Thoughts, Go Away

It's that time of night where I can no longer avoid thinking. I basically avoid being alone with my thoughts all day, by doing any number of things. I sleep late for no reason, play computer games for hours at a time, watch TV shows, play my guitar, play Magic, announce baseball games (which is my job, but it helps), etc. I'm sure the list could be expanded. I'm not tired. I doubt I'll be able to fall asleep for a while. I couldn't sleep last night. Since all this stuff hits me at a time when its not feasible to share with anyone else, I might as well write it down here.

It's actually very simple. My heart is broken, and my life is in pieces. I'm heading towards a future that I don't care about. I'm going to graduate college, enter the work force (hopefully; with the economy the way it is, maybe I won't even get that far), and then survive. Not even live, no, just survive. When I think of living, I think of what it's like to be able to look at one person and see everything I could ever want, and watch my happy ending unfold. I would take any job, live anywhere, do just about anything to make that person happy. Just to be able to share a lifetime of experiences with that person would be enough. None of this stuff I'm doing satisfies me. It's not life. It's just distracting me from what would otherwise be just emptiness.

Well, I guess I'm just doomed. I don't expect anyone out there to really care or feel sorry or anything. Heck, if no one ever reads this, I won't know any better. I'm not the first or the only person to be in this situation. Even as I'm writing this, I know it's completely stupid.

I'm just another victim of love...or the failure thereof.

Dry Spell

I've been in the midst of a blogging drought, in case no one can tell. I haven't written in well over a month now. I like writing blogs. It lets me sort out all of my thoughts so that other people can read them. Unfortunately, my more recent thoughts are so confused and scattered that it would be nigh impossible to make anything discernible out of them.

There are all these songs that I can partially relate to my mindset. Each one has a little piece of the puzzle, but none of them quite get the whole picture. In fact, it's the same with TV shows and movies. There are all these things going on that I can watch and say, "Hey, that reminds me of my life, except there are a few differences." And in fact there are lots of things that I wish would happen in my life. I don't know if those kinds of things are realistic, or if its just wishful fiction. I mean, when someone writes a show like that, is it influenced by reality, or is it just something they kind of make up out of thin air?

I will say this, though: painting fences is good work for relieving stress. I don't know why. As a matter of fact, so is announcing. I actually feel happiest when I'm at the ball park, hanging out with my 12 year old buddies. I don't even really have any friends my own age around here. It's kind of weird when I think about it.

Man, this feels really disjointed. Hopefully it's at least a start on blogging remediation. I haven't been able to do any kind of solid, good thinking for a long while.

Scattered Thoughts

Today I don't really have an overarching topic, save that it's Good Friday and my mind has been quite active as of late. I'm basically going to throw down my random thoughts here and see how it works out.

Last night I walked into 301 where there was a heated game of Super Smash Brothers Brawl (one of the most boring games ever). Dolch called something in the game a fag, and I reprimanded him (facetiously), saying it wasn't nice. He responded that he wasn't using it in the "not-nice sense" (i.e. directed against gay people), after which Drew made a remark about my stance on homosexuality (that is, against it) and how the economic issues are weak for arguing against gay marriage. I said, "I'm against gay marriage because it is an affront to my religion. I'm against gay civil union because it is economically un-sound." Then, of course, Dolch offered up that he hates when people bring religion into the issue of marriage, because "marriage existed long before Christianity." Not bothering to launch into the explanation that that is incorrect (as Christianity has existed since the beginning of time, even though it only became manifest to humans some 2,000 years ago), I amended my argument by saying, "Okay, God has also existed long before Christianity, so it's an affront to my God." Bam.

Do not be deceived: "Bad company corrupts good morals." Become sober-minded as you ought, and stop sinning; for some have no knowledge of God. I speak this to your shame. (1 Corinthians 15:33-34)

Truly, colleges are institutes of "lower learning" (a Michael Savage term). As far as I can tell, kids go off to college not just to get an education in some field of study that will advance their lives, but also to unlearn all of the values with which their parents raised them, become corrupted, and discover how to live of the world. Aren't we supposed to be learning, maturing, and growing, rather than discovering how to make bad choices and be irresponsible? No wonder our society is in crisis. We would all be better off if we had to become men in our early teens, facing death with every day and hard work just to put food on the table. These cushy dens of filth cause young, impressionable people to stagnate for four years (or more) by fooling them into a sense of safety and ensuring that they needn't face the reality of life or the consequences of their actions.

