade, expanding upon all the things that made the GTA series great and making full use of the current hardware to deliver an experience that amounts to nothing less than the gaming equivalent of an orgasm!...or possibly not just the equivalent...
Problem? It doesn't.
It's just one of those games that doesn't deliver at all. What made the previous GTA games good? As I've said countless times; Mindless fucking fun! What did not make the previous GTA games good? Trying to woo a boring middle-aged housewife and constantly getting phoned by your cousin to go play darts with him!
Quite clearly, Rockstar knew perfectly well what it was that made GTA III great, managed to distill it down to the pure essence of awesomeness, and then poured all of it down the drain in favour of a bland, dull and brown mess that had none of the appeal of it's predecessors. Largely, it boils down to that Rockstar somehow forgot all about the point of the series, that elusive Mindless fucking Fun, and instead opted for a more realistic depiction of life in a big american city seen with the eyes of a disillusioned immigrant. Who the fuck wants that?! Who wants to play a game wherein the main character has a life that is no better than yours or mine, and is boring as all hell to boot?
Sure, you can watch television and take your cousin out for drinks and drive home drunk as a lord, but who on earth would ever want that out of a game? Games are played for escapism, people don't play games to experience the very things people desperately want to run away from in real life, dammit!
The world would be a much better place if developers could simply get it into their immensely thick heads that the primary objective of any game is fun, and it shouldn't be fucking compromised by realism, or anything else that they ought to know doesn't belong!
So anyway, with quite a few high profile releases having come out over the past couple of year that illustrate all the highs and lows of video game development, let us have a look at the big do's and don't's of the industry!
First of all, there are a number of things that add up to a complete video game, from a developer's standpoint. There is the story, the gameplay mechanics, the coding, the graphics and the sound department. Now, unsurprisingly enough, the big cruncher in actually making a game is how well the developers manage to balance the different factors into an end product.
If you look at any modern gaming catalogue, you'll find games with highly variable balance in this respect; there are games that are extremely well coded, but have gameplay that amounts to no more than a shit'n'chips sundae. Conversely, that are games that are so pretty any gamer will instantly want to have children with it, but is so badly coded that you run of the risk of causing a time-altering paradox destroying the universe, and crashing the game, if you so much as use the quickload button at the wrong moment.
Now, I'm not saying there must always be an absolutely even balance between them, because I'm not, and if you think I am you are clearly incredibly thick and shouldn't be entrusted with going to the lavatory by yourself for fear of you somehow drowning in the toilet! Rather, developers that try to achieve perfect balance is going to end up in that ninth level of hell that belongs to "People who make games that does everything poorly and nothing fucking well". As I've said before, alot can be made of a finely crafted plot that ties everything together and where everything makes sense without feeling predictable, but if you stick that into a game where the fun is derived entirely from running over old ladies while surfing on top of a car and shooting a rocket launcher at innocent bystanders it's just going to make you look like a fucking pretentious prat, which you are!
Case #1: S.T.A.L.K.E.R: Shadow of Chernobyl
The game looks more gorgeous than that classmate you always had a crush on, and has more atmosphere than jupiter, but there's just something odd about the game, namely the fucking atrocious coding. A game that constantly crashes and in which enemies can't decide if they love you or should ejaculate lead straight into your bloodstream in the middle of firefights is not bloody good! I don't know about you, but I've grown slightly tired of the old Oblivion-finger, namely that physical deformity that comes as a direct consequence of having to quicksave every .0 seconds for fear of losing progress when the game all of a sudden realizes that you're playing and decides that it's gonna have none of that, no siree!
Case #2: Saint's Row 2
Yet another game with coding that is simply a fucking pile of steaming garbage, but this time with developers who know what it is they are trying to accomplish. The story is at best a shallow and irrelevant necessity that you use to distract you inbetween butchering innocent bystanders and clearing out entire fortresses of goons with just your extremely overpowered pistols with infinite range, ammo and auto aiming (Yes, that's right, auto aim, even in the PC port), and at worst a shallow and irrelevant necessity that smells. Thing is, the story seems to be aware of that you're not expected to give a shit about it, and thus decides to take the scenic route by having you mow down an extraordinary number of enemies at every turn without all the action being hogged up by cutscenes (Yes, I'm looking at you, Metal Gear Solid...fuckers...). It's neither a smart game, nor a sophisticated one, but it's not trying to be! It's trying to be mindless fun, with things like jumping in front of cars for insurance money and riding around town hosing it down with feces to lower property value! Mindless fucking fun! Which brings us to...
