----------------------------------------------------
l...................... l ............08CS>Sj08..l
l...................... l ..........................l
l...................... l ..........................l
l...................... l ..........................l
l...................... l ..........................l
l...................... l ..........................l
l...................... l ..........................l
----------------------------------------------------
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Of Being A Nerd
They say it is important to be yourself. Good advise, unfortunately, in some situations it is easier said than done. Example: if you are a nerd.
So why is it such good advice? Why else, it feels great. I quote Monty Python. I brush up infinitely on video games. I make jokes about peoples mothers. Upon hearing things that could easily interpreted sexually, I do so, and then repeat them aloud for any one who is willing to listen. Did I mention that it all feels great?
But is being yourself only a guilty pleasure? Is doing what I like to do okay? After all, most behavior results in some degree of social suicide. Questions never stop coming though. Who cares about a social life? Is being an outcast who is himself better than being a popular kid who goes home every night and plays dungeons and dragons? Where do we draw the line? Can we truly choose rationally? What stays the same? What stays with us? Can I be myself later? Can I fit in later? Who cares? Who doesn’t? Does what I do today really affect how I am tomarrow? Why do I even wonder? Sad. Some day.
So why is it such good advice? Why else, it feels great. I quote Monty Python. I brush up infinitely on video games. I make jokes about peoples mothers. Upon hearing things that could easily interpreted sexually, I do so, and then repeat them aloud for any one who is willing to listen. Did I mention that it all feels great?
But is being yourself only a guilty pleasure? Is doing what I like to do okay? After all, most behavior results in some degree of social suicide. Questions never stop coming though. Who cares about a social life? Is being an outcast who is himself better than being a popular kid who goes home every night and plays dungeons and dragons? Where do we draw the line? Can we truly choose rationally? What stays the same? What stays with us? Can I be myself later? Can I fit in later? Who cares? Who doesn’t? Does what I do today really affect how I am tomarrow? Why do I even wonder? Sad. Some day.
Of Homosexuals
My little brother Mark I full blown gay. Not only can he not take a hint, he doesn’t know when to shut up, or in some cases when to speak up. The worst part is that most of the people I know would find no logical fallacy in the statement.
So when did homosexuality miraculously become synonymous with everything that we don’t like? It’s hard to say, but we do. That’s gay, you’re gay, gay gay. Gay. Obscene, is it not? Yet it is so deeply imbedded in our culture. Most ironically, its implementation makes no sense whatsoever.
Let’s just say that I hate walruses. If I find something else that I hate, and wish to admit it verbally, it doesn’t make sense for me to scream, “That is so freaking walrus!” Do you know what I’m saying? Where I’m coming from? Even further into the pit of analogy I might draw up more questions. What did the walruses ever do to me?
It is only natural to assume that a man, even obscure enough to have developed a hate for walruses, has never been sexually assaulted, wronged, or raped by a walrus. The only thing the man may hold for it is fear. Strange.
So when did homosexuality miraculously become synonymous with everything that we don’t like? It’s hard to say, but we do. That’s gay, you’re gay, gay gay. Gay. Obscene, is it not? Yet it is so deeply imbedded in our culture. Most ironically, its implementation makes no sense whatsoever.
Let’s just say that I hate walruses. If I find something else that I hate, and wish to admit it verbally, it doesn’t make sense for me to scream, “That is so freaking walrus!” Do you know what I’m saying? Where I’m coming from? Even further into the pit of analogy I might draw up more questions. What did the walruses ever do to me?
It is only natural to assume that a man, even obscure enough to have developed a hate for walruses, has never been sexually assaulted, wronged, or raped by a walrus. The only thing the man may hold for it is fear. Strange.
The next big problem with language arts…
Periodically I feel I must do what I am now accustomed to do: complain. Once again I do what has now almost become ritual: complete homework while bitching about it. I will never like L.A., but there is something even more definite than this –I will never get a good grade in an L.A. class.
The audience, after hearing this most recent statement, is undoubtedly split on what to think of this. Some of you may note that fact to be an absolute travesty, noting that my ability is astounding and infallible. Some of you may agree with it, looking back on what outsiders might consider a lack of effort. I would say that both parties are incorrect.
