- I got another couple assignments from Next Generation. They finally ran my modding article but the editor added a bunch of stuff about the GTA Hot Coffee Mod that's in the news. The first few paragraphs aren't by me but the rest of it is. Check it out anyways.
- The short film I produced last year is going to debut at its first film festival in a couple of weeks.
- I am not gay.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Posting for the sake of Posting
Haven't had a lot of free time at work lately. I still owe you guys a treatise on Star Wars, but that will take a while. Some news:
Friday, July 15, 2005
What the Fuck?
Not that I'm an angry or jealous person or anything, but when blogmate Savage takes an unannounced month-long leave of absence from blog-writing, he's suddenly bombarded with comments when he posts a few pictures of Belize. And from stangers too! At least people that I don't know. And here, I've been pretty prolific in the last few months and yet the comment-train on this blog has stopped pulling into the station, even from my "friends."
What gives? Do I need to start posting more pictures? Or posting less about angry basketball games? I ask you, my faithful readers, what do I need to do?
What gives? Do I need to start posting more pictures? Or posting less about angry basketball games? I ask you, my faithful readers, what do I need to do?
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Blog as anger management
Strong feelings always make me come back to blogging. When something bad or stupid or frustrating happens to me, blogging about it is sometimes the only respite I receive. Or if someone does something and I can't respond or come to any resolution through conflict, ie. yelling at the person, blogging is all I can think of doing. It's as if immortalizing the incident in the printed word is retribution enough. Or at least it's the only retribution option left to me.
So, this is what happened. Ill Wind is midway through the summer season. I wasn't going to play on the team this summer, remember how I was getting frustrated with their lacksadaiscal play. But they approached me because they didn't have enough players to form a team. I hesitated, but it was a way to get more of my people in. I brought in Brit, a lanky 6'4" center, the one position that I thought we were severely lacking. All was well and good for the first few games. We were 2-1, the loss coming from a highly skilled team.
Then last night, we had to play against a team with only 4 players. They were missing some guys. The rules state that we play for the first 10 minutes 5 on 4, and then we have the option to call a forfeit. So the game starts and, here's the kicker, we are losing from tip off. They have one less player than us and they were outscoring us, outdefending us, and outhustling us from the first shot. The team had one excellent player, a black guy with a sick shot. He was everywhere, getting rebounds, shooting threes. I felt that our team was playing at half-mast, with one hand on our dicks trying to frig ourselves into some respectable formation. We had nothing.
Ten minutes pass and we're down by 8 or so. Then, incredibly, one of their teammates leaves the gym. Suddenly, it's 5 on 3. And we're still losing. Badly. I suggest going man on the remaining three and Ill Wind just looks at me blankly. "Huh? What's man?" Eventually, I go man on the black dude while the rest of them do a zone, a little box-and-one. He got a lot less shots off, but that kind of defense falls apart when the other two get wide open shots slicing through my illustrious teammates.
We were down by 12 at the half. I didn't know if we wereforfeiting or not because the captain, Jason, hadn't made a decision. He was just as aggravated as I was but he wouldn't do anything about it. I suggested talking to the other team and giving them two of our players so that we could at least have a five on five. Once again, I was met with, "Huh?" Christ, we were in a lose-lose situation. If we won, we beat a team of three. Big Whoop. If we lost, then we lose to a team of three. Winston actually says to me, "If we lose to three guys, then we deserve a loss." Well, yes, of course, but then let's go out and make sure we win.
I forgot to mention one thing. The main guy on their team never stopped mouthing off. He had words with the refs, with me, with everyone else on my team, even people on his team. That's not uncommon in this league but with him there was a sense of maliciousness, of derision. He was unsportsmanlike, basically. He was a dick.
So the second half starts and it's more the same. Some shitty playing from Ill Wind, and the black dude making absolutely sick shots from three point land. Then the real incident happened. I didn't see this but apparently the dude actually threw the ball at Han in response to being fouled or something. Robert told the black dude to cool off. Walking down the court with the ref behind him, the dude said to Robert, "If you get in my face one more time, I'm going to punch you in the face. I'm going to put you in the hospital." He said it quiet enough that the ref didn't hear him. But I did.
I came up to the two of them and tried to get the ref's attention. "He's threatening us," I said. The ref didn't listen but I continued to try to get him to hear what's going on. Finally, the ref whistled, turned towards the scoring table and made the T with his hand. "Technical foul. Black 33. Unsportsmanlike conduct." My number is 33.
What the fuck? I get tagged with the techinical? What did I do? A player is threatening my teammate with physical violence and I get a technical. Where is the justice in that?
I didn't know what to do. I walked off the court. Told someone to go in for me and I started getting ready to leave. What's the point? I could not continue playing this sham of a game. If I had made a huge scene and screamed my head off like I felt like doing, I would have been the asshole. But if I left, I felt like I was abandoning my team and I was also being an asshole. I didn't know what to do. Eventually, I walked over to the scoring table and kept score for a long time.
We made a late game surge but still lost by 3. I made a beeline for the ref to discuss what happened. I was very clear and concise. My voice may have been high in decibels but I didn't feel like I was yelling or anything. Robert and Jason come over and try to get in on the discussion. But all they end up doing is telling me to calm down and not to yell at the ref. I a little bit flipped out at Robert, "No, I'm not going to calm down. The game is over, we're not losing anything by talking to this guy. He fucked up and I'm going to tell him why." Then I walk away, letting them handle it.
I'm boring myself talking about it. It really made me think about anger and resolution though. I don't know what made me more mad, the ref bungling or my teammates telling me to calm down. I mean, really, the only reason I stayed after the game was to yell at the ref. I felt like I earned it. Yelling would have done nothing but I craved some form of conflict, some resolution. But that was thwarted by my teammates. I found myself arguing with them instetad of with the goddamned ref.
The whole ride home I was thinking about the incident. I will never get any closure from it. The ref will never say, "I made a mistake." My teammates will never say they should have let me yell at the ref. I will never "win" this fight. All I can do is rant. I can tell others about it. I can blog about it.
And that makes me feel better, I guess.
So, this is what happened. Ill Wind is midway through the summer season. I wasn't going to play on the team this summer, remember how I was getting frustrated with their lacksadaiscal play. But they approached me because they didn't have enough players to form a team. I hesitated, but it was a way to get more of my people in. I brought in Brit, a lanky 6'4" center, the one position that I thought we were severely lacking. All was well and good for the first few games. We were 2-1, the loss coming from a highly skilled team.
Then last night, we had to play against a team with only 4 players. They were missing some guys. The rules state that we play for the first 10 minutes 5 on 4, and then we have the option to call a forfeit. So the game starts and, here's the kicker, we are losing from tip off. They have one less player than us and they were outscoring us, outdefending us, and outhustling us from the first shot. The team had one excellent player, a black guy with a sick shot. He was everywhere, getting rebounds, shooting threes. I felt that our team was playing at half-mast, with one hand on our dicks trying to frig ourselves into some respectable formation. We had nothing.
Ten minutes pass and we're down by 8 or so. Then, incredibly, one of their teammates leaves the gym. Suddenly, it's 5 on 3. And we're still losing. Badly. I suggest going man on the remaining three and Ill Wind just looks at me blankly. "Huh? What's man?" Eventually, I go man on the black dude while the rest of them do a zone, a little box-and-one. He got a lot less shots off, but that kind of defense falls apart when the other two get wide open shots slicing through my illustrious teammates.
We were down by 12 at the half. I didn't know if we wereforfeiting or not because the captain, Jason, hadn't made a decision. He was just as aggravated as I was but he wouldn't do anything about it. I suggested talking to the other team and giving them two of our players so that we could at least have a five on five. Once again, I was met with, "Huh?" Christ, we were in a lose-lose situation. If we won, we beat a team of three. Big Whoop. If we lost, then we lose to a team of three. Winston actually says to me, "If we lose to three guys, then we deserve a loss." Well, yes, of course, but then let's go out and make sure we win.
I forgot to mention one thing. The main guy on their team never stopped mouthing off. He had words with the refs, with me, with everyone else on my team, even people on his team. That's not uncommon in this league but with him there was a sense of maliciousness, of derision. He was unsportsmanlike, basically. He was a dick.
So the second half starts and it's more the same. Some shitty playing from Ill Wind, and the black dude making absolutely sick shots from three point land. Then the real incident happened. I didn't see this but apparently the dude actually threw the ball at Han in response to being fouled or something. Robert told the black dude to cool off. Walking down the court with the ref behind him, the dude said to Robert, "If you get in my face one more time, I'm going to punch you in the face. I'm going to put you in the hospital." He said it quiet enough that the ref didn't hear him. But I did.
I came up to the two of them and tried to get the ref's attention. "He's threatening us," I said. The ref didn't listen but I continued to try to get him to hear what's going on. Finally, the ref whistled, turned towards the scoring table and made the T with his hand. "Technical foul. Black 33. Unsportsmanlike conduct." My number is 33.
What the fuck? I get tagged with the techinical? What did I do? A player is threatening my teammate with physical violence and I get a technical. Where is the justice in that?
I didn't know what to do. I walked off the court. Told someone to go in for me and I started getting ready to leave. What's the point? I could not continue playing this sham of a game. If I had made a huge scene and screamed my head off like I felt like doing, I would have been the asshole. But if I left, I felt like I was abandoning my team and I was also being an asshole. I didn't know what to do. Eventually, I walked over to the scoring table and kept score for a long time.
We made a late game surge but still lost by 3. I made a beeline for the ref to discuss what happened. I was very clear and concise. My voice may have been high in decibels but I didn't feel like I was yelling or anything. Robert and Jason come over and try to get in on the discussion. But all they end up doing is telling me to calm down and not to yell at the ref. I a little bit flipped out at Robert, "No, I'm not going to calm down. The game is over, we're not losing anything by talking to this guy. He fucked up and I'm going to tell him why." Then I walk away, letting them handle it.
I'm boring myself talking about it. It really made me think about anger and resolution though. I don't know what made me more mad, the ref bungling or my teammates telling me to calm down. I mean, really, the only reason I stayed after the game was to yell at the ref. I felt like I earned it. Yelling would have done nothing but I craved some form of conflict, some resolution. But that was thwarted by my teammates. I found myself arguing with them instetad of with the goddamned ref.
The whole ride home I was thinking about the incident. I will never get any closure from it. The ref will never say, "I made a mistake." My teammates will never say they should have let me yell at the ref. I will never "win" this fight. All I can do is rant. I can tell others about it. I can blog about it.
And that makes me feel better, I guess.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Even more ...
Go to this: http://www.theonion.com/2056-06-22/. An issue of The Onion from 2056 that is making me laugh outloud in my cubicle. A couple of headlines:
- We Need A 4th Law of Robotics: Stop Fingering My Wife
- Tips For A Successful Marraige: As tempting as it may be to use time travel to resolve marital arguments, the approach is not recommended, as it tends to alter the history of mankind in spectacular and unforeseeable ways.
- Tokyo Quells Dance Dance Revolution
- What Do You Think? A Female Dolphin President?
More links
One of my "Go to" websites for the last few years has been Civfanatics.com. It's been a great resource of Civilization related news and mods with a vibrant forum community. It was really cool to check back there last week and see this. I got linked on civfanatics.
Some people complain about inlaws but not me. My brother in law has been a blog presence for a while now and I thought I'd give him a shout-out here. He had a Star Wars party recently where they watched episodes I - VI all in one day. That's a marathon. I wasn't able to attend but maybe it's for the best. My growing hatred of Lucas and general disappointment in the prequels would have probably put a damper on the event. Why do I have to ruin everything? Anyway, it looked like a lot of fun.
Some people complain about inlaws but not me. My brother in law has been a blog presence for a while now and I thought I'd give him a shout-out here. He had a Star Wars party recently where they watched episodes I - VI all in one day. That's a marathon. I wasn't able to attend but maybe it's for the best. My growing hatred of Lucas and general disappointment in the prequels would have probably put a damper on the event. Why do I have to ruin everything? Anyway, it looked like a lot of fun.
Friday, June 24, 2005
My first byline
http://www.next-gen.biz/ Click on the Civ 4 profile.
On the front page, no less. I don't know how long it will be there. They say they update it twice a day but they haven't been that regular. The site just went live on Monday. This link should last a lot longer. I'll try to keep up as long as possible.
Hopefully, the modding article will go up soon. And I hope I get paid sometime in the next six month as well.
Typical for me to look on the downside, but that's just where I've been for the past few weeks. I've already expounded about my depression. I just wanted my faithful readers to know that although seeing one's name in print may make another person feel somewhat proud, I am not that thrilled. I am, in fact, an asshat.
On the front page, no less. I don't know how long it will be there. They say they update it twice a day but they haven't been that regular. The site just went live on Monday. This link should last a lot longer. I'll try to keep up as long as possible.
Hopefully, the modding article will go up soon. And I hope I get paid sometime in the next six month as well.
Typical for me to look on the downside, but that's just where I've been for the past few weeks. I've already expounded about my depression. I just wanted my faithful readers to know that although seeing one's name in print may make another person feel somewhat proud, I am not that thrilled. I am, in fact, an asshat.