I don't want to sound sappy, but in all honesty, I would trust some people that I have never met or spoken to in person far more than those that I would commonly refer to as my friends. This is a result of a very special phenomenon, which is brotherhood in Christ. The sense of kinship I can feel with near-strangers is both amazing and encouraging.

The story of my recent life: It always catches up to you. Sure, it's all fun and games at the time. Skip the class now to take a nap or play video games. The test comes around and now you don't know any of the material. Sometimes it's that obvious. Sometimes it isn't. Keep on skipping classes, even after the miserable feeling and stress that test caused. After all, you got a 90 on the first one anyway. You can do it again. Don't stop there. Instead of examining your situation and realizing you have a problem, just bury it. How better to do that than by having a couple of drinks with your friends? Pay no heed to that nagging sense that maybe, just maybe, you should stop and think for a second. Things may be getting worse? Nah, just watch TV shows so much that you don't have any time to think about your life. Unfortunately, it can't keep up like this forever. You can ignore the blinking lights on the control panel telling you your engines are failing for quite some time. Eventually, though, the plane is going to crash, and you can no longer ignore it. My desert island? I lost the most important person in the world to me. I'm close to failing most of my classes. I go out and drink so much that I can't remember it. The only solace I can find is in the lives of the characters on "How I Met Your Mother."

Possibly the most mind-boggling part of all of this: even in all of the misery it didn't occur to me that I had to stop. I felt no regrets. And yet, that little nag in my conscience finally got the better of me. I don't know how, exactly, but it finally snapped in the middle of a phone conversation with my mom. The crushing weight of everything built up from months and months came down on me. And now today, not all that long after, I am the world better for it. It hearkens back to the story of Joseph: God meant it for good.

Now another brief word on friendship, drawing from my own experiences. Common wisdom dictates that "a good friend will bail you out of jail, but a true friend will be sitting next to you saying. 'Damn, that was fun!'" What a perversion of the truth. Let's look a little more closely at that statement, and rephrase it a little bit: "A good friend will help you out when you screw up, but a true friend will further encourage your wrongdoing with enthusiasm."

Excuse me?

For I have no one else of kindred spirit who will genuinely be concerned for your welfare. For they all seek after their own interests, not those of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 2:20-21) I stuck that in my last short post. The truth is, I made sure to avoid those people I could trust as my true friends that would support my values and have genuine concern for my welfare, rather than just looking out to have a good time. It is something far, far deeper that binds together a true friendship than just fun times together.

Right now, I feel like I've been kicked in the sternum. Nevertheless, I am whole. I was skimming through Revelation yesterday and I came upon the description of the "New Jerusalem" at the very end. I've read it before, but yesterday it hit me with an awe-inspiring amount of power. The understanding I have, far more than a simple belief or a comfort as skeptic would try to write it off, is resounding and incredible. The life-changing power of the grace of God is with me, and some day I will live in that beautiful city.

At the end of the day, all my efforts proved vain, and all my happiness was fleeting. I have had a truly life-changing experience this semester. I will sign off with a couple of references from Paul (in fact, I'm just going to delete the last post; everything that was in it is in here now).

But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me did not prove vain; but I labored even more than all of them, yet not I, but the grace of God with me. (1 Corinthians 15:10)

Indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves in order that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead; who delivered us from so great a peril of death, and will deliver us, He on whome we have set our hope. And He will yet deliver us. (2 Corinthians 1:9-10)

I have hope. I will not give that up.

What Is Love?

I once wrote a post of the same title in which I tried to work out just what it is we mean by "love." Today, with a troubled heart, I am undertaking a similar task. So many people speak of love that it almost goes without a thought.

I have observed people utterly crushed by love. I've seen it on television, heard it in song lyrics, and read it in books. The story around which my entire life is based is about a man who was God and took upon himself the weight of every evil in the world for love. To try and actually understand just what that entailed seems, at present, very difficult. Maybe that's the rotten truth about love: it demolishes us with such grim efficiency, leaving us so broken in spirit that it's difficult to actually conceive of still being alive. Even so, it remains. It remains because it must. Beneath the taint of humanity, beneath the pain and hardships and evils, it is still possible to understand that love has all the characteristics listed by Paul: patient, kind, not jealous, not arrogant, not acting unbecomingly, not seeking its own, not provoked, not taking into account wrongs suffered, not rejoicing in unrighteousness but truth, and of course bearing, believing, hoping, and enduring all things.

