Friday, August 27, 2010

Days

My friend once said ‘In three words I sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on. We owe it to ourselves to make our days count. Keep living.

She’s right. Life does go on, and you do have to make your days count. I haven’t really grasped the concept of moving on. Changing myself because everything around me is changing too. Am I afraid?

Maybe.

Am I ready? I don’t know. That’s the only real answer I have right now to any questions I ask myself considering my future; the years ahead and how tough or enjoyable they may be. I just don’t know, and its a painful thing to tell myself, but I don’t see another one popping up.

You tell yourself, ‘stop thinking so much’, ‘stop being so sentimental,’ just focus on the ‘positives.’ I wish that in some way, being emotionally distant to those I care about will make it any easier to change. To grow up. It’s all part of the process though. Always has been, always will be. It’s almost a universal truth, and at least that I do know.

So if I say we should stop thinking so much, I’m lying. Keep thinking. Continue to ask questions, because how the hell else are you going to find answers? It may take a couple months, couple years. It may be still taking time to find out what they are, but we find them. And then, you have nothing else to do but to ask another one.

And I guess that’s how you start changing.

Sentimentality is a bitch. But its a necessary one. Can I blame you for holding onto as many feelings as you possibly can?

No, I can’t. It’s not my place. I hold on to them too, because I’m scared. Not about losing them, but wondering what they’ll do to me. It’s counter-intuitive and stupid, but you don’t let those kinds of things go. You just don’t.

It’s the same with people, but unfortunately they aren’t distant memories in your mind, they’re personalities. Experiences. Support. They’re friends that you’ve done more than you can fathom with, and suddenly they go away. With a snap. Blink and they’re gone. And now they are what you wanted them to be, a memory, because that way, you can hold on to them.

When it hits you, it hits you though.

So, was I ready?

No. Not one bit. I can expect more of it to come though. What should I do? Brace myself? What with. Try to maintain the connection I’ve taken for granted for whatever number of years and savour its last days? No, I think I’m done with that too.

I’ve lost enough connections to see its uselessness.

So this is where my friend is right; life does go on, with or without you.

Are you going to catch up? Or stay in one place until before long everyone and everything has gone up ahead?

What you do is you deal with it. Take the pain, stop sulking, and deal with it. Life is unfair, you’re going to take bullshit from an endless amount of people, events, and circumstances. Things will look bleak, meaningless, and unimportant. Hell, you’ll feel unimportant. More so they you probably already do. You know why?

Cause that’s life. Fight it or run with it.

And you can take as many memories, feelings, sentiments and experiences with you.

When those people eventually leave, there are ways to keep them alongside you. When life beats you down, takes your wallet, and leaves you for dead, close your eyes and remember.

Why you’re running in the first place, trying to catch up. Why they left, you stayed, and nothing seems right. Why you can’t bring what you once were back to the surface, because its long gone. Why you changed.

By now, you’ve figured out the answers.

So open your eyes and ask, 'Any more questions?'

Friday, August 13, 2010

Wasted (Part 2)

Read Wasted (Part 1) Here.
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Run.

The three letter word that had been fixed in Yan’s ears ever since his childhood, ever since the First Event, ever since he knew how to think and move, talk and breathe. It was the only word that never failed him, and the only word he knew he could rely on.

It was the only thing Yan knew how to do, and soon it became the only thing he did.

He remembered the explosion, the scorching heat that blew his hair back and closed his eyes shut. Through the blazing heat that he could almost hear burning everyone and everything around him, he heard his mother yell with a thundering voice.

“Run.”

So he did. He ran as far away as possible. He turned his back on his people, his family, and his past. Yan’s eyes never opened after that explosion. He didn’t see where he was running—he didn’t know.

“Yan.”

He looked at Melanie, who had stopped the car on the side of the deserted road. He looked out the windshield, and a decaying corpse was a few feet in front of them. The flies buzzed around it and a few landed on the windshield and scattered around. Yan put a finger on the other side of the windshield, and the fly stopped.