Monday, June 20, 2005
I Hate Star Wars Now
I'm in the process of composing a treatise on what went wrong with Star Wars. It's taking a while, more because I haven't found the time to write ten pages. Let it be known that I am thinking about it and will drop the bomb at some point, maybe this week.
For now, be satisfied with little web gem: http://yirmumah.net/vader/
I think that sums it up. You should hear some audio on that page, it doesn't seem to work with Firefox so try it in explorer.
For now, be satisfied with little web gem: http://yirmumah.net/vader/
I think that sums it up. You should hear some audio on that page, it doesn't seem to work with Firefox so try it in explorer.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Hmm...
Once again, its seems I am not alone.
This article interviews a couple of people who live in Williamsburg. While they are morons, all of them, I can't help but feel that their general feelings of malaise and unhappiness are similar to my own. Incidentally, I found this link by googling for "Dungeons and dragons players in new york city."
And my friend, Wil Wheaton, talks about being spread too thin in his various projects. He even references one of my favorite REM songs. If I'm not mistaken, I chose Driver 8 as one of my many nicknames for my senior blurb in the yearbook. See, I'm just like Wesley.
Last night I made a list of all the projects that I am variously involved in, whether personally or collaboratively. For lack of anything else to write about, I'm going to paste the list here.
Projects currently in development:
Idea Stage:
Getting home from School (teem comedy movie)
Fantasy Triliogy of books
Brooklyn Movie (about how I feel right now)
Jesus Christ Superstar movie set in NYC
Partial 1st drafts:
Road Trip movie (Brad and Mark in VW bus)
Erin Short film
Complete Works (apocalypse play)
Completed 1st draft:
Creation Play
This Place
Gogol (with ian)
Completed but still being work on:
The Barista (producing)
Work (movie script)
Ongoing:
Standup comedy
This article interviews a couple of people who live in Williamsburg. While they are morons, all of them, I can't help but feel that their general feelings of malaise and unhappiness are similar to my own. Incidentally, I found this link by googling for "Dungeons and dragons players in new york city."
And my friend, Wil Wheaton, talks about being spread too thin in his various projects. He even references one of my favorite REM songs. If I'm not mistaken, I chose Driver 8 as one of my many nicknames for my senior blurb in the yearbook. See, I'm just like Wesley.
Last night I made a list of all the projects that I am variously involved in, whether personally or collaboratively. For lack of anything else to write about, I'm going to paste the list here.
Projects currently in development:
Idea Stage:
Getting home from School (teem comedy movie)
Fantasy Triliogy of books
Brooklyn Movie (about how I feel right now)
Jesus Christ Superstar movie set in NYC
Partial 1st drafts:
Road Trip movie (Brad and Mark in VW bus)
Erin Short film
Complete Works (apocalypse play)
Completed 1st draft:
Creation Play
This Place
Gogol (with ian)
Completed but still being work on:
The Barista (producing)
Work (movie script)
Ongoing:
Standup comedy
That's 13 fucking things, people. And none of them are in the completely polished stage. Not one of them is something that I would feel 100% happy handing to someone who would ultimately decide if I am good or not based on that one project. That's too much stuff. I need to start concentrating on one thing and finishing it. That's kind of hard though when I can't talk to anybody about my writing. I had conversation with both Mephistopholes and Ian about that. Hopefully, they will now be more of a sounding board for me. Even if they tell me I suck, it would get me talking about the movie/play/book and get me excited to write more. And if you two bastards want to help (the only two people who read this) that would be awesome too.
And then we could give each other blowjobs.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Yes, I know...
I have been lax with posting lately. I was working very hard on those articles for Next generation last week, spending two or three hours a day on them while trying to pretend that I was working at my real job. That was time usually spent blogging being spent on potentially money-earning writing. So you can sue me for that $250 I may or may not receive from that crazy online magazine.
Writing the articles was extremely enjoyable. I don't know, maybe I'm a journalist. The Civ 4 one was pretty easy, the base of it was written in a couple of hours. I left holes in it where I thought I would insert quotes and I contacted Soren Johnson, the lead designer on Civ 4. It took a week or so but I finally got my questions answered, which was really cool to see. I wish I could post the article here but I don't own it anymore (heh, rules). I will link it though as soon as it goes live, which the editor said was June 20th. He had his fingers crossed so I'll believe when I see it.
The modding article was a little bit harder. I had to capture the entire history of modding in less than 800 words, which is difficult when you are as verbose as I am. Most of my time was spent coming up with more concise ways to say something. It was a real exercise in cutting unimportant words or paragraphs. I threw away topic sentences, concluding sentences and anything that was repeated. I eventually turned in an article that was 870 words, knowing that they would edit it down to whatever they wanted anyway.
And you know what? I don't think anything prepared me better for writing these articles than blogging. Doing this blog thing totally honed my skills of getting ideas across with the written word. I've concentrated on writing scripts and such for the last few years, it was good to write prose again. And as Mephistopholes told me last night, maybe I should go back to writing stories. I think she's trying to tell me that the various plays, movies, and standup comedy I've written aren't very good. Thanks, honey.
This leads me to my story of last night. I went to two open mics. I sucked. Awful. I didn't write anything new until right before the first one (at the Village Lantern) and it was stupid. I tried to tell jokes about the goddamn subway voice guy. It didn't go over at all. Maybe it's because I was reading from a notepad, or maybe it's because I'm a god damned idiot. Then I go to this other one and it was a sausagefest. Tons of guy's guys. Gangbangers and tit jokes were abound. My friend, Superjew, was the only girl there and she was constantly harassed for having a huge rack. I can berate these assholes all I want, but the truth is, they are all funnier than me. They may be chauvinist pricks, but they made me laugh. I go up there and bomb from the first thing that exits my mouth. "Any Yankees fans in the house?" Silence. A room of ten to twenty guys and none of them are Yankees fans? Or did they just not like me? I think it was the latter. I stumbled through my material, not even bothering to try anything new for fear of being murdered. I get off as soon as the light goes on. Fucking discouraging.
Ian (i don't know why I'm linking him, he hasn't blogged in a while) was there, he wanted to see what these open mics were all about. He got an earful of comedy. And he didn't fail to give me pointers on my totally nonrepresentative set. Thanks for the constructive criticism, Savblog, but seriously, I just wanted to shoot myself rather than be told that I put my hand in pocket. I KNOW I PUT MY FUCKING HAND IN MY POCKET ON STAGE. I do it real fucking life, why wouldn't I do it onstage? It's who the fuck I am. But I digress all over your face.
I feeling pretty dejected. I was arguing with Mephistopholes yeasterday, too. She got it in her head to tell me to quit smoking after I told her that I hadn't smoked in like 10 days. She kept saying how unhealthy it was. No shit, i never heard that before. So I told her to stop talking about it. Don't jinx it. Don't tell me to not do something that I haven't done in 10 days. Don't blow the streak. Don't talk about it. I don't want to quit because she's yelling at me to stop, you know? But did she listen? No. She kept bitching. So I hung up on her. Twice.
There I was, a failure. Walking to the L train to go home and talk to my wife who hates me right now. All i wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up. Just one little subway ride away. But guess what? The fucking L train isn't running past midnight this week. What time is it when I get there? 12:15am. Great. I didn't want to spend the last 15 bucks I had on a cab. And I was feeling like a huge piece of shit.
So I decided to walk across the Williamsburg Bridge. It took me about 90 minutes to walk from 6th ave. and 14th street to my house. It was a hot night, still over 80 at midnight. Plus I had a jacket on from doing comedy, which was promptly taken off after it got soaked through. Overall, the walk was nice. I had gone to the gym earlier so I was already sore in the legs. It really started to burn once I got to the middle of the bridge. I had only walked over the bridge once before, during the blackout. Back then, Mephistopholes and I walked on the car traffic lanes with hundreds of other people walking home. This time, it was the foot path which hovers over the car traffic.
Whatever. I thought that if I did something crazy, it would clear my brain of doubts and low self-esteem. It didn't. I thought I would get some crazy inspiration and write an awesome stand up act in the middle of the bridge. I didn't. I thought Mephistopholes would be more forgiving when I got home. She wasn't.
I have no confidence in myself. I immediately think everything I do is awful and will be criticized by my peers. The only supportive thing my wife has told me is to write more stories, which of course I interpret as meaning that I'm not good at all this other stuff I do. I am a hack. A talentless fuck with delusions of grandeur. And not even walking across the bridge will make me feel any better.
Writing the articles was extremely enjoyable. I don't know, maybe I'm a journalist. The Civ 4 one was pretty easy, the base of it was written in a couple of hours. I left holes in it where I thought I would insert quotes and I contacted Soren Johnson, the lead designer on Civ 4. It took a week or so but I finally got my questions answered, which was really cool to see. I wish I could post the article here but I don't own it anymore (heh, rules). I will link it though as soon as it goes live, which the editor said was June 20th. He had his fingers crossed so I'll believe when I see it.
The modding article was a little bit harder. I had to capture the entire history of modding in less than 800 words, which is difficult when you are as verbose as I am. Most of my time was spent coming up with more concise ways to say something. It was a real exercise in cutting unimportant words or paragraphs. I threw away topic sentences, concluding sentences and anything that was repeated. I eventually turned in an article that was 870 words, knowing that they would edit it down to whatever they wanted anyway.
And you know what? I don't think anything prepared me better for writing these articles than blogging. Doing this blog thing totally honed my skills of getting ideas across with the written word. I've concentrated on writing scripts and such for the last few years, it was good to write prose again. And as Mephistopholes told me last night, maybe I should go back to writing stories. I think she's trying to tell me that the various plays, movies, and standup comedy I've written aren't very good. Thanks, honey.
This leads me to my story of last night. I went to two open mics. I sucked. Awful. I didn't write anything new until right before the first one (at the Village Lantern) and it was stupid. I tried to tell jokes about the goddamn subway voice guy. It didn't go over at all. Maybe it's because I was reading from a notepad, or maybe it's because I'm a god damned idiot. Then I go to this other one and it was a sausagefest. Tons of guy's guys. Gangbangers and tit jokes were abound. My friend, Superjew, was the only girl there and she was constantly harassed for having a huge rack. I can berate these assholes all I want, but the truth is, they are all funnier than me. They may be chauvinist pricks, but they made me laugh. I go up there and bomb from the first thing that exits my mouth. "Any Yankees fans in the house?" Silence. A room of ten to twenty guys and none of them are Yankees fans? Or did they just not like me? I think it was the latter. I stumbled through my material, not even bothering to try anything new for fear of being murdered. I get off as soon as the light goes on. Fucking discouraging.
Ian (i don't know why I'm linking him, he hasn't blogged in a while) was there, he wanted to see what these open mics were all about. He got an earful of comedy. And he didn't fail to give me pointers on my totally nonrepresentative set. Thanks for the constructive criticism, Savblog, but seriously, I just wanted to shoot myself rather than be told that I put my hand in pocket. I KNOW I PUT MY FUCKING HAND IN MY POCKET ON STAGE. I do it real fucking life, why wouldn't I do it onstage? It's who the fuck I am. But I digress all over your face.
I feeling pretty dejected. I was arguing with Mephistopholes yeasterday, too. She got it in her head to tell me to quit smoking after I told her that I hadn't smoked in like 10 days. She kept saying how unhealthy it was. No shit, i never heard that before. So I told her to stop talking about it. Don't jinx it. Don't tell me to not do something that I haven't done in 10 days. Don't blow the streak. Don't talk about it. I don't want to quit because she's yelling at me to stop, you know? But did she listen? No. She kept bitching. So I hung up on her. Twice.
There I was, a failure. Walking to the L train to go home and talk to my wife who hates me right now. All i wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up. Just one little subway ride away. But guess what? The fucking L train isn't running past midnight this week. What time is it when I get there? 12:15am. Great. I didn't want to spend the last 15 bucks I had on a cab. And I was feeling like a huge piece of shit.
So I decided to walk across the Williamsburg Bridge. It took me about 90 minutes to walk from 6th ave. and 14th street to my house. It was a hot night, still over 80 at midnight. Plus I had a jacket on from doing comedy, which was promptly taken off after it got soaked through. Overall, the walk was nice. I had gone to the gym earlier so I was already sore in the legs. It really started to burn once I got to the middle of the bridge. I had only walked over the bridge once before, during the blackout. Back then, Mephistopholes and I walked on the car traffic lanes with hundreds of other people walking home. This time, it was the foot path which hovers over the car traffic.
Whatever. I thought that if I did something crazy, it would clear my brain of doubts and low self-esteem. It didn't. I thought I would get some crazy inspiration and write an awesome stand up act in the middle of the bridge. I didn't. I thought Mephistopholes would be more forgiving when I got home. She wasn't.
I have no confidence in myself. I immediately think everything I do is awful and will be criticized by my peers. The only supportive thing my wife has told me is to write more stories, which of course I interpret as meaning that I'm not good at all this other stuff I do. I am a hack. A talentless fuck with delusions of grandeur. And not even walking across the bridge will make me feel any better.
Friday, June 03, 2005
I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya'...
Been using the spare time at work to write the aforementioned articles. If I have to choose between writing something here, or the potentially lucrative journalist career, I'd have to choose the latter. But seeing as I can't seem to write a sentence with running it to death, I seriously doubt that I will get anything for my time. Hooray. No seriously, I get really long-winded in the articles and it's hard to figure out what to cut. I'm anticipating the editor being like, dumb it down you english majoring twat.