Love never fails.

This fundamental truth can be fairly easily recognized. When we are at our best, full of love and acting accordingly, we bring joy both to ourselves and to those around us. When we are at our worst there is conflict, suffering, and pain. Nevertheless, we always turn back around, because love nudges us in the right direction. We feel guilt for hasty actions or words, mean-spirited or sarcastic, intended to hurt or simply thoughtless, that bring harm to loved ones.

Maybe there is no rotten truth about love, after all. Maybe it's just the truth about us: we dig our own spiritual and emotional graves. For one person to take upon themself this kind of misery on behalf of every human that has ever and will ever live...death would seem to be a relief. To do this in the name of love is to give a great indication as to what power love actually has. It is a weighty perspective with which to view things. And maybe we just can't really understand love without such a perspective.

What a messed up world this is.

On the Absurdity of Sports

I was sitting at a baseball game today, and it occurred to me that sports are utterly and completely absurd. I mean, stop for a second. You're standing there with a stick, trying to hit a ball away from people so that you can run around a square path marked with "bases" at 60 foot intervals. What are you thinking? What is the significance of any of this action? What's more, how is it that we have determined the ideal positions and sequences of motion to accomplish these odd things? And why do people enjoy watching them so much? I seriously think that if I were an alien visiting Earth for a day, I would conclude that humans are insane.

Hmmm...that little rant was much shorter than I originally intended. But really, think about it. Sports are completely ridiculous. Why are they such a huge part of life?

Calling

I wonder what my calling is. I keep sitting here (wherever here is, exactly; it varies) feeling like I don't belong. I honestly think I'm in over my head with this engineering stuff. I'm not going to say I'm not smart; I don't really think that. And frankly, I'm grateful that I'm smart enough to somehow still be passing my classes. I just feel like my gifts, as it were, are wasted here. And frankly, the social life kind of sucks too. My options are limited to staying in my room (or common area, or across the hall) basically wasting time (which is appropriate at least a good amount of the time), or going to boring frat parties where I know no one and there isn't anything to do but drink. Well, I guess there are also hockey games during the season, but I only went to one this year because our team sucked and it was really depressing. On top of that, my faith and values are scoffed at by the "academics" running about, and of course I'm also surrounded by stifling liberalism that frequently makes me feel sick.

That's not actually part of my overarching train of thought (although it certainly lends a hand in my thinking that I am completely in the wrong place at this point). I mean, there certainly is virtue in being in my position. I suppose I'm right in the middle of the cosmic battlefield, and for this I guess I should feel honored. Even so, I never feel like speaking what I think or behaving in a way that I believe will set a good example for others actually does any good. And of course there are the times that I utterly fail to set a good example, which are probably enough to completely countermand anything good I might accomplish.

I suppose, in short, I don't feel that I'm actually strong enough to survive in my present environment. Peter said, "Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls about like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour." He also listed several qualities we must seek diligently: faith, moral excellence, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and love. "For he who lacks these qualities is blind or short-sighted, having forgotten his purification from his former sins." Peter urges us to be diligent and steadfast, lest we become like the dog returning to its own vomit, or the sow who washes and then returns to wallow in the mire. I often feel devoured and dirty. I have done things that I regret, repented, and done them again anyway.

What's more, according to Paul, "No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, that you may be able to endure it." That just makes me a failure, I think. It is by my own choices in the face of temptations I am capable of resisting that lead me back to the proverbial vomit and mire.

To summarize (and I hope this is not construed as "emo"), my life seems like a mess and I feel alone. And I'm thinking about joining the Army. Maybe that's my calling. For some reason it keeps popping up in my head. Sure, there's always the risk of getting killed in action, but frankly right now I don't really feel like I'm living for anything. Maybe that's just a worthy risk.

I wish this semester would end already. At least then I can be miserable in a safe environment at home, on vacation.

Watchmen

Holy cow. I don't think I can say enough good about the movie right now. I just returned from my second IMAX viewing, and it blew me completely away. I mean, it was good the first time, but that second viewing was essential for capturing the subtleties that I might have missed before.

The soundtrack was superb. That's one thing I usually don't pick up on in movies. It was eccentric, to be sure, but the songs fit beautifully with what was going on on-screen. One of my favorite parts, effect-wise (and I'm talking not just about special effects, but the entire atmosphere of the scene) was Dr. Manhattan's back story sequence. I don't even particularly like Dr. Manhattan, but his character was made so incredibly vivid I couldn't help but enjoy watching it.