“Yan!”

Melanie’s voice was muffled under a gas mask. She had opened her door and put it on, and was now staring at Yan as his trance with the fly was broken by her voice.

“Get out. We must clear the body off the road.”

“Yeah.”

Melanie had not spoken to Yan the three hours they had driven down the isolated two-way road. She had sneezed a few times; that made Yan smile but he hid it by continuing to look at the farmland as they drove past. Above the hilly terrain rose pillars of black and grey smoke from as far as Yan could see. His eyes glazed over as he thought about the piles of burning corpses. Reading their faces, expressions—trying to examine their last words, thoughts, feelings. Yan had a tendency to do that, in a past life. A life he ran away from.

A life Melanie was bringing him back to. Who is this girl? Yan knew of molecular biologists, even European ones, but one this young was strange. She was at most 25. Yan himself was only 28, and he had never finished university. The First Event occurred too soon for him to graduate, as the university was disintegrated, along with everything else.

Did she survive it? Like me? Yan’s eyes regained their focus and he passed one final pillar of smoke, this time he could see where it was coming from. Another corpse pile, bigger than any he had ever seen. Even from the road and speeding past it in the car, Yan could see the faces. He could see the pasts that were lived, the futures unlived, feelings and thoughts. Cries. Yan buried his head in his hands once again, and began slowly rocking back and forth in his seat.

Melanie looked at him. But before she could say anything, she saw the sign.

‘Welcome to New California. Population, 45 million.’

“Non plus.”

Three hours later, Yan was slowly out of his seat and opening the door, leaving the flies on the windshield.

“Gas mask.”

“I don’t need one,” Yan said with a dead voice.

They both approached the corpse cautiously. Melanie had her crossbow extended, aiming it straight at the corpse’s head. Yan paused six inches from the head. He bent down, and immediately, he could feel it.

“Marauders?” Melanie asked.

“No.” Yan stood up. “Something else.”

Melanie put down her crossbow and stared into Yan’s eyes.

“Not Gassers either. They wouldn’t leave it here.”

Melanie looked around the surrounding land. The hills seemed pitch-black, and the scarce trees fluttered their leaves in the wind.

“Quick. Before Ferals come,” Melanie said, shouldering her crossbow.

Yan complied and took the hind legs of the creature as Melanie took the front. Slowly, they dragged the creature, which weighed at least five hundred pounds, slowly closer to the edge of the road. The pace was stressful. Each fluttering of leaves, cricket chirp and gust of night wind made Yan sweat and dart his eyes in every direction. He looked towards Melanie, who was doing the exact same thing.

“Get in the car, hurry,” she said. Yan dropped the legs and jogged towards the car.

“Shit. Door’s locked. Keys?”

Melanie walked towards Yan and he saw the blood trial lead towards the side of the road behind her. She threw him the keys.

“Wait. When’d the corpse start bleed—”

Yan closed his eyes as he heard, and almost felt, the impact of the Feral against Melanie’s torso. The two hit the ground hard and Yan opened his eyes to find Melanie grappling with the Feral’s jaw, her fingers in between the Feral’s teeth. Yan saw the teeth. He almost lost it.

“Merde! Yan! Get—”

She couldn’t say anymore as the Feral was pushing her mouth down with its free claw. The other one was being held back by her boot. A muffled scream as Melanie was stuck holding the Feral’s jaws open, as the claw of it was slowly moving from her mouth down towards her neck.

Straining against the claw, she uttered, “Run!”

Yan loosened his grip on the keys, which were now bloodstained from the cut Yan gave himself, holding on to them as tight as he did. Swiftly, unlocked the door and put the keys in the ignition. Melanie got her boot on the Feral’s shoulder, and grunted as she pushed it off her with as much force as possible. She scrambled for the crossbow, which wasn’t anywhere to be found. Yan was panicking as the engine slowly churned into a rumble. The headlights were brighter than the sun. Melanie squinted, and the Feral’s eyes seemed to scorch with the headlights pointed right at it. It yelped as two arrows penetrated its gut and chest. The Feral shuffled back, but the impact stopped its petrified gaze into the car’s lights. It looked straight at Melanie who was shaking with the crossbow in her arms. Yan knew that look. She wouldn’t shoot. She couldn’t. Not with what she was staring at.