Some tidbits:
Some tidbits:
- I went away for the weekend. I went back to Montauk, where I spent last September, with Mephistopholes. We had a great time staying at a Bed and breakfast run by this crazy old Jewish woman. She let us use her bikes and we rode all around town, checking out the beach, the marina and the Lighthouse at The End. It was a well-needed break from the City.
- Comedy show tonight at Gotham. I'm devatatingly ill-prepared. I just wrote about half my set on my lunch break and I have yet to practice it or even say it out loud. I hope I don't suck too hard.
- I have to take a shit.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Quick Exclamation!
Last week, I read about an online magazine on Slashdot.org called Next Generation. It's geared towards game developers, producers and business guys. I wrote a quick email in response to their call for freelance writers. As I was writing it though, I realised that I wanted to write from a consumer point of view more than the business side of the industry. I gave up editing the email (I even left an unfinished sentence in there) and clicked Send, thinking I was never going to hear from these people.
Today, I did. I need to write a profile of Civ 4 and a brief history of modding. Two articles! I'm even getting paid. It's not a lot, but it's something. How fucked up is that? I've never gotten paid for writing before and I get my first job without even trying very hard.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write some kickass copy (that's what they call it in the industry.)
Today, I did. I need to write a profile of Civ 4 and a brief history of modding. Two articles! I'm even getting paid. It's not a lot, but it's something. How fucked up is that? I've never gotten paid for writing before and I get my first job without even trying very hard.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write some kickass copy (that's what they call it in the industry.)
Friday, May 20, 2005
Siesta
I've always been a big proponent of naps.
When working at Ivoryton Playhouse in my younger years, I would often stay up late doing various illegal activities. Working all day building sets in the 90 degree humid Connecticut summers would seriously deplete my energy reserves. To combat that, when I finally was in charge of my own crew, I implemented nap time after lunch. It wasn't any formal decree or anything. I would just nod off in the cool basement of theater surrounded by ancient props and furniture and left my crew to either join me or suffer in the sun. Over time, it became an institution unto itself, much to the chagrin of the production manager, one Arthur Pignataro. He was an aging queen who believed his sole purpose at the theater was to rob it's mostly sub-20 year old work staff of any kind of enjoyment in the workplace. Did he think we were doing this job for the money? No, we did it so we could drink until the wee hours on someone else's property and sometimes put on some shows.
But I digress.
I continued this trend of taking naps during the day while working at various theaters in the City. One especially, NYTW, had great couches and I worked there off and on for years simply because I could take naps. That's not exactly true, I loved the group of people I worked with simply because of their semi-carefree demeanor matched my own. But the naps were key, because I reasoned that a 15 min. nap in the middle of the day was the equivalent to four hours of sleep at night. That way, I could stay up till 4 in the morning and still work the next day by getting a nap during lunch. Most of the workers didn't get my drift but soon I was competing for space on the dressing room couches with my coworkers.
It seems I am not alone in thinking naps are great for increasing productivity. The Spanish and most Latin American countries, according to what I learned in school (I have no idea if this is true or not anymore), have employed a mandatory siesta for years. I've heard Japanese businessmen can rent a Pod for 15 minute intervals which plunges them in complete darkness and even pumps in the music of their choice. I thought this was only limited to Japan but a quick google search brought me to the attention of MetroNaps. There's one right near me in the Empire State Building, but the $15/nap price tag may be too much for daily nap consumption. And this article from the BBC states that British corporations are looking into incorporating nap-rooms or napnasiums into new office floor-plans.
Since joining the office workforce a year ago, I've had to curtail my midday napping. There's just no way to properly conceal the fact that you are sleeping at your cubicle without someone bigwig noticing. And there's nothing I'd rather do after big lunch then close my eyes and grab something close to 40 or so winks. Perhaps I eat too much but that's another story. I haven't been able to participate in my chosen lunchtime pastime. But as it began to get warmer these last few weeks, I've wanted to curl up in the sun. By my building at 320 Park Ave., there are a few public areas. One even has a fountain which adds a nice ambient gurgling to the normal aural cityscape. I have to admit on the more sunny days recently, I have lain on the often bird shit-speckled stones and slept in full view of the thousands of pedestrians on Park Ave. While this is somewhat enjoyable (the sun om my face is nice), the hard marble surface is not very conducive to a restful sleep. I wake up rubbing the places where my body was in contact with the stone.
Luckily, I've found an alternative. Right across the street from my office building is St. Bart's church. I am an atheist, so I have a natural aversion to churches. It took me months before I ever wandered into St. Bart's, just to see what it was all about. Admittedly, it is a very beautiful specimen of Byzantine architecture. Something about it's interior is very peaceful, maybe it's the stones, maybe it's the huge sweeping arches, maybe it's the fact that it's an Episcopalian church so it doesn't have all the trappings of guilt and doom that Catholic churches do for me. I walked in and out and didn't think much of it. That is, until I began my unconscious search for a place to sleep at 2:30pm every day.
This week my routine has been this: get out of work around 2pm, get some udon noodles from the cafe, chow down while reading John Irving's Son of the Circus (a surprisingly great book, not one of his better-known), escape onto the streets of Manhattan to smoke (I quit today) while making my way to St. Bart's, choose an out of the way pew (this took a while to discover, I tried to pick one behind on of the many columns which would provide the least amount of view to any passerby), lay down and sleep while listening to the organ being tuned or whispered conversations or the very faint sounds of the New York City streets. The pews are not very comfortable, they seem to be covered by ancient cushioning that is only marginally less injury-inducing than the marble outside. They are kind of thin so one arm is always sliding off. I've discovered the answer to this today though as I moved the kneelers (eight inch thick cushions, something which would never be seen in catholic churches) and stacked them so my right elbow has something to lie on.
It's the perfect napping place, without having to pay a cent (fuck you MetroNap!). So far, no one has asked me to leave or even to sit up. There are always homeless people in there so I guess they must think a guy in a suit isn't much worse. And I get my 15 minute nap and get back to work refreshed so that I can blog with more efficiency. Every day this week.
When working at Ivoryton Playhouse in my younger years, I would often stay up late doing various illegal activities. Working all day building sets in the 90 degree humid Connecticut summers would seriously deplete my energy reserves. To combat that, when I finally was in charge of my own crew, I implemented nap time after lunch. It wasn't any formal decree or anything. I would just nod off in the cool basement of theater surrounded by ancient props and furniture and left my crew to either join me or suffer in the sun. Over time, it became an institution unto itself, much to the chagrin of the production manager, one Arthur Pignataro. He was an aging queen who believed his sole purpose at the theater was to rob it's mostly sub-20 year old work staff of any kind of enjoyment in the workplace. Did he think we were doing this job for the money? No, we did it so we could drink until the wee hours on someone else's property and sometimes put on some shows.
But I digress.
I continued this trend of taking naps during the day while working at various theaters in the City. One especially, NYTW, had great couches and I worked there off and on for years simply because I could take naps. That's not exactly true, I loved the group of people I worked with simply because of their semi-carefree demeanor matched my own. But the naps were key, because I reasoned that a 15 min. nap in the middle of the day was the equivalent to four hours of sleep at night. That way, I could stay up till 4 in the morning and still work the next day by getting a nap during lunch. Most of the workers didn't get my drift but soon I was competing for space on the dressing room couches with my coworkers.
It seems I am not alone in thinking naps are great for increasing productivity. The Spanish and most Latin American countries, according to what I learned in school (I have no idea if this is true or not anymore), have employed a mandatory siesta for years. I've heard Japanese businessmen can rent a Pod for 15 minute intervals which plunges them in complete darkness and even pumps in the music of their choice. I thought this was only limited to Japan but a quick google search brought me to the attention of MetroNaps. There's one right near me in the Empire State Building, but the $15/nap price tag may be too much for daily nap consumption. And this article from the BBC states that British corporations are looking into incorporating nap-rooms or napnasiums into new office floor-plans.
Since joining the office workforce a year ago, I've had to curtail my midday napping. There's just no way to properly conceal the fact that you are sleeping at your cubicle without someone bigwig noticing. And there's nothing I'd rather do after big lunch then close my eyes and grab something close to 40 or so winks. Perhaps I eat too much but that's another story. I haven't been able to participate in my chosen lunchtime pastime. But as it began to get warmer these last few weeks, I've wanted to curl up in the sun. By my building at 320 Park Ave., there are a few public areas. One even has a fountain which adds a nice ambient gurgling to the normal aural cityscape. I have to admit on the more sunny days recently, I have lain on the often bird shit-speckled stones and slept in full view of the thousands of pedestrians on Park Ave. While this is somewhat enjoyable (the sun om my face is nice), the hard marble surface is not very conducive to a restful sleep. I wake up rubbing the places where my body was in contact with the stone.
Luckily, I've found an alternative. Right across the street from my office building is St. Bart's church. I am an atheist, so I have a natural aversion to churches. It took me months before I ever wandered into St. Bart's, just to see what it was all about. Admittedly, it is a very beautiful specimen of Byzantine architecture. Something about it's interior is very peaceful, maybe it's the stones, maybe it's the huge sweeping arches, maybe it's the fact that it's an Episcopalian church so it doesn't have all the trappings of guilt and doom that Catholic churches do for me. I walked in and out and didn't think much of it. That is, until I began my unconscious search for a place to sleep at 2:30pm every day.
This week my routine has been this: get out of work around 2pm, get some udon noodles from the cafe, chow down while reading John Irving's Son of the Circus (a surprisingly great book, not one of his better-known), escape onto the streets of Manhattan to smoke (I quit today) while making my way to St. Bart's, choose an out of the way pew (this took a while to discover, I tried to pick one behind on of the many columns which would provide the least amount of view to any passerby), lay down and sleep while listening to the organ being tuned or whispered conversations or the very faint sounds of the New York City streets. The pews are not very comfortable, they seem to be covered by ancient cushioning that is only marginally less injury-inducing than the marble outside. They are kind of thin so one arm is always sliding off. I've discovered the answer to this today though as I moved the kneelers (eight inch thick cushions, something which would never be seen in catholic churches) and stacked them so my right elbow has something to lie on.
It's the perfect napping place, without having to pay a cent (fuck you MetroNap!). So far, no one has asked me to leave or even to sit up. There are always homeless people in there so I guess they must think a guy in a suit isn't much worse. And I get my 15 minute nap and get back to work refreshed so that I can blog with more efficiency. Every day this week.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Titles, Titles, Titles
So I put some more links on the sidebar. Rain Delay, who I've linked enough already, was added to the blogs. PVP by Scott Kurtz was added because I've talked about him before, but never got around to putting him on the illustrious sidebar.
But the real gem is the Thundercats Outtakes. Remember that old cartoon from the 80s with the furries running around fighting evil? This site has 11 mp3s of the actors screwing up the voiceover for the show. To hear Lion-O swear or Mumm-ra get a little frisky, I have to say that it breaks down every thing that I thought was good or wholesome in the world.
But the real gem is the Thundercats Outtakes. Remember that old cartoon from the 80s with the furries running around fighting evil? This site has 11 mp3s of the actors screwing up the voiceover for the show. To hear Lion-O swear or Mumm-ra get a little frisky, I have to say that it breaks down every thing that I thought was good or wholesome in the world.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
I'm starting to hate my basketball team
Seriously. Ill Wind sucks. After crawling back to .500, we've flat out sucked. Actually, that's not quite true. We got a win last night, despite being blown out 95-54. Yeah, you read that right. 41 points separated us from the victors and yet we still won. Sound confusing? Yes, it does.
The team in our league, Ramsa I believe (the team that we best despite losing 2 players to injuries), forfeited because they didn't have enough players. Rather than just not playing the game, the NYURBAN league said we could go to a different gym to play a team at 9pm. We would already get the win in our league, and still be able to play a game. What fun!
Except that this team we played consisted of 6'9" guys who could dunk. Within 5 minutes, we were down by 20 and it became a rout. They were swatting our shots, stealing the ball from our sub-par ball handlers, tossing outlet passes and generally running us to death. That's not that big a deal, I kind of expected it after seeing them warm up. What pissed me off was their constant banter. They wanted to run up the score on us. They were competing to see who had the most points between them. They were laughing and cheering each other on to the point where it became disrespectful.
I got mad. Early on, one guy was bouncing the ball above my head while I was trying to grab it. He was toying with me, like we play with fucking cats with a string. Whatever else I am, I am not a pussy. After he got better control and passed it ahead, I elbowed him in the chest. Hard. The refs didn't see it, but their super tall center did.
"I saw that man. Just play the game." He had a good point, but I had to get something off my chest.
"I just feel like I'm being played with, not being played against."
He nodded and said, "Just have fun."
I said ok and gave the guy who I originally elbowed my hand and he took it. "No worries."
After that, it was a little more tolerable. They didn't block every shot or score everytime down the court. The big guy, the center, I could tell was letting me drive in the lane and score. That was a little frustrating too (what's the point of playing if they LET you score?) but I guess it's better than nothing.