And as far as book renditions go (I say "book" rather than "comic," because Watchmen resembles a novel more than it does a comic book, and is actually a graphic novel anyway), it was easily the best I've seen in a long time, possibly ever. While picking up on the subtle (and overt) changes, the feel of the story and thematic elements were amazingly well preserved. Perhaps this is due to the abundance of pictures alongside words that allowed it to be captured in motion so well, but even other graphic-novel-based films weren't nearly as spectacular (i.e. 300, V for Vendetta, and Sin City). I think this can also partly be attributed to the excellence of Watchmen's superb story.

The acting was great, and in my opinion the casting was spot on. The costumes were cool, updated versions of their original counterparts, while staying true to the essences of the originals. The cinematography was also excellent. One part that I picked up on in particular was a shot framing the auto repair sign outside of Hollis Mason's house. Even the ending--slightly altered from the book--served to deliver the same effect while maintaining plausibility.

I don't think I have anything bad to say about it at this point. I defy a better movie to come out in 2009. And I'll tell you right now, the Academy and their prejudice against comics and super heroes can suck an ol' buck. This thing was a spectacle. There is no way any artsy movie can possibly match up.

In fact, I think I can summarize the entire moviegoing experience in this simple sentence: I want to be a masked adventurer.

A Bit More Productive

My roommate Alex Rakotz happened to walk by while I was loafing on my bed watching "Lost." He told me I should be a bit more productive, so this is my attempt. I didn't have class today, just like every Thursday, and since this upcoming week is Spring break, I don't really have anything to do for classes tomorrow. This week was something of a joke for me on the whole.

I am up to the fourth season of "Lost" at this point. I have been watching for approximately three weeks now (I started the first season during Valentine's Day weekend, when I had four consecutive days off, along with the fourth season of 24). I have almost completely caught up with the current airing of the show. I suppose this is quite a feat.

It's not like I really have anything better to spend my time on. I also have spent a fair amount of the last few days playing my guitar, and last night I even started playing "God of War" for want of something a little different than what I've been doing. I guess I'm basically bored out of my skull, although it's not really something that bothers me altogether too much. I can't wait for break, because I'm tired of sitting around here doing nothing. I would rather be at home for a week doing nothing, at least with access to a car and the upcoming CBA musical to look forward to.

I don't really have anything good to say. I guess I'll leave it there.

A Brief Nugget of Wisdom

Today in my "Metaphysics and Consciousness" class we had a discussion about computers, their potential consciousness, awareness, knowledge, and things of that nature, and whether we will ever build a robot that we can call a "person."

It is my opinion that computers are not conscious, are not people, and never will be. Despite technological advancements, there are just certain things that set us people apart from them, such that the gap can never be bridged. Now, for my nugget of wisdom:

Computers may not be people, but they sure are much more reliable. Computers don't ever make you miserable.

One More Thing

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that I hate the Guitar Hero drum set. That thing is a piece of junk. It drops notes, it's wireless (automatically a bad thing), and the pads feel freaking weird. I was only getting three stars on easy songs because it refused to let me get higher than a 2x multiplier.

And you know what else? I hate HDTVs. Well, no, I hate trying to integrate Guitar Hero with an HDTV. The lag calibration is impossible. Even if you "fix" it, you can still feel it. It feels like trying to play an instrument with your hands submerged in mud. For crying out loud, since they aren't making CRT TVs anymore, fix the lag before you release the next game. I'm sick of dealing with it. I actually like watching television in HD. Except when it's regular television, in which case it sucks and looks all pixelated. Eff.

I'm so glad my 8AM [in the morning] class is cancelled tomorrow. I don't think I could deal with so-called "Professional Development" this week. It's like taking 6th grade all over again, without all the perks. No, it's actually way worse than that. 6th grade was awesome. PD1 is not awesome. Although the teacher is actually kind of chill. The only thing is that he says "8AM in the morning," which is one of my pet peeves. You might as well say "8AM AM," or "8 in the morning in the morning." It means the same God-blasted thing.

Oh yeah, and now instead of just one blue screen of death related to my video card and/or drivers, I'm getting two. THAT MEMORY PARITY ERROR IS BACK! My "G" key doesn't really work too well either. The time draws nigh to make good on my warranty.