Case #3: GTA IV
Here we're looking at something with the potential of being one of the best releases of the decade, expanding upon all the things that made the GTA series great and making full use of the current hardware to deliver an experience that amounts to nothing less than the gaming equivalent of an orgasm!...or possibly not just the equivalent...
Problem? It doesn't.
It's just one of those games that doesn't deliver at all. What made the previous GTA games good? As I've said countless times; Mindless fucking fun! What did not make the previous GTA games good? Trying to woo a boring middle-aged housewife and constantly getting phoned by your cousin to go play darts with him!
Quite clearly, Rockstar knew perfectly well what it was that made GTA III great, managed to distill it down to the pure essence of awesomeness, and then poured all of it down the drain in favour of a bland, dull and brown mess that had none of the appeal of it's predecessors. Largely, it boils down to that Rockstar somehow forgot all about the point of the series, that elusive Mindless fucking Fun, and instead opted for a more realistic depiction of life in a big american city seen with the eyes of a disillusioned immigrant. Who the fuck wants that?! Who wants to play a game wherein the main character has a life that is no better than yours or mine, and is boring as all hell to boot?
Sure, you can watch television and take your cousin out for drinks and drive home drunk as a lord, but who on earth would ever want that out of a game? Games are played for escapism, people don't play games to experience the very things people desperately want to run away from in real life, dammit!
The world would be a much better place if developers could simply get it into their immensely thick heads that the primary objective of any game is fun, and it shouldn't be fucking compromised by realism, or anything else that they ought to know doesn't belong!
onsdag 5 maj 2010
Religion!
Now is that most special time of year; the time when I decide to say nasty things about religion and religious people.
First of all, what is religion? It is something that is very suitable for the large parts of the human race that favour bandwagons, hating those who are not on the bandwagon, and following ridiculous arbitrary rules and limitations. Also, and this is the part that bugs me, there existing no vertical discussion whatsoever.
Let's look at a piece of the Bible, that I find to perfectly illustrate the lack of critical thinking involved in religion!
Once upon a time, much earlier than last wednesday, there once was a man named Saul. He spent his days, merrily and gayly persecuting christians. In essence, he tried to kill them all, and since I've never been known to be above the odd dick-joke, I say it was because he was compensating for something...you know what!
But, see, his chosen line of profession had run into some difficulties; the christians were getting awfully numerous, and as any great persecutor will tell you, times are not necessarily good to you, if the persecutees outnumber the persecutors ten to one.
Thusly, all of a sudden, literally out of the blue, he had an epiphany! A, literally, blinding light struck him, and god told him to stop being such a fucking tosser to his babies.
Afterwards, he went and met with some of the people who he had been trying to butcher. He told them that he had received a vision from god, but that it had unfortunately made him blind as a bat. Here comes the funny part though; the idiots actually believed him. More stunning is, after them having prayed abit for him, he proclaimed that he could see again! What a bloody miracle, you don't find it at all a tad too convenient that he suddenly appeared to have gained absolution, a most fitting argument as to why they oughtn't lynch him?
If it had been me, I would have been slightly wary of Hitler suddenly walking into my living room, telling me that god had made him see the error of his ways, at a time when his chosen direction in life would have meant he'd most likely be hanged.
You don't suppose, just maybe, that Saul was feigning the blindness, and then claiming to have been cured by prayer, when he in fact had 20/20 vision all along, just so he could claim he had in fact been forgiven by the lord?
Of course, the problem with this line of reasoning is that it is contrary to doctrine, and ultimately, priests like sticking with doctrine, and equally ultimately, religious people will side with the fellow in the frock, if things get to a head. The example I have brought up, is just one bit where maybe the reader shouldn't be so utterly naive to believe every single word written, and perhaps not take something that can't possibly be verified scientifically, as gospel (pun intended).