The banter and yelling and laughing didn't really stop though and that's what really bothered me. The worse part was that they brought their 2 girlfriends to the game to keep the score and those bitches wouldn't shut up. They were more disrespectful than everyone else. At one point, near the end of the game, I got fouled going to the basket. All of them were complaining to the ref, "Don't bail him out!" True, I prolly wasn't going to make the shot that I took over 3 defenders but I did get fouled. The two "ladies" on the sideline were the worst about it though, they actually screamed as I was taking my foul shots. As if we were playing in a college game or something and the student section was going to break my concentration. That kind of shit is just not done in this league.
To top it off, this shifty Asian guard decided it would be funny during a fast break to put a lay up in one of the practice hoops on the sideline. Hilarious. The refs called it out of bounds but I screamed at her (a women ref, rare) "Can we get some respect from the other team? Give em a technical" She didn't say anything and gave the ball to Robert to inbound. Robert had some words for me, however, telling me to cool off. What?
Let me back up with a little bit about Robert, our four-foot tall Italian point guard who shoots left-handed but can only dribble with his right hand (figure that one out). He's been taking the stance in games lately that whenever we bitch at the refs, we lose our composure and, subsequently, the game. In some ways, he's right, but in most of the ways, he's full of shit. Getting fired up is what sports is all about. To have that constantly taken away and deflated by a teammate gets a little annoying. And this time, I wasn't even btiching at the refs about their calls. I was pissed that this chick wasn't doing anything to curtail the disrespect. If anything, she was encouraging it by laughing with them. That's bullshit and I have a right to get fucking pissed about it. Don't tell me to cool down, you fucking fuck. Why don't you go turn over the ball by dribbling into the corner again?
Well, whatever. We still won the game.
I would like dedicate that last paragraph to Rain Delay and his treatise on swearing in the workplace. I hope I made up for it by painting this blog as blue as Lenny Bruce in a women's prison.
The team in our league, Ramsa I believe (the team that we best despite losing 2 players to injuries), forfeited because they didn't have enough players. Rather than just not playing the game, the NYURBAN league said we could go to a different gym to play a team at 9pm. We would already get the win in our league, and still be able to play a game. What fun!
Except that this team we played consisted of 6'9" guys who could dunk. Within 5 minutes, we were down by 20 and it became a rout. They were swatting our shots, stealing the ball from our sub-par ball handlers, tossing outlet passes and generally running us to death. That's not that big a deal, I kind of expected it after seeing them warm up. What pissed me off was their constant banter. They wanted to run up the score on us. They were competing to see who had the most points between them. They were laughing and cheering each other on to the point where it became disrespectful.
I got mad. Early on, one guy was bouncing the ball above my head while I was trying to grab it. He was toying with me, like we play with fucking cats with a string. Whatever else I am, I am not a pussy. After he got better control and passed it ahead, I elbowed him in the chest. Hard. The refs didn't see it, but their super tall center did.
"I saw that man. Just play the game." He had a good point, but I had to get something off my chest.
"I just feel like I'm being played with, not being played against."
He nodded and said, "Just have fun."
I said ok and gave the guy who I originally elbowed my hand and he took it. "No worries."
After that, it was a little more tolerable. They didn't block every shot or score everytime down the court. The big guy, the center, I could tell was letting me drive in the lane and score. That was a little frustrating too (what's the point of playing if they LET you score?) but I guess it's better than nothing.
The banter and yelling and laughing didn't really stop though and that's what really bothered me. The worse part was that they brought their 2 girlfriends to the game to keep the score and those bitches wouldn't shut up. They were more disrespectful than everyone else. At one point, near the end of the game, I got fouled going to the basket. All of them were complaining to the ref, "Don't bail him out!" True, I prolly wasn't going to make the shot that I took over 3 defenders but I did get fouled. The two "ladies" on the sideline were the worst about it though, they actually screamed as I was taking my foul shots. As if we were playing in a college game or something and the student section was going to break my concentration. That kind of shit is just not done in this league.
To top it off, this shifty Asian guard decided it would be funny during a fast break to put a lay up in one of the practice hoops on the sideline. Hilarious. The refs called it out of bounds but I screamed at her (a women ref, rare) "Can we get some respect from the other team? Give em a technical" She didn't say anything and gave the ball to Robert to inbound. Robert had some words for me, however, telling me to cool off. What?
Let me back up with a little bit about Robert, our four-foot tall Italian point guard who shoots left-handed but can only dribble with his right hand (figure that one out). He's been taking the stance in games lately that whenever we bitch at the refs, we lose our composure and, subsequently, the game. In some ways, he's right, but in most of the ways, he's full of shit. Getting fired up is what sports is all about. To have that constantly taken away and deflated by a teammate gets a little annoying. And this time, I wasn't even btiching at the refs about their calls. I was pissed that this chick wasn't doing anything to curtail the disrespect. If anything, she was encouraging it by laughing with them. That's bullshit and I have a right to get fucking pissed about it. Don't tell me to cool down, you fucking fuck. Why don't you go turn over the ball by dribbling into the corner again?
Well, whatever. We still won the game.
I would like dedicate that last paragraph to Rain Delay and his treatise on swearing in the workplace. I hope I made up for it by painting this blog as blue as Lenny Bruce in a women's prison.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
And if I didn't say it well enough...
Here's a guy from Sony Online Entertainment (Everquest, Star Wars:Galazies) who expounds on his theory of fun in an Op-Ed piece in the LA Times.
E3 is this week. I wish I could go. I'm going to make it my goal to go in 2006, no matter what else goes on. Even if I have a baby and Mephistopholes has some strange form of flu and can't take care of the baby herself, and I have no more vacation days, I will call the in the Nanny 911, fake a stomach cramp at work and get my ass to LA.
Just look at all the goodies on display for E3 2005. That Xbox 360 looks badass. Time to start saving for that $400.
E3 is this week. I wish I could go. I'm going to make it my goal to go in 2006, no matter what else goes on. Even if I have a baby and Mephistopholes has some strange form of flu and can't take care of the baby herself, and I have no more vacation days, I will call the in the Nanny 911, fake a stomach cramp at work and get my ass to LA.
Just look at all the goodies on display for E3 2005. That Xbox 360 looks badass. Time to start saving for that $400.
Monday, May 16, 2005
Love of Warcraft
I got to play a lot of video games yesterday, it being Sunday and the lack of any scheduled activities. Mephistopheles was a little angered by my chosen pursuit for the day but it was something that needed to be done. Brantley has reached level 60, where he will stay for a very long time. I will post more about WOW perhaps later, but for now I want to talk about something else.
I might've talked about this before but it's something that always bothers me. Why is the playing of video games an awful thing to do? It's judged to be a juvenile hobby. "There are so many better things to do with your time." A man who enjoys videogames is somehow "not-grown-up" or deemed immature. I really don't understand where this negative portrayal came from.
Video games are a new medium. They were really only conceived less than 30 years ago. Their use of computing technology has always been at the forefront of the industry, pushing the limits of what processing power was available to the consumer. Games have been popular with young men who, I would suppose ( I don't have the stats to back this up but it seems reasonable), have a higher than average IQ. Nerds and Geeks basically. These nerds and geeks, as everyone past the age of 18 knows by now, grow up eventually to become the most productive parts of our society, the engineers or the software designers or the doctors. Why then is the playing of videogames always a bad thing?
I may be stretching logic there, but the truth is that I prefer playing videogames to sitting and watching TV. The hours spent watching crap like "Newlyweds" and "American Idol" is somehow more valuable than playing Civilization 3. In one, I can learn that Jessica Simpson is retarded, in the other, I learn that the Mayans can indeed take over South America with the right combination of Javelin Throwers and Spearmen. Why is it preferable in some people's eyes to veg out and not move or think for hours, rather than having your cognitive ability constantly firing while making decisions in a virtual world?
Many may argue that TV is no better than games and that we should all go outside and enjoy the open air. This is valid and I must say that balancing indoor activities with outdoor ones is always preferable. But that's not what I'm talking about. If you say to an average housewife (and here I'm really just talking about my own Mephistopheles yet saying it's a cross-section of society, sue me), "Hey Hon, I just watched 4 hours of Comedy Central," or if you say, "Babe, I just played 4 hours of WOW non-stop and made level 60," which do you think will bring more derision?
And I think that's fucked up. This is a rambling, not well thought-out post. I'll admit that. But what I'm saying is true. Video games is a medium no different than Film, books or TV and they should be judged the same. We need to end this irrational, Motherly hatred of something we don't understand.
I might've talked about this before but it's something that always bothers me. Why is the playing of video games an awful thing to do? It's judged to be a juvenile hobby. "There are so many better things to do with your time." A man who enjoys videogames is somehow "not-grown-up" or deemed immature. I really don't understand where this negative portrayal came from.
Video games are a new medium. They were really only conceived less than 30 years ago. Their use of computing technology has always been at the forefront of the industry, pushing the limits of what processing power was available to the consumer. Games have been popular with young men who, I would suppose ( I don't have the stats to back this up but it seems reasonable), have a higher than average IQ. Nerds and Geeks basically. These nerds and geeks, as everyone past the age of 18 knows by now, grow up eventually to become the most productive parts of our society, the engineers or the software designers or the doctors. Why then is the playing of videogames always a bad thing?
I may be stretching logic there, but the truth is that I prefer playing videogames to sitting and watching TV. The hours spent watching crap like "Newlyweds" and "American Idol" is somehow more valuable than playing Civilization 3. In one, I can learn that Jessica Simpson is retarded, in the other, I learn that the Mayans can indeed take over South America with the right combination of Javelin Throwers and Spearmen. Why is it preferable in some people's eyes to veg out and not move or think for hours, rather than having your cognitive ability constantly firing while making decisions in a virtual world?
Many may argue that TV is no better than games and that we should all go outside and enjoy the open air. This is valid and I must say that balancing indoor activities with outdoor ones is always preferable. But that's not what I'm talking about. If you say to an average housewife (and here I'm really just talking about my own Mephistopheles yet saying it's a cross-section of society, sue me), "Hey Hon, I just watched 4 hours of Comedy Central," or if you say, "Babe, I just played 4 hours of WOW non-stop and made level 60," which do you think will bring more derision?
And I think that's fucked up. This is a rambling, not well thought-out post. I'll admit that. But what I'm saying is true. Video games is a medium no different than Film, books or TV and they should be judged the same. We need to end this irrational, Motherly hatred of something we don't understand.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
More to talk about on the internet to people who don't really care anyway
My friend, Rain Delay, made a recent post about the nature of blogging. It's a strange animal, this blogging business. A Zebra with rainbow stripes that lives in Antarctica. A freak of nature that's absolutely incredible to look at but that no one will ever see.
Not that this blog is incredible, but I do wonder at my semi-dedication to it when there are so few who actually read it. What's the point? Is it as Rain Delay says, blogs have become just a means to a book deal instead of a real journal? Is that why I chose to do this?
I am a self-proclaimed writer with a serious procrastination/motivation problem. I abhor the physical act of writing so much that I will almost choose anything else to do before writing. And yet, it's my chosen vocation. I am the most happy, the most proud of myself when I put words down on a page. But I rarely do it. I have so many movies, plays, books in various states of development because I lack the drive to finish them.
This blog allows me the short term success. It let's me put words down in an order of my choosing and then press Publish Post. My thoughts and words are then immediately placed in the public arena for comment. But it doesn't really matter if anybody reads it, this whole thing is really for me. I actually was doing this for months before I told anyone about it.
Only Zuul is about me writing. That's it. And if someone sees the Rainbow Zebra in Antarctica, that's pure gravy.
Not that this blog is incredible, but I do wonder at my semi-dedication to it when there are so few who actually read it. What's the point? Is it as Rain Delay says, blogs have become just a means to a book deal instead of a real journal? Is that why I chose to do this?
I am a self-proclaimed writer with a serious procrastination/motivation problem. I abhor the physical act of writing so much that I will almost choose anything else to do before writing. And yet, it's my chosen vocation. I am the most happy, the most proud of myself when I put words down on a page. But I rarely do it. I have so many movies, plays, books in various states of development because I lack the drive to finish them.
This blog allows me the short term success. It let's me put words down in an order of my choosing and then press Publish Post. My thoughts and words are then immediately placed in the public arena for comment. But it doesn't really matter if anybody reads it, this whole thing is really for me. I actually was doing this for months before I told anyone about it.
Only Zuul is about me writing. That's it. And if someone sees the Rainbow Zebra in Antarctica, that's pure gravy.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
I had me a bad game
Ill Wind had their 5th game of the season on Tuesday. If you remember, we got quite beat up in the previous game but prevailed to even up our record to 2-2. As we enter the second half of the season (only 8 games) our confidence was high, all pistons firing with a modicum of success.
That's usually where it all falls apart and this game was no excepation. We played a team called Trip Dorkeys (I don't know what that's all about) and had a generally awful game. After an opening 3-pointer from Mike, we did not score. Nothing went in. We were getting good looks from 5, 10 feet out but nothing dropped. It was ridiculous. I had maybe two or three shots in the paint and they just seemed to go nowhere. My shots weren't even close, careening off the backboard at weird angles, not even hitting the rim. Christ, we played like the Bad News Bears without a charming drunk guy coaching us or any chance to gain sympathy for being cute little kids.