The Feral croaked its head up towards the sky, and inhaled despite the puncture in its lung filling it with fluid.

Yan thought fast. He pushed down the emergency brake. Switched into gear. And slammed on the gas. The Feral’s call was cut short by the front of Melanie’s car shattering both its legs, crushing its ribs, and finally smashing its head against the hard road. The car’s screeching stopped right beside Melanie, who was as frozen as Yan had been moments before.

“I’ll drive,” Yan said. The night was silent once again.

“Yes…” Melanie grabbed her head and entered the passenger door. She stared blankly at the dashboard as she sank into the seat.

He looked at her, and could tell.

“Don’t worry.”

“What…” She trailed off before she could finish the question.

Yan pressed down the gas pedal and began cruising down the road.

“It gets easier.”

She started laughing, sunken in her seat. Yan looked at her, confused. Laughing turned to cackling.

Cackling seamlessly melded into gasps for air, and tears rolling down her eyes.

Yan slowed down and looked down to see her face, almost limply hanging down from her neck. She heaved once to suck in some air.

Crap.

“Eh.” He lifted his right arm and patted her on the back. He held it there. Suddenly, he thought he might as well, and tried to awkwardly embrace her across the barrier between seats. She sank into his chest as much as she could, and he could feel the warmth of her face and the tears from her eyes on his shirt. He started stroking her hair, which felt softer than anything he had touched in days, maybe weeks. The car’s rumble lulled them as neither of them moved, and her sobs turned quieter, and her chest ceased heaving.

She sniffled.

“We’re not gonna die.”

Yan looked out the windshield, at the full Moon. Something croaked in his throat.

“We’re not.”

I think I have some sort of telepathic connection with the internet.

‘Last Mind Standing: Killbook of a Bounty Hunter’ gets a movie deal.

I approve.

[via io9]

Does anyone want to send me a copy of his upcoming illustrated book?

How many geeky blog posts do I have to do to make you understand I would KILL PUPPIES FOR THIS THING.

Okay, maybe not. But I’d do something drastic. Like start a Free Hugs Campaign.

Or something.

So am I excited?

image
You tell me.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

‘What’s concentrated awesome look like?’

I think I’ve found the answer.

http://www.danluvisiart.com/

If you’re too lazy to click the link, here’s some crumbs to lead you down that path.

image

image

image

He’s done art for the comic book, gaming, and film industry. He’s created dozens of characters. His art looks amazing. He is a digital art god.

He has a graphic novelcoming out, Last Man Standing, showcasing characters such as above who all look equally and uniquely as awesome. I mean, a Guitar Super Rifle (with Daft Punk & Run DMC stickers)? An Ex-Afroclad Rapper with his pet snake and Monkey?

Please.

Not checking this guy out is like slapping everything cool that has ever existed in the face.
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PS. I've discovered that Dan LuVisi is behind a certain concept art created last year about a certain novel depicting a certain worldwide war against a certain undead, devouring, relentless enemy. In epistolary form. Certainly.


Mmmm. Concept art.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Friday, July 30, 2010

Somebody make a movie about this.

We’ll call it, ‘The Weiner.’

[via. dailywhat]

In all seriousness,

He seems like an earnest politician. Truly, I don’t think you can disagree that the point he makes is a sound one. And his point against the Republican Party is valid.

American politics, you never cease to amuse me.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Golden Hearts

Profound, minor heart-healing event of the day for me came when I checked up on the Official Team Fortress 2 Wiki, after I hadn’t visited for a while.

Right when I got there, this giant banner was on the front page:

image

I didn’t read the subtext, and only saw an smiling engineer tipping his hat to me, and the text ‘Destroy a wrench.’ So, curiosity got me, and I clicked.