Now, christians can sometimes shift their position, and decide that parts of the Bible are only metaphorical, and do not represent reliable historical facts. But surely, that's just a big cop-out, after all, if the Bible truly was the eternal word of god, surely he'd be able to put a note in the margin, regarding whether or not particularly silly bits are metaphorical or not.
Here's what I wish all religious individuals would do; read their respective holy scripture, and after every sentence just stop for a moment, to reflect on how that would have worked in practical terms, what the logic behind it is, or whether or not what is written is clearly silly. Read the part about Moses parting the Red Sea, and wonder how on earth they could just walk across the sea floor for miles and miles without the egyptians catching up until just after they had all passed it, or how it would have affected the surrounding area, that obviously was not exactly built to accommodate a huge corridor in the middle of the Red Sea being magically dried out.
Think, dammit, think!
First of all, what is religion? It is something that is very suitable for the large parts of the human race that favour bandwagons, hating those who are not on the bandwagon, and following ridiculous arbitrary rules and limitations. Also, and this is the part that bugs me, there existing no vertical discussion whatsoever.
Let's look at a piece of the Bible, that I find to perfectly illustrate the lack of critical thinking involved in religion!
Once upon a time, much earlier than last wednesday, there once was a man named Saul. He spent his days, merrily and gayly persecuting christians. In essence, he tried to kill them all, and since I've never been known to be above the odd dick-joke, I say it was because he was compensating for something...you know what!
But, see, his chosen line of profession had run into some difficulties; the christians were getting awfully numerous, and as any great persecutor will tell you, times are not necessarily good to you, if the persecutees outnumber the persecutors ten to one.
Thusly, all of a sudden, literally out of the blue, he had an epiphany! A, literally, blinding light struck him, and god told him to stop being such a fucking tosser to his babies.
Afterwards, he went and met with some of the people who he had been trying to butcher. He told them that he had received a vision from god, but that it had unfortunately made him blind as a bat. Here comes the funny part though; the idiots actually believed him. More stunning is, after them having prayed abit for him, he proclaimed that he could see again! What a bloody miracle, you don't find it at all a tad too convenient that he suddenly appeared to have gained absolution, a most fitting argument as to why they oughtn't lynch him?
If it had been me, I would have been slightly wary of Hitler suddenly walking into my living room, telling me that god had made him see the error of his ways, at a time when his chosen direction in life would have meant he'd most likely be hanged.
You don't suppose, just maybe, that Saul was feigning the blindness, and then claiming to have been cured by prayer, when he in fact had 20/20 vision all along, just so he could claim he had in fact been forgiven by the lord?
Of course, the problem with this line of reasoning is that it is contrary to doctrine, and ultimately, priests like sticking with doctrine, and equally ultimately, religious people will side with the fellow in the frock, if things get to a head. The example I have brought up, is just one bit where maybe the reader shouldn't be so utterly naive to believe every single word written, and perhaps not take something that can't possibly be verified scientifically, as gospel (pun intended).
Now, christians can sometimes shift their position, and decide that parts of the Bible are only metaphorical, and do not represent reliable historical facts. But surely, that's just a big cop-out, after all, if the Bible truly was the eternal word of god, surely he'd be able to put a note in the margin, regarding whether or not particularly silly bits are metaphorical or not.
Here's what I wish all religious individuals would do; read their respective holy scripture, and after every sentence just stop for a moment, to reflect on how that would have worked in practical terms, what the logic behind it is, or whether or not what is written is clearly silly. Read the part about Moses parting the Red Sea, and wonder how on earth they could just walk across the sea floor for miles and miles without the egyptians catching up until just after they had all passed it, or how it would have affected the surrounding area, that obviously was not exactly built to accommodate a huge corridor in the middle of the Red Sea being magically dried out.
Think, dammit, think!
torsdag 22 april 2010
Fun! Fun! Fun!
Let's get one thing straight right away; I'm a nerd. Yes, a nerd, that subsection of the human race that is commonly spurned by the rest, and usually considered beyond redemption.
Furthermore, I'm a computer nerd. Yes, a computer nerd, that most annoying subspecies of nerds, scorned and outcast from all the rest of nerddom for the complete and utter dedication to computer technology.