At the half, we had only scored 10 points, 3 of which came at the buzzer from a Winston perimeter shot. The other team, led by a 6'11" dude, had 24. Those guys weren't particually good, except for the big guy, but they perfected the high post inlet pass to which Winston (with his bad ankle) and I could do nothing. And, as opposed to Ill Wind, Trip Dorkeys couldn't miss. I think I only had 1 rebound in the first half and it wasn't from not having position, it was from them not missing, ever.
The second half started and we had a little bit of momentum from Winston's buzzer-beater. I can't say that we ran at them, but we did hit a string of threes. Robert had 3 over the course of a few minutes. Suddenly we were back into it. The outside shooting helped open up the inside and I was able to pass to Winston on a couple of cuts to the hole. But even with a few assists, I have to say it was my worst game in a long time. I just didn't play well. I turned the ball over, I missed all kinds of shots, and I didn't do the one thing that the team expects of me, rebound. It was as if the ball just wasn't bouncing to me, but more than that, I lacked any kind of drive to get the ball. A few times I lazily grabbed a missed shot, only to have it snatched away. We ended up losing by six, 32-26. Trip Dorkeys scored less in the second half than we did in the first but it wasn't enough to get past them.
Who knows why I sucked? Perhaps I was over-confident from last week's game. Perhaps I shouldn't have jerked off right before the game. Perhaps I shouldn't have smoked that cigarette at lunch or that bowl after work. But with Jason out and Winston still hurting, I needed to step up.
And I tripped while running up the stairs, embarassing myself in front of everyone in the subway called Ill Wind.
That's usually where it all falls apart and this game was no excepation. We played a team called Trip Dorkeys (I don't know what that's all about) and had a generally awful game. After an opening 3-pointer from Mike, we did not score. Nothing went in. We were getting good looks from 5, 10 feet out but nothing dropped. It was ridiculous. I had maybe two or three shots in the paint and they just seemed to go nowhere. My shots weren't even close, careening off the backboard at weird angles, not even hitting the rim. Christ, we played like the Bad News Bears without a charming drunk guy coaching us or any chance to gain sympathy for being cute little kids.
At the half, we had only scored 10 points, 3 of which came at the buzzer from a Winston perimeter shot. The other team, led by a 6'11" dude, had 24. Those guys weren't particually good, except for the big guy, but they perfected the high post inlet pass to which Winston (with his bad ankle) and I could do nothing. And, as opposed to Ill Wind, Trip Dorkeys couldn't miss. I think I only had 1 rebound in the first half and it wasn't from not having position, it was from them not missing, ever.
The second half started and we had a little bit of momentum from Winston's buzzer-beater. I can't say that we ran at them, but we did hit a string of threes. Robert had 3 over the course of a few minutes. Suddenly we were back into it. The outside shooting helped open up the inside and I was able to pass to Winston on a couple of cuts to the hole. But even with a few assists, I have to say it was my worst game in a long time. I just didn't play well. I turned the ball over, I missed all kinds of shots, and I didn't do the one thing that the team expects of me, rebound. It was as if the ball just wasn't bouncing to me, but more than that, I lacked any kind of drive to get the ball. A few times I lazily grabbed a missed shot, only to have it snatched away. We ended up losing by six, 32-26. Trip Dorkeys scored less in the second half than we did in the first but it wasn't enough to get past them.
Who knows why I sucked? Perhaps I was over-confident from last week's game. Perhaps I shouldn't have jerked off right before the game. Perhaps I shouldn't have smoked that cigarette at lunch or that bowl after work. But with Jason out and Winston still hurting, I needed to step up.
And I tripped while running up the stairs, embarassing myself in front of everyone in the subway called Ill Wind.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Tidbits, biatch.
ILL WIND: I've neglected to inform my loyal readers of Ill Wind developments. Last week, right before I went to see Ben Folds, we played another team that whose average height was over 6 feet. And it was another physical game. We led through most of the first half, I can't tell you why other than more of our shots seemed to go in than theirs did. But a couple of minutes before the end of the half, Winston twisted and sprained his ankle. It swelled up to disturbing proporations in a matter of moments. So there we are without our tallest player and top scorer for the rest of the game. Right after I subbed in for Winston at center, Jason was defending a player on the perimeter and gets an elbow to the chin. He goes down, in obvious pain, and needs to be subbed out (Note: somehow, Jason got called for the foul on the play.) Luckily, Mike was there that night and we managed the second half with only 5 unhurt players. The game was tight, it came down to gutsy plays and foul shots. I was able to get one coast to coast layup while getting fouled which made me pump my fist in the air. Of course I missed the foul shot but it didn't matter. We squeaked by and won by 2 despite the agonizing amount of fouls called in the last minute, both teams were well into double-bonus by that point. Winston had his foot elevated after the game and there was talk of hospitals. Jason also seemed to have punctured his lower lip with his tooth as a result of being hit in the face. I guess he got called for the foul because he headbutted the guy with his chin. Yeah, that makes sense. Ill Wind is now 2-2, but there has been no word if our players will survive to play tomorrow. Stay tuned for the next heart-breakingly exciting Ill Wind update.
STAND UP: I don't think I've ever mentioned it on here but I have been attempting to be a stand-up comic here in NYC. After taking a class with my mic-mate, the illustrious J-Date, I've performed at Caroline's twice. I've got another gig there coming up on May 25th, my first Wednesday show. J-Date and I are both going on at 7pm. Before that I have another gig at Gotham Comedy Club on the 13th of May, a FRIDAY! It's a 6:30pm show but whatever, it will be good. I really need to write some new stuff and go to some open-mics. The stand up scene here is all about stagetime. It's about getting as many minutes up there in front of people as is humanly possible so you test out what works and what doesn't. It's also about longevity. "I've been doing this for 15 years," demands instant respect over someone who is just starting out. But if you ask me, if you've been doing it for 15 years and you're going to the same open-mics as me, there might be a problem. You might not be funny. I don't have that problem. I know i'm not funny.
HHGTTG: Douglas Adams was a genius. The books/radio show he created are nothing short of hilarious, and even insightful. The recent movie, which I was very excited to see since I knew that Adams had written a version of the screenplay, bears little to no resemblance to the original. I realize that changes to story or character details need to happen in any adaptation, Adams himself was famous for changing his concept from radio script to books and so forth. But what we have in the film released on Friday is a complete change of tone. HHGTTG has a dry, sarcastic, British wit. The movie is an unfunny action sci-fi film about the importance of experiencing new things in order to impress women (I'm not joking.) Here's in short some good and points about the adaptation.
STAND UP: I don't think I've ever mentioned it on here but I have been attempting to be a stand-up comic here in NYC. After taking a class with my mic-mate, the illustrious J-Date, I've performed at Caroline's twice. I've got another gig there coming up on May 25th, my first Wednesday show. J-Date and I are both going on at 7pm. Before that I have another gig at Gotham Comedy Club on the 13th of May, a FRIDAY! It's a 6:30pm show but whatever, it will be good. I really need to write some new stuff and go to some open-mics. The stand up scene here is all about stagetime. It's about getting as many minutes up there in front of people as is humanly possible so you test out what works and what doesn't. It's also about longevity. "I've been doing this for 15 years," demands instant respect over someone who is just starting out. But if you ask me, if you've been doing it for 15 years and you're going to the same open-mics as me, there might be a problem. You might not be funny. I don't have that problem. I know i'm not funny.
HHGTTG: Douglas Adams was a genius. The books/radio show he created are nothing short of hilarious, and even insightful. The recent movie, which I was very excited to see since I knew that Adams had written a version of the screenplay, bears little to no resemblance to the original. I realize that changes to story or character details need to happen in any adaptation, Adams himself was famous for changing his concept from radio script to books and so forth. But what we have in the film released on Friday is a complete change of tone. HHGTTG has a dry, sarcastic, British wit. The movie is an unfunny action sci-fi film about the importance of experiencing new things in order to impress women (I'm not joking.) Here's in short some good and points about the adaptation.
- I liked a short bit about how Arthur Dent met Ford Prefect by saving his life from a speeding car with which Ford was attempting to shake hands.
- I hated that no mention was made to Ford having a last name at all, probably because the joke of England having so many of a certain model of car in 1980 (the Ford Prefect) that he was so named to fit in with the dominant lifeform on Earth. In the movie, he is just called Ford, which seems like a cheap fix.
- I liked Slartibartfast played by Bill Nighy. He got the nervous Britishman who had the unfortunate name down. A rarely subtle performance in this movie.
- I hated that he ends the film (SPOILER) by finishing a newly constucted Earth and presenting it to Arthur Dent.
- I liked Zaphod Beeblebrox's costume.
- I hated Sam Rockwell as Zaphod Beeblebrox. Zaphod was supposed to be an egotistical asshole, but to play him as an American cowboy with no intelligence or wit was a bad choice. SPOILER(FOR THOSE WHO WOULD EVEN CARE) To make matters worse, Zaphod gets his 2nd head cut off and he must play half the movie as an imbecile. Which wasn't that much off from the performance to begin with. I like Rockwell in nearly everything i've seen him in, but either he or the directors totally screwed up with this one.
There is so much more that bothers me about the movie, perhaps I will post more but I'd rather just forget the whole thing if that's all right with you.
If you read the books or like Douglas Adams (who luckily died before this movie came out) at all, avoid this movie. If you like your intelligence or you like to laugh, avoid this movie. If you like agreeing with me wholeheartedly on this blog, see the film and post comments why you hated it too.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
All about Ben.
This Tuesday, I went to see Ben Folds play at Tower Records in Lincoln Center. He played for about 40 minutes and then was available to sign stuff. I waited in line with my friend Feldman and got Ben's new CD signed and got a picture with him.
Ben and I in love.
I was introduced to Ben Folds in a pretty normal way. I heard his song, "Battle of Who Could Care Less," on the radio in Ithaca, NY. I was working as a carpenter at the Hangar Theatre the summer after my freshman year of college, 1997. In the shop, we listened to all of our CDs quite a bit (the cd player was one of those 6 disc car changers so we would get bored of 6 albums at a time), but when the radio was on, it was tuned to the Ithaca College station, WICB 91.7fm. They played "Battle..." a lot that summer and I fell in love with the funny, anti-slacker lyrics. I thought Ben Folds was mocking my friends (I knew people who dressed like the Cure in high school) and that it was hilarious.
What does he sound like? The band was known for it's guitar-less lineup of piano, drums and bass. Ben's been called the American Elton John or the Billy Joel of our generation, but he's got too many roots in 80s hair metal for those comparisons. Most of the people who read this crazy thing prolly know already but for those of you who don't, the simplest way to describe Ben Folds is piano-driven pop rock.
On a whim at the indy record store in Ithaca, I acquired (that's a whole 'nother blog) Ben Folds Five's second record, Whatever and Ever Amen. It's a stellar album to this day. (Check out the newly released remastered version with some great bonus tracks.) The comical simplicity of tracks like "Song For The Dumped" and "Stephen's Last Night In Town" is deceptive. Ben's songwriting is unfettered with pretension, yet there is a lot of subtlety to it. It's hard to explain, but trust me, it rocks.
I introduced Whatever... to my blogmate, Ian, and he loved it so much that he got Ben Folds Five's self-titled disc, which came out in 1995. At first, I was skeptical of listening to another album. I loved Whatever... so much that I didn't want to spoil it with what the band did before. I needn't have worried, the record has so many gems on it that I actually like it better now. "Best Imitation of Myself" is pure genius, describing the posturing we go through in order to impress. And "Underground" is an anthem for all the kids who didn't like sports or pep rallies and found nose rings attractive (Even that's an over-simplification, because that song also satirizes those same people for their backwards pretension. See, I told you it was complicated.)
The music is also really fun to sing. I don't have a good voice, I'm pretty much tone-deaf, but I love to sing to music on the radio, especially in the car. Ben Fold's songs usually have lots of backing vocals (especially the 1st album) and a driving, almost Showtune-like, melody to the lyrics that you can't refuse to rock out to. And when you're going from Point A to Point B, nothing passes the time like an impromptu air piano session. My favorite air piano song is actually on the 3rd album, The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner, and is called "Narcolepsy," but "Philosophy" comes in a close second, if only for the Gershwin solo.
...Messner has one song that pretty much sums up my friendship with Ian. In 1999, he was moving to Vancouver to go to film school and we wouldn't see each other for over a year. The last day before he left, we were driving home from UConn and "Don't Change Your Plans" came on. The song describes a guy who is on the West Coast and is nostalgic for home ("The leaves are falling back East/That's where I'm gonna stay") and someone he left behind. I'm not sure exactly why, but the lyrics seemed to be about Ian and I, about a friend leaving but also knowing that the leaving needs to be done. We cried like idiots, driving on Rte. 395.
After that, I was hooked. I've bought (or acquired) nearly every recording that he's ever released. Mr. Folds parted peacefully with Darren Jesse and Robert Sledge in 2000, most probably because he was tired of explaining the numerical joke in the band's name. Ben Folds Five only had 3 members. His first solo record, Rockin' The Suburbs, is a more mature record, if that means anything. Somewhere in there, he got married and had kids (twins!) so the songs are more about growing up as opposed to idolizing youth. The thing with his writing is, even though he is over ten years older than me, I always feel that he is singing about how it feels to be me. "Still Fighting It" is ostensibly written for his son, but the line that most resonates with me is "Everybody knows/It's hurts to grow up." I am 26, soon to be 27, and I am still fighting it.