Now a bit of backstory with Team Fortress 2. For those of you who don’t know, VALVe Software, creators of TF2, has always been a community-oriented game developer. Since their beginnings with the original PC Game, Half-Life, the player base on which VALVe has built an increasingly strong workforce has shown consistent dedication to the wants and requests of the community. Often, the people at VALVe adopt fan-favourite modifications (mods), or specific types of gameplay modes developed by gamers themselves within the game engine, as improved stand-alone games.

One mod, called Team Fortress from the game Quake, got interest from the managers of VALVe, who hired the modders as part of their team to create that stand-alone game, called Team Fortress Classic.

Old school and hardly remembered, it was the predecessor of the now popular PC game that is Team Fortress 2, released almost a decade later.

History brief over. Take a breather, you disinterested chump.

The point is, VALVe is one of the rare game developers out there who not only listen to their fanbase, but depend on them to shape their future products, plans, and direction to go towards. At least, from the three years I’ve played TF2, that’s the feeling I got.

That kind of mindset and company philosophy got embodied within the confines of Team Fortress 2 through the numerous ‘major updates’ released. The introduction of unlockable weapons, achievements, new maps, the dropping & crafting systems etc. The feedback was mixed, and so VALVe enacted changes. They also decided to theme them towards ‘class updates.’ In Team Fortress 2 there are nine playable classes, all with distinct and differing roles and responsibilities in-game.

imageThe latest, and last class to get updated, was the Engineer, or the friendly guy in the banner above. As a precursor to the imminent update, making many Engineer-savvy players anxious, VALVe introduced a new countdown system, The Dropping of the Golden Wrenches. 100 versions of the mysterious melee weapon that would replace the Engineer’s normal wrench, would drop randomly to unsuspecting players, across all servers, across the world, without warning. As each day of the update ended, more wrenches dropped, until the last one would mark the release of The Engineer Update.

The Golden Wrenches, to speak in layman’s terms, were the equivalent of the Crystal Skulls, a hidden Wikileaks Video, or the missing Eighth Wonder of the World. Within the Team Fortress 2 community, they were the idols of the TF2 universe, for an extremely condensed amount of time. As VALVe released through their blog, they introduced this new item as something to marvel at, cower under those who obtained it, and worship until the day of the update. It was Zeus' thunder, God’s hand, and VALVe’s newest method in immersing their fanbase.

Believe me, I saw its effects. I had played my fair share of TF2, and I saw some wrenches drop. They were mysterious to me, something almost forbidden to my knowledge. I didn’t know of what it could do. Then I witnessed it.

Those who wielded the golden wrenches turned their enemies into frozen statues of gold, frozen in their last motion. It looked fun as hell, and by God, I wanted one.

But they went quickly, as I played, a cross-server announcement would released immediately after another wrench was randomly found somewhere across the network of servers and thousands of players. They had gone quickly.

And the Team Fortress 2 community, as with any, was not happy that some were getting more than others. It seemed the entire goal of the Golden Wrenches—to mark the coming of the last, true, ‘Class Update’, had been skewed by the player base that VALVe devotes its entire existence to. Like past events, the community was torn. The Wrench wielders were given bad community press by those who were bitter. A vocal minority, thankfully, but it struck home to the Wrench wielders. They were nothing but lucky, who could blame them for that? More importantly, who could they blame for their luck?

The fingers logically point at VALVe, but the community knows better, after various debacles, stirring controversies, and compromises made all around. If one were acquainted with the VALVe player community, you would know about the protests by a now notorious player community that had members spearheading boycotts for Left 4 Dead 2, without any knowledge of its quality of gameplay, before its release, the various update releases of TF2, facing protest blockades by outraged community members—specifically the drop system and crafting system, drawing comparisons to turning Team Fortress into a dreaded MMORPG.

Still, frantic community members obsessed with obtained the Golden Wrench crafted their entire backpacks of unlockables, leaving no duplicates for gameplay use, in a futile attempt to once again, cheat the system and beat VALVe at the game they’re trying to encourage you to play.