The wammy bar on the Syn custom is broken. What a freaking pain. The little can opener in the kitchen sucks. The electric one is also a pain. "Lost" is just a random mish-mosh of nonsense with a set of regular characters. The water here tastes metallic, and we no longer have a Brita filter. There's no milk to eat Corn Flakes with.

AND NOW. I WANT. TO PLAY. WITH MY STAR WARS TOYS!

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that I had a dream I was being chased by two Terminators. By way of my cleverness, I got away from them, but it was still a very intense and trying experience. Terminators don't typically mess around. At least these ones were satisfied with giving me back a pen I had lost. Only, I hadn't lost a pen. I think it was just their pretense to kill me. It's not the best way to start off the week (since I start off the week on Tuesday rather than Monday).

Man, I am in a foul mood.

A True Cinderella Story (Sort Of)

The following is transcribed from a conversation that took place on January 30th:

Al Kass4:	okay so
Al Kass4:	they had an arcade night tonight
Al Kass4:	and they had an ultimate mortal kombat 3 machine
Al Kass4:	so me and milton went up, and i played him
Al Kass4:	i, of course, was scorpion, and he was sub zero
Al Kass4:	so i beat him with ease
Al Kass4:	but as soon as we got over there, this guy goes "oh im playing winner"
Al Kass4:	guy looks all geared up
Al Kass4:	apparently he was standing behind us watching me, and he said to andrew timm, "watch this, im gonna kick this guy's butt"
Al Kass4:	so milton steps away
Al Kass4:	and the guy steps up and goes "alright, it's on buddy"
Al Kass4:	so
Al Kass4:	strategically
Al Kass4:	i picked smoke
Al Kass4:	2 best moves in the game
Balrog1030:	amen
Al Kass4:	we start, immediately i teleport punched him
Al Kass4:	HOO HA
Al Kass4:	and then i speared him
Al Kass4:	and i kept doing that a couple times
Al Kass4:	won that round reasonably easily
Al Kass4:	then the next round
Al Kass4:	kid's drilling me
Al Kass4:	had me down to about 10% and i hadnt touched him
Al Kass4:	and then
Al Kass4:	BAM
Al Kass4:	got him once with the spear, and it was game over
Al Kass4:	trounced his a
Al Kass4:	he couldnt get a move in after that
Balrog1030:	schweet
Balrog1030:	good jorb
Al Kass4:	and i said "alright im done" and walked away
Al Kass4:	the moral of the story is
Al Kass4:	you dont come into my house and tell me youre gonna kick my butt at my game
Al Kass4:	it's not often that i lose at mortal kombat
Al Kass4:	especially not to cocky s.o.b.'s
Al Kass4:	it was epic
Al Kass4:	i was quite proud of myself
Balrog1030:	that is a true cinderella story

8,000 Bumper Stickers

For those of you too young to remember the days when "bumper sticker" meant nothing to do with Facebook (which should be none of you, since all of about three people read this and those people are older than me), I use the term to refer to actual stickers placed on the bumper of a car. Or, in the case that I'm writing about, all over every free surface of the car, including the windshield.

Some cars have far too many bumper stickers. It's a simple fact. I pointed out this afternoon, while looking at one such car parked off the street in Troy, that when I see a car with 8,000 bumper stickers I feel like I want to blow it up with an RPG. This is roughly 30% due to the sheer number of stickers and 70% due to the content of the stickers. As a rule of thumb, when you see a car covered in its weight in stickers, you can generally ascertain a few things: they are a liberal nutcase, an environmentalist-bordering-on-eco-terrorism, and one of those "coexisters" (you know, that one stupid sticker that has the word "coexist" written in all kinds of religious symbols). They probably value lobsters over human lives. They probably making a hobby out of hugging trees and loving dirt. And it's about 99% sure that in this past election they voted for socialism, infanticide, rabid globalism, and otherwise Barack Obama.

If you are offended by the last paragraph, then I probably don't like your world view.

Heck, those are just the types of people that put that many bumper stickers on their cars. It's really stupid. It's like waving a big red flag with the word "idiot" embroidered upon it in bold lettering. I mean, heck, 30% of the idiocy comes from the sheer number of stickers in the first place. That's still saying something.

On a related note, I really wish life were more like Grand Theft Auto. You know, when that person honks their horn at you for absolutely no reason, you can just plow 'em off the road. You can mow down those pedestrians abusing their "right of way" to mosey across the crosswalk for a period of time that seems about five years long. Or not even the crosswalk, just simply a random spot in the middle of the road. Mostly, though, I'd like to just plow bad drivers off the road and ignore the speed limit and such.