Ben rocking out with his new bassist, Jared Reynolds.
Another more personal song of note on ...Suburbs is the last track, "The Luckiest." Mephistopholes and I have gone to see Ben in Central Park the last two years. The first time he played a double-bill with Aimee Mann and sang "The Luckiest" to us directly, or so it seemed. The song is an unsappy love song, Ben the songwriter is overly conscious of being cheesy and the result is a true representation of what it's like to be in love and want to grow old with someone. When I was getting married, I wasn't really nervous. Many grooms go through self-doubt or second-guessing but I knew exactly what I was doing and I was glad to commit to Mephistopholes forever. But I wanted to be nervous. I wanted to anticipate the day with a combination of fear and excitement. So I tried to learn how to sing, "The Luckiest." I'll repeat, I'm not a singer and it's very difficult for me to hold a note, but I rehearsed the song for weeks leading up to the big day. I just wanted it to be passable. When I took the mic at the reception and sang the first verse, there was not a dry eye in the house. People tell me it's because it was sweet, but I know it's really because the cracking voice hurt their ears so badly.
Anyway, after ...Suburbs, Ben came out with yet another grammatical joke with the live album, Ben Folds Live. It's just him with a piano playing his tunes solo. The most striking part is that there are so many fans who enjoy singing his music that he decides to capitalize on it. During "Not The Same," he splits the crowd into a 3 part harmony which sounds as good as a choir, and in "Army" he says, "This side's trumpets, this side's saxophones," and amazingly, that's what it sounds like. In the accompanying DVD, you can see him conduct the crowd like a maestro while standing on the piano.
This brings up a whole other quality to the Ben Folds catalog, his many side-projects and under-released recordings. From Naked Baby Photos, a collection of live and b-sides which came out just after Whatever..., to producing William Shatner's Has Been, Ben has quite a library built up after only 10 years. Shatner's album has some great guest stars like Aimee Mann and Henry Rollins and some intense songs about the tribulations of Captain Kirk, but the signature track is "Common People," a Pulp cover with a rocking chorus from Joe Jackson. More recently, Ben Folds collaborated on an EP with Ben Lee and Ben Kweller called The Bens. It's got four great songs but I am partial to the last track sung by Mr. Folds, "Bruised." My favorite nearly-unknown record is Fear of Pop, Vol. 1. It marks Ben's first collaboration with Shatner (other than during the priceline.com commercials) on "In Love," but I just love the overall sillyness and musical experimentation of tracks like "Root to This," which I think has vocals from his wife, Frally.
This past year, Ben did something a little different in the music world. He released 3 eps over the course of the year which were only available for purchase online. Each one (Speed Graphic, Sunny 16, and Super D) has five songs which are a mix of b-sides, live performances, covers or some new songs that he just felt like recording. He said it freed him from the music biz machinery of press and radio attention and let him just release the stuff that he's been working on lately. I love them. The cover of The Cure's "In Between Days" on Speed Graphic is uncomparable, "Rent a Cop" tells the story of a mildly pedophilic mall security guard, and "All You Can Eat" is Ben's self-described only political song about the Walmart-loving, bible-thumping heartland.
I always thought that his new record, Songs for Silverman, would be an amalgam of his EPs with some newer songs thrown in. In fact, the only song to make it was "Give Judy My Notice" and I frankly liked the version on Speed Graphic better. Overall, I'm not crazy about ...Silverman, there's too much slide-guitar and pedal steel for my taste, but it's got to be hard to keep blowing my mind with every recording. The single, "Landed," is a great song and I like the last track, "Prison Food." It's a rare jamming tune that feels more spontaneous than the rest of the album. Ben has kept up his rare release track record by simultaneously coming out with Songs for Goldfish, a mostly live album with one specifically hilarious track. Radio jingles for a Tokyo radio station, 76.1fm, "It's usually pretty good."
What brought all this on? How can I justify spending four hours on a blog post describing Ben Folds' entire musical catalog while getting paid to sit in my cubicle? I'll tell you.
I've spoken to Ben Folds twice now while getting autographs. On Tuesday, when I came in close proximity with him and observed his manner talking to his fans, his messy signature, I realized that he is very familiar to me. He is not a stranger, because I have been a witness to so much of his life through his music. But more than just his songs, I've been witnessing him, his change and growth as a songwriter as well as a man. And that means so much to me because I was changing and growing in similar ways. Or maybe he is a such a dorky-looking guy that I can see a part of myself in him. Could we be friends? Is this just a form of hero-worship? I don't know.
Feldman and Ben breaking up.
But when Feldman brought up his copy of Songs For Goldfish to be signed, Ben mentioned that the gem of a track on that disc was the Tokyo Radio Jingles. "That's something I totally forgot about. I just found it on my computer and thought it was too funny to keep to myself," he said. I'm paraphrasing but the point is, we both singled out those jingles as the track of note.
That means something, doesn't it?
Ben and I in love.
I was introduced to Ben Folds in a pretty normal way. I heard his song, "Battle of Who Could Care Less," on the radio in Ithaca, NY. I was working as a carpenter at the Hangar Theatre the summer after my freshman year of college, 1997. In the shop, we listened to all of our CDs quite a bit (the cd player was one of those 6 disc car changers so we would get bored of 6 albums at a time), but when the radio was on, it was tuned to the Ithaca College station, WICB 91.7fm. They played "Battle..." a lot that summer and I fell in love with the funny, anti-slacker lyrics. I thought Ben Folds was mocking my friends (I knew people who dressed like the Cure in high school) and that it was hilarious.
What does he sound like? The band was known for it's guitar-less lineup of piano, drums and bass. Ben's been called the American Elton John or the Billy Joel of our generation, but he's got too many roots in 80s hair metal for those comparisons. Most of the people who read this crazy thing prolly know already but for those of you who don't, the simplest way to describe Ben Folds is piano-driven pop rock.
On a whim at the indy record store in Ithaca, I acquired (that's a whole 'nother blog) Ben Folds Five's second record, Whatever and Ever Amen. It's a stellar album to this day. (Check out the newly released remastered version with some great bonus tracks.) The comical simplicity of tracks like "Song For The Dumped" and "Stephen's Last Night In Town" is deceptive. Ben's songwriting is unfettered with pretension, yet there is a lot of subtlety to it. It's hard to explain, but trust me, it rocks.
I introduced Whatever... to my blogmate, Ian, and he loved it so much that he got Ben Folds Five's self-titled disc, which came out in 1995. At first, I was skeptical of listening to another album. I loved Whatever... so much that I didn't want to spoil it with what the band did before. I needn't have worried, the record has so many gems on it that I actually like it better now. "Best Imitation of Myself" is pure genius, describing the posturing we go through in order to impress. And "Underground" is an anthem for all the kids who didn't like sports or pep rallies and found nose rings attractive (Even that's an over-simplification, because that song also satirizes those same people for their backwards pretension. See, I told you it was complicated.)
The music is also really fun to sing. I don't have a good voice, I'm pretty much tone-deaf, but I love to sing to music on the radio, especially in the car. Ben Fold's songs usually have lots of backing vocals (especially the 1st album) and a driving, almost Showtune-like, melody to the lyrics that you can't refuse to rock out to. And when you're going from Point A to Point B, nothing passes the time like an impromptu air piano session. My favorite air piano song is actually on the 3rd album, The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner, and is called "Narcolepsy," but "Philosophy" comes in a close second, if only for the Gershwin solo.
...Messner has one song that pretty much sums up my friendship with Ian. In 1999, he was moving to Vancouver to go to film school and we wouldn't see each other for over a year. The last day before he left, we were driving home from UConn and "Don't Change Your Plans" came on. The song describes a guy who is on the West Coast and is nostalgic for home ("The leaves are falling back East/That's where I'm gonna stay") and someone he left behind. I'm not sure exactly why, but the lyrics seemed to be about Ian and I, about a friend leaving but also knowing that the leaving needs to be done. We cried like idiots, driving on Rte. 395.
After that, I was hooked. I've bought (or acquired) nearly every recording that he's ever released. Mr. Folds parted peacefully with Darren Jesse and Robert Sledge in 2000, most probably because he was tired of explaining the numerical joke in the band's name. Ben Folds Five only had 3 members. His first solo record, Rockin' The Suburbs, is a more mature record, if that means anything. Somewhere in there, he got married and had kids (twins!) so the songs are more about growing up as opposed to idolizing youth. The thing with his writing is, even though he is over ten years older than me, I always feel that he is singing about how it feels to be me. "Still Fighting It" is ostensibly written for his son, but the line that most resonates with me is "Everybody knows/It's hurts to grow up." I am 26, soon to be 27, and I am still fighting it.
Ben rocking out with his new bassist, Jared Reynolds.
Another more personal song of note on ...Suburbs is the last track, "The Luckiest." Mephistopholes and I have gone to see Ben in Central Park the last two years. The first time he played a double-bill with Aimee Mann and sang "The Luckiest" to us directly, or so it seemed. The song is an unsappy love song, Ben the songwriter is overly conscious of being cheesy and the result is a true representation of what it's like to be in love and want to grow old with someone. When I was getting married, I wasn't really nervous. Many grooms go through self-doubt or second-guessing but I knew exactly what I was doing and I was glad to commit to Mephistopholes forever. But I wanted to be nervous. I wanted to anticipate the day with a combination of fear and excitement. So I tried to learn how to sing, "The Luckiest." I'll repeat, I'm not a singer and it's very difficult for me to hold a note, but I rehearsed the song for weeks leading up to the big day. I just wanted it to be passable. When I took the mic at the reception and sang the first verse, there was not a dry eye in the house. People tell me it's because it was sweet, but I know it's really because the cracking voice hurt their ears so badly.
Anyway, after ...Suburbs, Ben came out with yet another grammatical joke with the live album, Ben Folds Live. It's just him with a piano playing his tunes solo. The most striking part is that there are so many fans who enjoy singing his music that he decides to capitalize on it. During "Not The Same," he splits the crowd into a 3 part harmony which sounds as good as a choir, and in "Army" he says, "This side's trumpets, this side's saxophones," and amazingly, that's what it sounds like. In the accompanying DVD, you can see him conduct the crowd like a maestro while standing on the piano.
This brings up a whole other quality to the Ben Folds catalog, his many side-projects and under-released recordings. From Naked Baby Photos, a collection of live and b-sides which came out just after Whatever..., to producing William Shatner's Has Been, Ben has quite a library built up after only 10 years. Shatner's album has some great guest stars like Aimee Mann and Henry Rollins and some intense songs about the tribulations of Captain Kirk, but the signature track is "Common People," a Pulp cover with a rocking chorus from Joe Jackson. More recently, Ben Folds collaborated on an EP with Ben Lee and Ben Kweller called The Bens. It's got four great songs but I am partial to the last track sung by Mr. Folds, "Bruised." My favorite nearly-unknown record is Fear of Pop, Vol. 1. It marks Ben's first collaboration with Shatner (other than during the priceline.com commercials) on "In Love," but I just love the overall sillyness and musical experimentation of tracks like "Root to This," which I think has vocals from his wife, Frally.
This past year, Ben did something a little different in the music world. He released 3 eps over the course of the year which were only available for purchase online. Each one (Speed Graphic, Sunny 16, and Super D) has five songs which are a mix of b-sides, live performances, covers or some new songs that he just felt like recording. He said it freed him from the music biz machinery of press and radio attention and let him just release the stuff that he's been working on lately. I love them. The cover of The Cure's "In Between Days" on Speed Graphic is uncomparable, "Rent a Cop" tells the story of a mildly pedophilic mall security guard, and "All You Can Eat" is Ben's self-described only political song about the Walmart-loving, bible-thumping heartland.
I always thought that his new record, Songs for Silverman, would be an amalgam of his EPs with some newer songs thrown in. In fact, the only song to make it was "Give Judy My Notice" and I frankly liked the version on Speed Graphic better. Overall, I'm not crazy about ...Silverman, there's too much slide-guitar and pedal steel for my taste, but it's got to be hard to keep blowing my mind with every recording. The single, "Landed," is a great song and I like the last track, "Prison Food." It's a rare jamming tune that feels more spontaneous than the rest of the album. Ben has kept up his rare release track record by simultaneously coming out with Songs for Goldfish, a mostly live album with one specifically hilarious track. Radio jingles for a Tokyo radio station, 76.1fm, "It's usually pretty good."
What brought all this on? How can I justify spending four hours on a blog post describing Ben Folds' entire musical catalog while getting paid to sit in my cubicle? I'll tell you.
I've spoken to Ben Folds twice now while getting autographs. On Tuesday, when I came in close proximity with him and observed his manner talking to his fans, his messy signature, I realized that he is very familiar to me. He is not a stranger, because I have been a witness to so much of his life through his music. But more than just his songs, I've been witnessing him, his change and growth as a songwriter as well as a man. And that means so much to me because I was changing and growing in similar ways. Or maybe he is a such a dorky-looking guy that I can see a part of myself in him. Could we be friends? Is this just a form of hero-worship? I don't know.
Feldman and Ben breaking up.
But when Feldman brought up his copy of Songs For Goldfish to be signed, Ben mentioned that the gem of a track on that disc was the Tokyo Radio Jingles. "That's something I totally forgot about. I just found it on my computer and thought it was too funny to keep to myself," he said. I'm paraphrasing but the point is, we both singled out those jingles as the track of note.