No one is better at Team Fortress 2 than VALVe, I’ll say that much.

The damage was done, and easily forgotten. The 100th Wrench had dropped, the update released, and the new unlockables enjoyed my masses of TF2ers. The Golden Wrench was an afterthought. Those who had it enjoyed it, and those who didn’t spoke little of it anymore, as like babies attuned to being handed a new rattle or pacifier, they were now occupied with something else.

That is until this banner showed up.

It linked to this site, about a lone Wrench Wielder who decided his luck was too much to the expense of his fellow players. He decided that, to maintain an inner respect for himself as a TF2 player, the Wrench must be destroyed, as he thought it brought too much mental stress, bad emotions, and misplaced rage to be a good thing.

I won’t go much into it, because I want you to read the site for yourself, now that I’ve given you the necessary information to absorb it with. It truly is an altruistic notion.

I think he plays Medic a lot, other than Engineer.

His name is WiNGSPANTT, and he is destroying his Wrench, #31, for charity.image

No, not an in-game charity, like MMORPG’s guild halls, vendors, and for all I know, gentleman’s clubs, this was an actual charity, called Child’s Play.

A charity known in the gaming world as the people responsible for giving the gift of gaming to hospitalized children in hopes to make their stays more than hospitable, but just a bit more enjoyable. It’s a charity that works alongside some of the biggest names in the gaming industry, and as well, much like VALVe, works alongside the gamers themselves, like WiNGSPANTT.

A guy who’s taken the initiative to bridge the gap between reality and the game to make a difference. Out of all the chaos of the last class update, Child’s Play has partnered with WiNGSPANTT and the Team Fortress 2 VALVe team to give awareness to his cause.

Sacrifice a wrench, donate some money, and make a kid smile.

Who knew? The community was giving back. Giving back something real, I might add, which is rare in a virtual gaming community.

To me, this is a cause and effect case study. I’ve said previously VALVe is a community-based developer, they do things for their community in order to better their experiences playing a game VALVe made. They do it more so than most other developers.

Maybe, in some sort of space-time rift anomaly, it occurred to a community member, maybe several, maybe even most of them, that this could work both ways. Some might say I’m reading too much into it, and its just another nice guy who plays his favourite game trying to do something good for people, which in itself, is a hopeful thing.

But the fact that it spread from something normally filled with animosity, and given the emotional history of the dedicated community’s behaviour towards the developer that gives them a lot more than, dare I say, deserve—it’s still surprising to me.

A pleasant one at that. I was getting tired of the constant whining of gamers who didn’t want this weapon buff, or were pissed this one was taken away. Why was the Pyro given more DPS? How come the Heavy unlock does so little damage? These aren’t side-grades, their upgrades! I’ll admit, I haven’t been totally in tune with VALVe’s changes, but I had no right, personally, to call out on any bullshit that was going on, because I knew there wasn’t any.

I wanted to say, loud enough so the edges of the internet could hear me, ‘Just play the damn game!’ That’s all VALVe wants you to do. And when you get bored doing that, you have something to play for—achievements, unlocks, clan matches.

The beauty of fully online games is the community it produces. That’s why they are among the strongest gaming communities out of them all. People assemble naturally for a common goal, and that’s true outside of gaming too.

It’s more prevalent in real life, sure, but what about this?

Using the virtual world to benefit the actual one?

I’ll be damned if I ever would have guessed.

WiNGSPANTT has made almost $4,000 dollars in the combined efforts of the community and Child’s Play. If you can’t help out, spread the word to others for the sake of giving a good name to the gaming world, and making someone feel all tingly inside.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

EPICture of the Week

Some simple EPICture Mathematics:

One missed image x Another missed image =

One epic video.

I fail at keeping deadlines. Somebody needs to…

…play me off?

“Looks like somebody has a case of the caturdays.”

Ha.

[via thedailywh.at]