Hmmmm...it seems like I'm kind of in a bad mood. But it's all good, because I had a slice of chicken alfredo pizza from Pizza Bella. Schweet.

The Real Best Picture

I watched the Oscars the other night, and I was greatly disappointed that The Dark Knight did not even receive a nomination for Best Picture. The Academy has determined that there are certain qualities a movie must have in order for it to qualify for Best Picture, which I would place under the blanket term "artsiness." It must have "good directing," and "good editing," and "good acting," and a "good soundtrack." Oh, and it also must have no basis in action whatsoever.

The Dark Knight was 2008's Best Picture.

I only watched two of this year's candidates, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Slumdog Millionaire. Of the two, my personal preference was the former. Brad Pitt's acting was very good, the plot was interesting and quirky, if unnecessarily verbose, and the effects were also impressive. The latter was a pretty good movie: a "rags to riches," coming of age, and romance story all rolled into one cohesive ball, set against the backdrop of the TV show "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" I have to say that the acting, especially by the young children in the cast, was quite good. The plot itself was good, and if it was accurate, it was a rather informative picture of the impoverished in India.

(Spoiler Warning: plot details follow.)

Yes, Slumdog Millionaire was a good movie. However, I would not go so far as to call it a stellar movie. I would give it about 75 on a scale of 100 points. I did not find it altogether very compelling. The concept, from what I heard prior to viewing, sounded like it had great potential. A boy wins big on "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire," and is subsequently accused of cheating; the movie shows how it is he came to know the answers to the questions. That description is only partly accurate.

A good portion of the flashbacks also deals with the main character, Jamal, searching for his childhood-companion-turned-love-interest Latika, as well as his relationship with his (later in life) estranged brother Salim. What I quickly discovered was that the plot was not anything terribly original, nor was it altogether compelling or plausible. Sure, it's kind of cute and fuzzy to call it fate, but the way the love story and the answers to the game show questions fell together very conveniently was quite transparent. The ending was predictably happy (not that it was a bad ending, just visible from half an hour away). Salim ended up redeeming himself as well, after some of the less respectable acts he committed. There was a bit of suspense towards the end, as the movie began before Jamal had actually won the entire sum of money possible from the game show. Altogether, it was a pretty decent movie, but the intense amount of hype that preceded my viewing left me disappointed. I did enjoy the dance number at the very end, although it was slightly incongruous with the rest of the movie. Apparently it's an Indian thing.

Now, I claim that The Dark Knight deserved the Best Picture award over Slumdog Millionaire, because The Dark Knight was a phenomenal movie, while Slumdog Millionaire was only a decent movie. First of all, having a low budget should not give any movie any kind of additional merit in regards to its quality or worthiness to win. Because The Dark Knight had a greater budget, it was capable of having a better team, better effects, and a more experienced cast. All these things give a movie a not unfair advantage over a movie with a lower budget.

That said, both the cinematographic and literary/thematic elements of The Dark Knight were superior. And there were solid thematic elements in that movie. It had a romantic subplot that tied heavily into the main plot. It had great characters. Bruce Wayne/Batman was an icon of heroism, giving up what he wanted for what he though would better serve the people. Harvey Dent was an idealist, a good-hearted man who refused to compromise on his vision of a better world. Yet he also became a model of the fallible man, who has a weakness to be exploited and can become corrupted and fallen. The Joker was an embodiment of chaos and evil, an example of the selfishness of a solitary person and the results of living in a world composed of such individuals. He sought to bring to ruin order and justice as we know it, and "prove" that the hearts and souls of everyone are truly black.

While perhaps exaggerated, these are three very realistic characters. The theme of fall and redemption, corruption and purity, and mercy towards those who may not deserve or appreciate it was heavy in all parts of the film, and I found that it resonated within me more than any movie I've seen in a while. Batman continued to protect a city that feared and hated him, even though it meant giving up a future with a girl he loved. The Joker was proven wrong when even a boat full of convicted and hardened criminals refused to blow up another boat; conversely, the boat of supposedly "innocent" people refused to condemn those criminals to death simply to save themselves. In the end, Batman took the fall for the atrocious acts of Harvey Dent after becoming Two-Face, in order that the people could have hope for a brighter future. And these are only the main points. The list goes on.