That means something, doesn't it?
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Good Afternoon
For some reason, today, I feel good. Even though I have sweated through my undershirt, it's that hot out. Summer in New York. I'm really looking forward to it.
Basketball news: Ill Wind won their first game of the Spring Season last night. We have confirmed the sneaking suspicion that many teammates have vocalized: we only win when we blow them out. We won by about 19 points. Most of that had to do with a stellar 1st half where the team was able to score pretty much at will. Fast break points, half-court offense, we were able to do it all. I'd love to say that it was all from our talent, but the truth is that the other team wasn't very good. They were called the Masons (not to be confused with the secret society many claim to be descended from the Illuminati) and they were just plain bad. The Masons had two very tall doofuses (sic) who couldn't score from the block against shorter, weaker opponents, ie. me and Winston. They had only one guy with any real skill and he kept them marginally in the game with at least four 3-pointers. On a personal level, I think I had one of the best halfs since I started playing regularly again. There's no way to say for certain (our statistician was out sick last night) but I think I had about 7 field goals in the first half, one of which was a funky sky hook from the foul line over those two meatheads. But don't worry, I had a below-average 2nd half, scoring only twice and turning the ball over 2 or 3 times. I won't let it go to my head (in a bad way) but I do have to say that my confidence in shooting has gone up, and that makes me happy. My shot has been the last fundamental to return, after my long absence from the game.
I'll post about more stuff tomorrow, in case you felt slighted by my sports-related post.
Basketball news: Ill Wind won their first game of the Spring Season last night. We have confirmed the sneaking suspicion that many teammates have vocalized: we only win when we blow them out. We won by about 19 points. Most of that had to do with a stellar 1st half where the team was able to score pretty much at will. Fast break points, half-court offense, we were able to do it all. I'd love to say that it was all from our talent, but the truth is that the other team wasn't very good. They were called the Masons (not to be confused with the secret society many claim to be descended from the Illuminati) and they were just plain bad. The Masons had two very tall doofuses (sic) who couldn't score from the block against shorter, weaker opponents, ie. me and Winston. They had only one guy with any real skill and he kept them marginally in the game with at least four 3-pointers. On a personal level, I think I had one of the best halfs since I started playing regularly again. There's no way to say for certain (our statistician was out sick last night) but I think I had about 7 field goals in the first half, one of which was a funky sky hook from the foul line over those two meatheads. But don't worry, I had a below-average 2nd half, scoring only twice and turning the ball over 2 or 3 times. I won't let it go to my head (in a bad way) but I do have to say that my confidence in shooting has gone up, and that makes me happy. My shot has been the last fundamental to return, after my long absence from the game.
I'll post about more stuff tomorrow, in case you felt slighted by my sports-related post.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Is there nothing that google can't do?
I've been in love with Google Maps ever since I discovered it. Way better than mapquest, google maps is still in beta like their gmail (even though everyone has a gmail account now despite privacy concerns). But as if Google.maps wasn't good enough, they just added a satellite feature that let's you switch between maps and satellite pictures AT THE SAME ZOOMING RESOLUTION. Amazing.
Here's a satellite map of where I grew up: Bob Jingle's house.
I wonder when these satellite pictures were taken. Could I zoom in and blow them up enough to actually see my mom walking outside the house? Perhaps Google is using stock satellite images from 10-15 years ago. Then I could technically see myself as a child playing on the street with the neighborhood cronies. Can anyone with an internet connection see me whip crab apples at Eric Johnson or try to flirt with Ferie Harper?
Does google actually make it possible to go back in time?
Here's a satellite map of where I grew up: Bob Jingle's house.
I wonder when these satellite pictures were taken. Could I zoom in and blow them up enough to actually see my mom walking outside the house? Perhaps Google is using stock satellite images from 10-15 years ago. Then I could technically see myself as a child playing on the street with the neighborhood cronies. Can anyone with an internet connection see me whip crab apples at Eric Johnson or try to flirt with Ferie Harper?
Does google actually make it possible to go back in time?
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Ill Wind
In other news, we lost our second basketball game last night.
(IAN SPOILER: This post is about sports. Stop reading now.)
It was rough. The team we played had ten players, most of them asian but they had 2 big men. Ill Wind probably had the best game (up by 4 most of the game) we ever played but by the end of the second half, we were so tired that our defense lacked substantially. They kept feeding it in to the tall guys and we kept getting fouls called on us. The other team must have made 15 straight points from foul shots in the last five minutes. Which would have been fine if we were getting calls on the other end, but of course, we weren't. I was routinely getting pushed and slapped and hacked as I took shots but never got a call. Everybody was pissed, sure we could have played better at the end but it sucks when the refs change the game so dramatically.
Whatever, it made for a good bitching session over beers afterwards.
(IAN SPOILER: This post is about sports. Stop reading now.)
It was rough. The team we played had ten players, most of them asian but they had 2 big men. Ill Wind probably had the best game (up by 4 most of the game) we ever played but by the end of the second half, we were so tired that our defense lacked substantially. They kept feeding it in to the tall guys and we kept getting fouls called on us. The other team must have made 15 straight points from foul shots in the last five minutes. Which would have been fine if we were getting calls on the other end, but of course, we weren't. I was routinely getting pushed and slapped and hacked as I took shots but never got a call. Everybody was pissed, sure we could have played better at the end but it sucks when the refs change the game so dramatically.
Whatever, it made for a good bitching session over beers afterwards.
Rehoning my HTML skillz
So I added a links section to the page (look on the sidebar.) You'd think with all of the great features and ease of customization of Blogger.com that the process would be simple. But apparently, the only way to add content like that is to edit the html manually. I've written a few websites in my time so it wasn't a big deal for me. But it had been a long time and it was fun to get my chops wet again. That reminds me. I need to update Cofounder's website. I won't link it yet because it is frightfully out of date. When I do update, my loyal readers (all 3 of you) will be the first to know.
About the links, I think as a general rule I will only put sites on there that I've discussed in the blog. That way, you will know what they are and I won't have to write really long descriptions. The last post was gold mine for links but I added a few that I haven't mentioned before:
Instapundit. This guy was the first blog that I ever heard of. A co-worker of mine from many moons past, Tercio (one of my favorite names, means Third in Portuguese), would argue about allthings politick. He would visit this guy's site and then promptly start a discussion which would make the time at work go very fast. We are both artists and both liberals (He is an actor best known for a voiceover for Anarchy Online), and but he was right-leaning and i'm a little bit left-leaning. Debating fascism vs. communism, Lincoln vs. Kennedy, Punk rock vs. Alt. Rock made work fun, all because of Instapundit.
Wil Wheaton.net. This is THE Wil Wheaton. Wesley Crusher, the kid from Stand By Me, the guy you haven't heard about in 10 years. He's still an actor but he started this blog a while ago and he's gotten quite the following from it. Bastard even has a book out. He been posting a little bit too much about his cats dying lately but it's still a good read. I love being in Wesley's head.
About the links, I think as a general rule I will only put sites on there that I've discussed in the blog. That way, you will know what they are and I won't have to write really long descriptions. The last post was gold mine for links but I added a few that I haven't mentioned before:
Instapundit. This guy was the first blog that I ever heard of. A co-worker of mine from many moons past, Tercio (one of my favorite names, means Third in Portuguese), would argue about allthings politick. He would visit this guy's site and then promptly start a discussion which would make the time at work go very fast. We are both artists and both liberals (He is an actor best known for a voiceover for Anarchy Online), and but he was right-leaning and i'm a little bit left-leaning. Debating fascism vs. communism, Lincoln vs. Kennedy, Punk rock vs. Alt. Rock made work fun, all because of Instapundit.
Wil Wheaton.net. This is THE Wil Wheaton. Wesley Crusher, the kid from Stand By Me, the guy you haven't heard about in 10 years. He's still an actor but he started this blog a while ago and he's gotten quite the following from it. Bastard even has a book out. He been posting a little bit too much about his cats dying lately but it's still a good read. I love being in Wesley's head.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
The Best of the Web, Vol. 1
Because I have such a mind-taxing and extremely busy job, I don't get very much time to partake in the wonders of the Interweb very much. So when I do get the rare chance to spend all day browsing, I want the content of the websites I visit to be the best that my salary can pay me to slack by visiting. Here's a list of some of the best stuff that I've come across:
Savetoby.com. This site was actually on the news last night. Some guys are threatening to kill their pet rabbit, Toby, and eat him. That is, unless they receive $50,000 in their PayPal account by June 30th, 2005. The site is quite funny, complete with recipes whose directions include, "After quartering, brown Toby at medium-high heat." After being protested by PETA and most animal rights activists, the PayPal donation link is cut off but you can still buy merchandise with the SaveToby logo. I'm going to get a trucker hat.
Snopes.com. Subtitled "Urban Legend Reference Pages," this site has a plethora of interesting stories, anecdotes, email scams and urban legends all organized by category. Snopes is run by Barbara and David P. Mikkelson and the couple do a great job not only reporting the story but analyzing what the legend might mean in a sociological context. There is a convenient color-coding system of the veracity of each legend, not dissimilar to our nation's homeland security warnings. I've read maybe 50% of the site (there's a lot of content believe me) and some of my favorties include Was Fanta Created By Nazis? and the truth behind that ghost in Three Men and A Baby. Don't forget to check out the picture gallery, I only click on the ones that say "Disturbing Images Warning."
Webcomics rule. Probably the greatest thing to come out of the Interweb, in my humble opinion or IMHO, is the prevalance of Comic strips that are only available online. There is somewhat of a movement for cartoonists to break free of the Syndicate System (a cartoonist is hired by a syndicate which then has a contract with newspapers) which has controlled comics for years. One artist, Scott Kurtz of the wildly popular PvP, has tried to subvert this system by offering his comic free to newspapers, which pen and paper comics scoff at. (If you're interested here's a forum thread in which Kurtz and his counterparts debate said topic.) Anyway, webcomics are great because they are an inexpensive way for artists to directly publish their work in a way easily accessible to readers. The more popular comics have a way to fund themselves as well by offering merchandise through online storefronts like Cafepress and Thinkgeek.
My favorite webcomics (the ones i check at least once a week) in no particular order:
Savetoby.com. This site was actually on the news last night. Some guys are threatening to kill their pet rabbit, Toby, and eat him. That is, unless they receive $50,000 in their PayPal account by June 30th, 2005. The site is quite funny, complete with recipes whose directions include, "After quartering, brown Toby at medium-high heat." After being protested by PETA and most animal rights activists, the PayPal donation link is cut off but you can still buy merchandise with the SaveToby logo. I'm going to get a trucker hat.
Snopes.com. Subtitled "Urban Legend Reference Pages," this site has a plethora of interesting stories, anecdotes, email scams and urban legends all organized by category. Snopes is run by Barbara and David P. Mikkelson and the couple do a great job not only reporting the story but analyzing what the legend might mean in a sociological context. There is a convenient color-coding system of the veracity of each legend, not dissimilar to our nation's homeland security warnings. I've read maybe 50% of the site (there's a lot of content believe me) and some of my favorties include Was Fanta Created By Nazis? and the truth behind that ghost in Three Men and A Baby. Don't forget to check out the picture gallery, I only click on the ones that say "Disturbing Images Warning."
Webcomics rule. Probably the greatest thing to come out of the Interweb, in my humble opinion or IMHO, is the prevalance of Comic strips that are only available online. There is somewhat of a movement for cartoonists to break free of the Syndicate System (a cartoonist is hired by a syndicate which then has a contract with newspapers) which has controlled comics for years. One artist, Scott Kurtz of the wildly popular PvP, has tried to subvert this system by offering his comic free to newspapers, which pen and paper comics scoff at. (If you're interested here's a forum thread in which Kurtz and his counterparts debate said topic.) Anyway, webcomics are great because they are an inexpensive way for artists to directly publish their work in a way easily accessible to readers. The more popular comics have a way to fund themselves as well by offering merchandise through online storefronts like Cafepress and Thinkgeek.
My favorite webcomics (the ones i check at least once a week) in no particular order:
- Penny Arcade. Gabe and Tycho are my heroes. They can make comics about games, the gaming industry, or country line dancing and it will always be funny.
- The Order of the Stick. If you like dungeons and dragons, you'll like this comic. If you don't, you'll also like it. I have foreseen it. This one actually has an ongoing story so you might want to go back a few panels to see what's going on.
- Ctrl+Alt+Del. Also ostensibly about video games, this comic is more about the human condition. Or something.
- Mac Hall. This comic is apparently drawn by someone who plays WOW on Sargeras (my server) and who is in college. It definitely has the best art of any of the other selections.
- Poor Mark. A long, long time ago, this artist was my boss. He writes this low-tech comic as a way to investigate himself and I think it embodies everything great about the interweb and it's capacity for self-expression. And it's funny.
Something Awful. If you like absurdist and irreverant comedy, then this is a site you should consider reading 5 times a day. It has amazing features that often make me laugh out loud at work and then disguise the laugh as a coughing fit or sneeze so as to avoid notice. The topics range incredibly from ranking the best hot sauces to describing why blogs suck. And if you want to get in on the action, you can submit doctored photos every week for their Photoshop Phridays.