What makes me do poorly in L.A. is the fact that I suck. Ironically, while most find it a simple class: the study of the language that they use EVERY DAMN DAY OF THEIR LIVES. Hell, we even THINK about things in English. But there is a catch. It is all too easy to have enough to get by in such a class. Can you read? Can you write? Can you sound things out? – if you answered yes to any two of those you are hired.
Unfortunately, if I can get by with something I will. Big surprise. Over the years, my skills have done nothing but degenerate. Reading as little as possible and writing to match for all of my high school career, my vocabulary has seen no improvement, and in fact, I now reside on the low end of reading and comprehension. I can’t spell either.
Here in lies moral: the reason I hate this class. There is no easy way out. You can’t cram for English. There is nothing more to learn to significantly improve your success. All you can do is practice –something I haven’t been doing for quite some time. Thanks to this I must accept my fate. It will lower my college entrance exam scores and keep my ITED composite score down as well. Every test in the world is first a reading test and then a test of the subject. I will get there someday.
The audience, after hearing this most recent statement, is undoubtedly split on what to think of this. Some of you may note that fact to be an absolute travesty, noting that my ability is astounding and infallible. Some of you may agree with it, looking back on what outsiders might consider a lack of effort. I would say that both parties are incorrect.
What makes me do poorly in L.A. is the fact that I suck. Ironically, while most find it a simple class: the study of the language that they use EVERY DAMN DAY OF THEIR LIVES. Hell, we even THINK about things in English. But there is a catch. It is all too easy to have enough to get by in such a class. Can you read? Can you write? Can you sound things out? – if you answered yes to any two of those you are hired.
Unfortunately, if I can get by with something I will. Big surprise. Over the years, my skills have done nothing but degenerate. Reading as little as possible and writing to match for all of my high school career, my vocabulary has seen no improvement, and in fact, I now reside on the low end of reading and comprehension. I can’t spell either.
Here in lies moral: the reason I hate this class. There is no easy way out. You can’t cram for English. There is nothing more to learn to significantly improve your success. All you can do is practice –something I haven’t been doing for quite some time. Thanks to this I must accept my fate. It will lower my college entrance exam scores and keep my ITED composite score down as well. Every test in the world is first a reading test and then a test of the subject. I will get there someday.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
NOob Temping Fate
Noob there is nothing (which is to say almost nothing) in this world greater than the feeling one gets from testing fate and winning. Noob I have become very familiar with this, especially given some my most recent experiences. Noob a noob with the initials of SJ can attest to this, though it is quite possible he wouldn’t. Noob Still I think myself an expert.
Noob the important part about feeling good is feeling better than you expected to. Noob as you will find, most everything is relative. Noob assume I was playing a game with my older brother. Noob assume he was winning beyond a shadow of a doubt, and he gambled a chance do finish me off and end the game—and failed. Noob he would still go on to win the game without question, but he was absolutely pissed off: in his mind I had won the game.
Noob still cheating your destiny through sheer luck or ambition can do as much to help as it can hurt if you fail. Noob for example going from “going to lose your driver’s licence” to “not” could bring a smile to anyone. Noob, listen to the words I say, “You are garbage at COD4 SJ”
Noob the important part about feeling good is feeling better than you expected to. Noob as you will find, most everything is relative. Noob assume I was playing a game with my older brother. Noob assume he was winning beyond a shadow of a doubt, and he gambled a chance do finish me off and end the game—and failed. Noob he would still go on to win the game without question, but he was absolutely pissed off: in his mind I had won the game.
Noob still cheating your destiny through sheer luck or ambition can do as much to help as it can hurt if you fail. Noob for example going from “going to lose your driver’s licence” to “not” could bring a smile to anyone. Noob, listen to the words I say, “You are garbage at COD4 SJ”
lowered? Am I no
Nostalgia is wicked sick. This past weekend I helped myself to a big serving of Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Quest and I feel as if my socks have been thoroughly rocked off of my body. Since then I have been able to find them and return them to my feet, but the magic is not lost.
It was like taking a trip down memory lane, to a simpler time, to a time before I had solved every secret in the game. And it was right. I had forgotten much of my roots. Back in the day, or at least my version of the day, we struggled for hours to solve some secrets; this weekend I struggled to remember the past.
Still I had the good times revisit me. I got beat down by Klubba when I didn’t have enough kremcoins, I one shotted King Zing Sting, I navigated Bramble Blast, and I found all of the DK coins (even if it took me a while). It felt great, but I really do wonder how good it could have made me feel if I had never played it before. Sure, today I consider it a timeless classic that no one could hate, but I find myself wondering as I often do: has my ability lowered? Am I no longer capable of what I once was? Could I still have beaten this fresh if I started 5 years later? It only pisses me off because I will never know.