What's more, I'm a computer game nerd. Yes, a computer game nerd, the deranged secteric group hated by all others for the lack of complete and utter dedication to complete and utter boredom.
What am I, as a computer game nerd, looking for in life? What is it I want?
In a word; fun!
I want to have fun. I want to enjoy myself, laugh, be excited and blow shit up, lots of shit!
There are many different kinds of fun; the sublime pleasure one gets from taking part in a well crafted overarching storyline; the exhilarating rush of narrowly beating a challenge; the emotional satisfaction of being part of something great! But, perhaps most importantly of all, there is the mad, reptilebrainy, joy of ruthless and completely pointless destruction, mayhem and wreaking of ultimate havoc! Now, I don't mind following a linear sequence of events, or having little choice in what to actually do, so I decide to now and then play Half-Life 2 for 30 minutes or so, but I keep coming back to sandbox carnage!
Who really gives a toss about a well-written story or believable interaction between main characters when you can run up the wall of the highest skyscraper in New York, launch yourself straight towards the ground and land face first on top of an M1 tank, throwing the now burned out husk of the tank at an army helicopter, the destruction of which attracts another helicopter, which you hijack by pulling yourself up to it by way of your mutated upper extremity, flying to the nearest military base, jumping out of the helicopter to land next to the base's commander, eating him to get his keys, infiltrating the base, killing everyone in it with a blade that comes out of your arm, then exiting the base only to hijack another helicopter, use it to blow up the base, then eat any civilians who happened to be out for an afternoon stroll in the vicinity?
DAMN, FREEDOM ROCKS!
To, probably not, be continued...
Furthermore, I'm a computer nerd. Yes, a computer nerd, that most annoying subspecies of nerds, scorned and outcast from all the rest of nerddom for the complete and utter dedication to computer technology.
What's more, I'm a computer game nerd. Yes, a computer game nerd, the deranged secteric group hated by all others for the lack of complete and utter dedication to complete and utter boredom.
What am I, as a computer game nerd, looking for in life? What is it I want?
In a word; fun!
I want to have fun. I want to enjoy myself, laugh, be excited and blow shit up, lots of shit!
There are many different kinds of fun; the sublime pleasure one gets from taking part in a well crafted overarching storyline; the exhilarating rush of narrowly beating a challenge; the emotional satisfaction of being part of something great! But, perhaps most importantly of all, there is the mad, reptilebrainy, joy of ruthless and completely pointless destruction, mayhem and wreaking of ultimate havoc! Now, I don't mind following a linear sequence of events, or having little choice in what to actually do, so I decide to now and then play Half-Life 2 for 30 minutes or so, but I keep coming back to sandbox carnage!
Who really gives a toss about a well-written story or believable interaction between main characters when you can run up the wall of the highest skyscraper in New York, launch yourself straight towards the ground and land face first on top of an M1 tank, throwing the now burned out husk of the tank at an army helicopter, the destruction of which attracts another helicopter, which you hijack by pulling yourself up to it by way of your mutated upper extremity, flying to the nearest military base, jumping out of the helicopter to land next to the base's commander, eating him to get his keys, infiltrating the base, killing everyone in it with a blade that comes out of your arm, then exiting the base only to hijack another helicopter, use it to blow up the base, then eat any civilians who happened to be out for an afternoon stroll in the vicinity?
DAMN, FREEDOM ROCKS!
To, probably not, be continued...
lördag 27 mars 2010
Lots of stuff!
Alright, got alot of catching up to do, so let's get to it!
First point on the agenda; Lost. Hasn't it occurred to anyone that that show is absolutely fucking bananas? It's nuts! Crazy! Insane! It doesn't jump the shark, it flies constantly above it, on a pig! How can someone watch that useless crap?! There is no message behind it, there's no logic, there's just a bunch of incredibly incompetent writers who make up shit in exchange for a paycheck! It doesn't make any fucking sense whatsoever!
Second order of business; Batman: Arkham Asylum! How on earth did that game come to be? It's abso-fucking-lutely brilliant! The graphics, the animations, the controls, the characters, the story, it's just so incredibly great! So how on earth did the developers let this happen? A game of this quality comes around once every decade, if we're lucky, and between them the developers seem to just be phoning it in with every possible bit of the design on all other games.