In short, it was a movie laden with instances of compassion, honor, heroism, and love (not romance, but love). It was a classic story of good versus evil, yet on so many levels and in different ways as to render it intensely meaningful. You should note that none of this takes into account the movie's awesome action sequences, great special effects, and otherwise super hero coolness. And it's certainly not as though the acting was bad, either. This is clear from Heath Ledger's Best Supporting Actor award, though he was by no means the only good actor in the film.

And yet, all these factors are overlooked because it is a "comic book" or "super hero" or "action" movie. Some of the deepest movie material is overlooked on the basis of a preconceived notion that comic books, their characters, and their stories are somehow too shallow to be considered worthy of the Academy's attention. It's just like that post Andrew Clark wrote about comic books recently (http://mythicether.blogspot.com/2009/02/in-defense-of-comics.html) which was part of the motivation behind this post. The Academy, in its supposed artistic enlightenment, has failed, has passed over some of the greatest art to have had a place on the movie screen in years.

What a shame.

Topic-less

I am without a topic. It's the story of my life. I have no direction whatsoever. I feel like an amorphous blob, dictated completely by my spur-of-the-moment whims. One such whim was writing a new blog post, right this instant. As a result, I am rap-tap-tapping away while the sonorous melodies of Metal Gear Solid 4 emanate from the television a scant eight or so feet away. Boy, is it annoying. This weird banshee-like voice keeps saying "SNAAAAAAKE!" I'm getting quite sick of it. I remember when Dolch played through the whole game before Christmas break. Actually, to call it a "game" is a bit of a misnomer. It's more like a collection or 20+ minute cutscenes (or rather, cinematics; cutscenes are usually short bridges between gameplay) with a few bits of actual play time in between. I don't know what the big deal is. From what I've seen and heard, the writing is pretty bad and the story is nothing to write home about.

I can't escape across the hall, either, because they're playing Super Smash Brothers Brawl (my goodness, that is a quite a mouthful). That's basically all they ever do. That game isn't even that much fun, but it's not like I understand anybody's taste in anything (to include movies and music).

Well, I took a brief hiatus to attempt to help Meg fix her CD drive (to no avail), and to fix my Daemon tools (to avail). In order to accomplish the latter, I had to restart my computer, and while it was taking its oh-so-pokey time booting up, I sat down at the new Guitar Hero drum set to play a few songs. Boy howdy, I still do not like that drum set. It feels real squishy and it does not respond well. I must at least lay part of the blame on the lag. HDTVs are far, far less than ideal for Guitar Hero. In fact, I almost never play on our living room television because the lag drives me insane.

I suppose to continue on my impromptu discussion of video game merits, I started playing Tomb Raider 3 last week. I have to say I'm enjoying it more than I expected to, although it is a bit disjointed. However, it has one huge drawback: in order to access the bonus level at the end, every secret in the entire game must be collected. Since levels can't be replayed, this means that I must find them all on my first run-through. Given the utter absurdity of some of the secrets, this necessitates the use of a walkthrough, which takes a good portion of the fun of exploring out of the game. Not to mention is a gigantic pain to have to minimize every thirty seconds or so to make sure I'm not missing that secret that will doom me for the rest of forever. And I'm sure not anticipating the final boss, who is most assuredly ludicrous, if rather cool looking.

Enough about video games. Today was free pancake day at IHOP. I went with the rest of the Thompson crew (well, most of them) and waited for a goodly while before sitting down to wait another goodly while to get my somewhat meager short stack of pancakes. I ordered a side of bacon that never came ("THE BACON THAT NEVER COOOOOMES!" (that's a Death Magnetic joke, folks)), and Justin and Alex suffered similar grievances, with chocolate chip pancakes and corned beef hash, respectively. We left only a ten percent tip, because I admit the place was pretty flooded, but we didn't get our food.

Afterwards the Studbuckets engaged some Air Force ROTC basketball team and suffered a 42-30 loss. Our defense was quite solid at most points, but we still lacked the necessary offensive fervor of a winning team. Our record is 0-8 lifetime, or 0-9 counting the game that was officially stricken from the books because Jon got hurt and play had to be suspended. At least he has a cool scar to show for it. And at least we now have a uniform of sorts. And heck, I committed an epic foul by throwing my entire body at one of their players while he was attempting to score, thoroughly knocking him out of bounds.