It was like taking a trip down memory lane, to a simpler time, to a time before I had solved every secret in the game. And it was right. I had forgotten much of my roots. Back in the day, or at least my version of the day, we struggled for hours to solve some secrets; this weekend I struggled to remember the past.
Still I had the good times revisit me. I got beat down by Klubba when I didn’t have enough kremcoins, I one shotted King Zing Sting, I navigated Bramble Blast, and I found all of the DK coins (even if it took me a while). It felt great, but I really do wonder how good it could have made me feel if I had never played it before. Sure, today I consider it a timeless classic that no one could hate, but I find myself wondering as I often do: has my ability lowered? Am I no longer capable of what I once was? Could I still have beaten this fresh if I started 5 years later? It only pisses me off because I will never know.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Defence Of The Ancients
Out from the moonlight tavern he rose: bones slowly assembling, the great King Leoric now only level one was under my command. Dawn was just breaking as the horns of war sounded; I sprinted to reach my lane in time. Waiting for me already was the infamous mogul khan Axe, equipped only with two stout shields: perfect for harassing. I subtly typed, “-di –showdeny” and began to lane.
We had great difficulties in store for us, attempting to lane against the renowned juggernaut Yunero. During his blade storm he is immune to magical damage and stun, while racking up serious damage and last hitting our creeps. Needless to say, Axe’s blood lust is not easily quenched and a simple 5 minutes into our great war, he sacrificed himself to destroy our opponent. One for one, but I was the only one to remain in the lane; Victory for the scourge. I took this opportunity to gain easy levels and get some creep kills, but we were only beginning this war.
It was Lion, the demon war witch, who was soon to leave us. I watched the countdown of his life until I could take no more. Our bot solo, burst damage specialist of the scourge was lagging out. A snide “pp” rang out from purple’s keyboard and all I could respond with was “no.” It was 4v5 now, a losing battle. As axe was not pleased particularly by the 15 more seconds he had to re-spawn, hate burned inside of him. As I left our lane to fulfill Lion’s duties Axe sprinted into our former fray, even more blood thirst than ever. After being nearly immediately slaughtered by the juggernaut, he too left us, but by choice. 3v5. Another snide remark came from the sentinel as if urging us to quit, “gg”.
Of course I could never have this. After a quick burst of team planning, Mirana, Priestess of the Moon, left mid to take on jugg, while storm was left mid to face viper and enchantress. Meanwhile I had arrived at my fate: the reason Lion left us: both a phantom assassin and a stealth assassin: Rikimaru and Mortred stood invisible on my path to victory.
For the rest you would just have to watch the replay. Needless to say, I went 12-0.
We had great difficulties in store for us, attempting to lane against the renowned juggernaut Yunero. During his blade storm he is immune to magical damage and stun, while racking up serious damage and last hitting our creeps. Needless to say, Axe’s blood lust is not easily quenched and a simple 5 minutes into our great war, he sacrificed himself to destroy our opponent. One for one, but I was the only one to remain in the lane; Victory for the scourge. I took this opportunity to gain easy levels and get some creep kills, but we were only beginning this war.
It was Lion, the demon war witch, who was soon to leave us. I watched the countdown of his life until I could take no more. Our bot solo, burst damage specialist of the scourge was lagging out. A snide “pp” rang out from purple’s keyboard and all I could respond with was “no.” It was 4v5 now, a losing battle. As axe was not pleased particularly by the 15 more seconds he had to re-spawn, hate burned inside of him. As I left our lane to fulfill Lion’s duties Axe sprinted into our former fray, even more blood thirst than ever. After being nearly immediately slaughtered by the juggernaut, he too left us, but by choice. 3v5. Another snide remark came from the sentinel as if urging us to quit, “gg”.
Of course I could never have this. After a quick burst of team planning, Mirana, Priestess of the Moon, left mid to take on jugg, while storm was left mid to face viper and enchantress. Meanwhile I had arrived at my fate: the reason Lion left us: both a phantom assassin and a stealth assassin: Rikimaru and Mortred stood invisible on my path to victory.
For the rest you would just have to watch the replay. Needless to say, I went 12-0.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)