Take Far Cry 2, for instance. The graphics and physics were some of the best I've ever seen. What was the problem? Everything else! The characterization wasn't there. There were supposed to be two different factions to work for, but since every single person outside of the main town was out to kill YOU, and do nothing else at all than kill YOU, you didn't really notice much difference apart from which building across the street you picked up the quests from
The natives never ever fought amongst themselves, there was complete peace and order in the little african country until you showed up, and anyone you encounter in the entire game will drop everything they're doing to hunt you down and kill you if they so much as get a whiff of your cologne!
Let's also look at Command & Conquer 4!
The earlier games in the series were built on the basis of building basic bases, basically, then training tonnes of troops to beat the enemy into submission with, all the while balancing offense and defense, managing your economy and enjoying the slaughter.
So, seeing as how this model had been so successful in the past, naturally EALA went and changed it completely.
Base-building? Gone, you now get exactly ONE structure, which is an MCV that conveniently builds all your units.
Economy? Gone, the game has no economic system at all, beyond you having to gather small tiberium samples to fund your research of new technologies, where one single crystal let's you research about half of all the potential technology in three seconds.
Large armies? Gone, you get a ridiculous population limit, so instead of a huge army of troops, you can get six tanks and three soldiers. Thus, any battle becomes a question of just churning out a steady stream of units rather than actually having something that at least remotely resembles an army.
Big-name actors? Gone, apart from Kane himself, there isn't a single face you'll ever recognize in any of the cutscenes.
So, apparently, EALA knew perfectly well which bits made Command & Conquer good, isolated them, and then burned them under ritual circumstances to make sure it would never affect the development of Command & Conquer 4.
You fucking whankers!
First point on the agenda; Lost. Hasn't it occurred to anyone that that show is absolutely fucking bananas? It's nuts! Crazy! Insane! It doesn't jump the shark, it flies constantly above it, on a pig! How can someone watch that useless crap?! There is no message behind it, there's no logic, there's just a bunch of incredibly incompetent writers who make up shit in exchange for a paycheck! It doesn't make any fucking sense whatsoever!
Second order of business; Batman: Arkham Asylum! How on earth did that game come to be? It's abso-fucking-lutely brilliant! The graphics, the animations, the controls, the characters, the story, it's just so incredibly great! So how on earth did the developers let this happen? A game of this quality comes around once every decade, if we're lucky, and between them the developers seem to just be phoning it in with every possible bit of the design on all other games.
Take Far Cry 2, for instance. The graphics and physics were some of the best I've ever seen. What was the problem? Everything else! The characterization wasn't there. There were supposed to be two different factions to work for, but since every single person outside of the main town was out to kill YOU, and do nothing else at all than kill YOU, you didn't really notice much difference apart from which building across the street you picked up the quests from
The natives never ever fought amongst themselves, there was complete peace and order in the little african country until you showed up, and anyone you encounter in the entire game will drop everything they're doing to hunt you down and kill you if they so much as get a whiff of your cologne!
Let's also look at Command & Conquer 4!
The earlier games in the series were built on the basis of building basic bases, basically, then training tonnes of troops to beat the enemy into submission with, all the while balancing offense and defense, managing your economy and enjoying the slaughter.
So, seeing as how this model had been so successful in the past, naturally EALA went and changed it completely.
Base-building? Gone, you now get exactly ONE structure, which is an MCV that conveniently builds all your units.
Economy? Gone, the game has no economic system at all, beyond you having to gather small tiberium samples to fund your research of new technologies, where one single crystal let's you research about half of all the potential technology in three seconds.
Large armies? Gone, you get a ridiculous population limit, so instead of a huge army of troops, you can get six tanks and three soldiers. Thus, any battle becomes a question of just churning out a steady stream of units rather than actually having something that at least remotely resembles an army.
Big-name actors? Gone, apart from Kane himself, there isn't a single face you'll ever recognize in any of the cutscenes.
So, apparently, EALA knew perfectly well which bits made Command & Conquer good, isolated them, and then burned them under ritual circumstances to make sure it would never affect the development of Command & Conquer 4.
You fucking whankers!
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