I think I want some bacon now, to make up for that which I did not receive earlier. As an added bonus, it will now be thick-sliced bacon free of additional charge. w00t.

This post brought to you by Battlestar Galactica Lara Croft.

President's Day

First, a word from Wikipedia:

"All across America, President's Day is used as an excuse to sell mattresses and beds. Many stores advertise special Presidents Day Mattress Sales and Presidents Day Mattress Events."

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/President%27s_day#Mattresses; that's right, it has its own section title.)

This President's Day, I'm off from school. In fact, I'm off from school every Monday. Conveniently, though, since apparently we are required to have the same number of each week day in every semester, I also have Tuesday off. You see, we had Martin Luther King Jr. Day off in January. Strike a Monday. Now, we have President's day off. Strike another Monday? Now we have two less Mondays than every other week day. Solution: make Tuesday a Monday class day, and strike a Tuesday. Since I have no classes on Monday class days, I now have a four day weekend. (In case you care, the Wednesday is taken care of during GM Week, for student government elections, and the Thursday and Friday are given as reading days just prior to finals week.)

Now, when I was in Nashville at the very beginning of 2009, I bought this neat little blue journal with a velvety-feeling cover. It's actually bound with real binding, so it's not like your average little notebook, which makes it completely awesome. I picked up writing in there as a pretty much daily process, just to get a little practice and ensure that I wouldn't become completely illiterate here at RPI. The thing is, I'm actually an aspiring writer myself, although a bit more directionless. I've had many ideas cross my mind that could be developed into novels eventually, but I often focus on specific scenarios and details rather than an overarching plot, so what I really come up with is single scenes that play in my head like movies. I see exactly what happens, and its potential significance to a greater whole, but I don't know what that greater whole is yet.

Anyway, I started this journal just to practice my writing. It worked really well. To be honest, I prefer to type because I find it easier to keep my words at pace with my thoughts. Writing with a pen on paper forced me to slow myself down a little bit, and was an interesting exercise. The only thing was, while it was just great for putting down thoughts I want to keep to myself, it was impossible to broadcast any thoughts I might want other people to know. I actually wrote a few "blog posts" in that journal; things I would normally have gone and put online.

While I still love that journal, I now have an outlet for those random things that I want to make public. I can still use my little blue book to write down other stuff that isn't fit for public viewing (I order your mind out of the gutter, IMMEDIATELY). And yes, I am quite familiar with the blogging realm. I have come and gone many times since I was but a junior in high school. This time, I'm going to try and get something off the ground.

I apologize if I dashed your dreams of reading a blog about President's Day to itty bitty fragments. I am guilty of entitling my posts in misleading ways. I suppose if I were ever to write songs, it would be the same way (although I wouldn't make them rambling epics, like some bands do).

CLOSURE!

Why is this blog entitled "256 Colors?"

Well my friends, back in the day some computer games (such as those in the "Madeline" series) would only run in 256 colors. Sometimes games will inform you that certain conditions must be met in order for them to run, but they're just helpful suggestions to improve your experience. Other games, however, insist that they will only run in 256 colors. They force you to go into your display properties and actually change your color settings. It's like a visual downgrade.

Well, let me just tell you that this is in no way metaphorical or analogous. It just happened to pop into my head. Okay, even that's a lie. I'll tell you why I really thought of it. Earlier I was downloading Tool's "Lateralus" at Andrew Clark's prompting, via the wonderful services provided by Demonoid. Now, Demonoid only lists music files up to 256kbps; anything higher is listed as "over 256kbps." Thus, wanting the best quality music file I could find, I used the handy Ctrl+F find feature that Firefox provides (much better than most Find commands, let me tell you) to search for "256" on the page. I eventually located a worthy file; however, I never closed the toolbar at the bottom of the screen. As a result, all day it has been sitting there in my browser, displaying "256" from my previous search. Whilst pondering a blog title (this went on for less than 15 seconds, to be honest), I spied the number and remembered the old games and their insistance on running in 256 colors.

And a blog was born.

The funny thing is, "Lateralus" was insiting on taking about 12 hours to download. I eventually just listened to it on YouTube. I didn't like it. BUT DARN IT, I TRIED IT!

Oh yeah, a few minutes ago I cooked the perfect piece of bacon. In appearance and taste, it was positively beautiful.

From left to right: Anastasia, Cinderella, and Drizella
(Anastasia and Drizella were still quite delicious)

In order to bring this post some closure:

CLOSURE!