So that's my obligatory link blog. I've got more links stored up and I discover more all the time(when I'm not working my mandatory 47 minutes per day.) I don't know how much more I can put up without giving away too much of my perverse proclivities but I'll see what I can do.
Friday, April 08, 2005
The Effort of Posting
I play basketball in a league here in the city called the New York Urban Professional League, which basically means, White Person's Basketball League. Actually that's not true, there are a lot of divisions and the more skilled players do happen to be black AND professional. The league is fun though, we play at school gyms all over Manhattan. It's my only experience with inner-city schools and there are some gyms that I dread playing in because of the condition of the building. Somebody should do something about that. Each game has two referees which are paid by the league and they are mostly impartial. I don't like the makeup calls (calling a cheap foul because they called a cheap foul at the other end) but it's hard to complain to a 6' black dude who's pushing 250 and is surrounded by white dudes.
The division in which I play is called "Air Ball," which is more than apt. Last season, our division was called "Most Excellent" and conjured images of wheelchairs and donkey basketball. I like Air Ball more because at least my team, inexplicably dubbed Ill Wind, doesn't feel retarded. We just know that we suck.
Suck might be too harsh. Ill Wind not good, but we're not awful. Last season, we were able to finish at .500 and that only put us out of the playoffs by two spots (remember, "Most Excellent.") That was done mostly by sheer will, not because of any talent.
Ill Wind ostensibly has 8 members but we haven't heard from James, the 6'4" center who is unarguably the best player, in a while. He didn't make the last six games of last season and gave no reason for his absence. I can only surmise that he's found greener pastures and teammates who know how to pass to him. That leaves 7 semi-active players.
Jason, 5'10", is the captain of the team, the organizer. I'd classify him as a small forward, he doesn't really bang down in the paint and he can have a pretty sweet 15' jumper when he doesn't get blocked. His ball handling skills, while better than some, demand that he look down while dribbling so he doesn't always "See The Court."
Han is a tiny Asian guard and he is a viciously hyper perimeter defender. By vicious, I mean that he once had 3 hand-check fouls called on him in under a minute. Offensively, because of his height, he is limited to driving and shooting a floater in the key, which he hits with varying success.
Our point guard and best shooter is Robert, a short Italian guy. He has the best ball-handling out of all of us and can turn the tide of a game with a few well-placed 3s. The problem is when those threes are ill-placed. Basically, when Robert is having a good game, so do we. You can figure out the corollary to that one.
Winston is our center without James. He's about six feet and actually plays more like a slashing forward. He's got a good turn-around jumper and can rebound relatively well. Definitely our best scorer, I feel confident passing the ball to him every time. The drawback to that is the other team figures out kind of quick that Winston doesn't really have that many post-up moves and can be susceptible to a double-team. Things go downhill from there.
Mike is also rarely at games, mostly due to a back injury. He is a shooter, although I rarely see his shots go in. Probably the most athletic build of anybody on the team, Mike needs to drive more and shoot higher percentage shots to build up his Turbo.
Chris is almost indescribable without hurting his feelings. He means well and has a fairly large amount of hustle, but he's a little bit like that kid in Hoosiers who dribbles the ball off his foot in the championship game. Actually, I think that kid was better. Chris shoots the ball with two-hands and he looks like a seventh-grade girl in braces while dribbling the ball. Other than that, he's great. He's "Most Excellent."
And that leaves me, Bob Jingle. I'm the power forward, the workhorse. I don't shoot very well but I try to make up for it by banging the boards and scoring on easy cleanup plays. On defense, I foul a lot and on offense, I get fouled a lot. Which sucks because I don't hit very many foul shots so it doesn't really help the team that much. But I try.
An Ill Wind is blowing in. Cover your nose and mouth.
The spring season just started last night and we were semi-blownout. We played in perhaps the worst gym of the league, the boards of the court are all uneven and lifting up and it's dimly lit. It was Parent Conference Day at the High School of Graphics on 49th and 9th Avenue. After the game, it was strange how we were taking off our pants in the presence of children and their mothers. Not very reassuring for the parents, I would imagine, to have all these men disrobing where their child goes to school.
Anyway the game was a battle. If you didn't get the idea from my description of the team, we are quite small and not very muscular or fast. The other team, called JOBU, were a group of athletic monsters. Not all of them were tall but they were all big and fast. We were down by 4 at the half, but that was only because I figured out that if you dribbled into the key and tried to take a shot, they would foul you. I think I scored the last 7 points of the half by shooting free throws. The second half started with JOBU going on a run, they scored the first ten points and effectively ended the game. I still tried the trick of dribbling in and that worked for a little while. The best play of the game for me was when I got fouled driving to the hoop and the offender judiciously made his claim of inaccuracy known to the official.
"That's fucking bullshit," he said. He was rewarded with a technical foul.
I shot 4 free throws (2 for the T, and 2 for the shooting foul) and I made 3 of them. Actually, last night was my best foul shooting performance to date. I think I hit 8 or 9 out of 12, not bad for a guy who usually is comfortable with shooting %50 from the charity stripe (that's basketball lingo for the foul line).
But it was all for naught. The other team was just too good for out little group of fighters. We had no answers to their superior big men if they got the ball down low and once they learned they could easily block our shots instead of fouling, our offense was shut down. Even a few threes by Robert couldn't keep us in the game.
I hope this doesn't mean that "Air Ball" wasn't somehow an ironic reference to a much better division. We might do better dropping back down to "Most Excellent" and concentrate on our donkey-riding skills.
Over the course of the season, I will try to keep all you dear readers informed as to how Ill Wind is faring. I'm not promising game-by-game analysis but it might keep my basketball fix going now that March Madness is over. By the way, this March was the most profitable for me ever as I made $400 by winning two office pools. I will not, however, be placing any money on the success of Ill Wind. I have learned something from Pete Rose: Don't bet on shitty teams.
The division in which I play is called "Air Ball," which is more than apt. Last season, our division was called "Most Excellent" and conjured images of wheelchairs and donkey basketball. I like Air Ball more because at least my team, inexplicably dubbed Ill Wind, doesn't feel retarded. We just know that we suck.
Suck might be too harsh. Ill Wind not good, but we're not awful. Last season, we were able to finish at .500 and that only put us out of the playoffs by two spots (remember, "Most Excellent.") That was done mostly by sheer will, not because of any talent.
Ill Wind ostensibly has 8 members but we haven't heard from James, the 6'4" center who is unarguably the best player, in a while. He didn't make the last six games of last season and gave no reason for his absence. I can only surmise that he's found greener pastures and teammates who know how to pass to him. That leaves 7 semi-active players.
Jason, 5'10", is the captain of the team, the organizer. I'd classify him as a small forward, he doesn't really bang down in the paint and he can have a pretty sweet 15' jumper when he doesn't get blocked. His ball handling skills, while better than some, demand that he look down while dribbling so he doesn't always "See The Court."
Han is a tiny Asian guard and he is a viciously hyper perimeter defender. By vicious, I mean that he once had 3 hand-check fouls called on him in under a minute. Offensively, because of his height, he is limited to driving and shooting a floater in the key, which he hits with varying success.
Our point guard and best shooter is Robert, a short Italian guy. He has the best ball-handling out of all of us and can turn the tide of a game with a few well-placed 3s. The problem is when those threes are ill-placed. Basically, when Robert is having a good game, so do we. You can figure out the corollary to that one.
Winston is our center without James. He's about six feet and actually plays more like a slashing forward. He's got a good turn-around jumper and can rebound relatively well. Definitely our best scorer, I feel confident passing the ball to him every time. The drawback to that is the other team figures out kind of quick that Winston doesn't really have that many post-up moves and can be susceptible to a double-team. Things go downhill from there.
Mike is also rarely at games, mostly due to a back injury. He is a shooter, although I rarely see his shots go in. Probably the most athletic build of anybody on the team, Mike needs to drive more and shoot higher percentage shots to build up his Turbo.
Chris is almost indescribable without hurting his feelings. He means well and has a fairly large amount of hustle, but he's a little bit like that kid in Hoosiers who dribbles the ball off his foot in the championship game. Actually, I think that kid was better. Chris shoots the ball with two-hands and he looks like a seventh-grade girl in braces while dribbling the ball. Other than that, he's great. He's "Most Excellent."
And that leaves me, Bob Jingle. I'm the power forward, the workhorse. I don't shoot very well but I try to make up for it by banging the boards and scoring on easy cleanup plays. On defense, I foul a lot and on offense, I get fouled a lot. Which sucks because I don't hit very many foul shots so it doesn't really help the team that much. But I try.
An Ill Wind is blowing in. Cover your nose and mouth.
The spring season just started last night and we were semi-blownout. We played in perhaps the worst gym of the league, the boards of the court are all uneven and lifting up and it's dimly lit. It was Parent Conference Day at the High School of Graphics on 49th and 9th Avenue. After the game, it was strange how we were taking off our pants in the presence of children and their mothers. Not very reassuring for the parents, I would imagine, to have all these men disrobing where their child goes to school.
Anyway the game was a battle. If you didn't get the idea from my description of the team, we are quite small and not very muscular or fast. The other team, called JOBU, were a group of athletic monsters. Not all of them were tall but they were all big and fast. We were down by 4 at the half, but that was only because I figured out that if you dribbled into the key and tried to take a shot, they would foul you. I think I scored the last 7 points of the half by shooting free throws. The second half started with JOBU going on a run, they scored the first ten points and effectively ended the game. I still tried the trick of dribbling in and that worked for a little while. The best play of the game for me was when I got fouled driving to the hoop and the offender judiciously made his claim of inaccuracy known to the official.
"That's fucking bullshit," he said. He was rewarded with a technical foul.
I shot 4 free throws (2 for the T, and 2 for the shooting foul) and I made 3 of them. Actually, last night was my best foul shooting performance to date. I think I hit 8 or 9 out of 12, not bad for a guy who usually is comfortable with shooting %50 from the charity stripe (that's basketball lingo for the foul line).
But it was all for naught. The other team was just too good for out little group of fighters. We had no answers to their superior big men if they got the ball down low and once they learned they could easily block our shots instead of fouling, our offense was shut down. Even a few threes by Robert couldn't keep us in the game.
I hope this doesn't mean that "Air Ball" wasn't somehow an ironic reference to a much better division. We might do better dropping back down to "Most Excellent" and concentrate on our donkey-riding skills.
Over the course of the season, I will try to keep all you dear readers informed as to how Ill Wind is faring. I'm not promising game-by-game analysis but it might keep my basketball fix going now that March Madness is over. By the way, this March was the most profitable for me ever as I made $400 by winning two office pools. I will not, however, be placing any money on the success of Ill Wind. I have learned something from Pete Rose: Don't bet on shitty teams.
Friday, April 01, 2005
I like titles
Oh, blog! How I love this blog of mine.
So yeah, life goes on. I work, I go home and play WOW, I eat, I sleep, I work. It's all very cyclical.
I am old. This thought has popped into my mind wuite a few times in the last few weeks. I have grey hairs on my temples. I am married. My muscles hurt after playing basketball for 4 days afterwards as opposed to just one when I was a kid. My joints creak and crack.
But more than just the physical changes, I feel myself changing emotionally. My friends, who all used to be closer than family, are changing. Idiosyncracies which used to be laughable or shrugged off have now become more pronounced and more irritating. I don't want to go into detial there but suffice to say that friends I once had are not as close as they were. And my quirk is that I have become more and more sensitive to those idiosyncracies. I am not as confident as I was, possibly because I am 26 and haven't accomplished anything which I set out to.
The stupid thing is that I actually have accomplished things, even in the last year. I've written a full-length screenplay. I produced a short film. I have performed Stand-up comedy in major venues in NY. I write this awesome blog. What else would I like? Fame, Fortune? Perhaps I should stop damning myself for what I haven't done and try to concentrate on what I have.
Perhaps I should start taking anti-depressants. Everybody's doing it.
So yeah, life goes on. I work, I go home and play WOW, I eat, I sleep, I work. It's all very cyclical.
I am old. This thought has popped into my mind wuite a few times in the last few weeks. I have grey hairs on my temples. I am married. My muscles hurt after playing basketball for 4 days afterwards as opposed to just one when I was a kid. My joints creak and crack.
But more than just the physical changes, I feel myself changing emotionally. My friends, who all used to be closer than family, are changing. Idiosyncracies which used to be laughable or shrugged off have now become more pronounced and more irritating. I don't want to go into detial there but suffice to say that friends I once had are not as close as they were. And my quirk is that I have become more and more sensitive to those idiosyncracies. I am not as confident as I was, possibly because I am 26 and haven't accomplished anything which I set out to.
The stupid thing is that I actually have accomplished things, even in the last year. I've written a full-length screenplay. I produced a short film. I have performed Stand-up comedy in major venues in NY. I write this awesome blog. What else would I like? Fame, Fortune? Perhaps I should stop damning myself for what I haven't done and try to concentrate on what I have.
Perhaps I should start taking anti-depressants. Everybody's doing it.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
The Lord of Regret
I got the extended edition of The Return of the King a couple of months ago. Is there any other version? As Peter Jackson says in the commentary, these extended editions will be known as the definitive version of the film. It's uncanny how much an extra half hour can enhance the story and authenticity of the movies. It's a shame that Jackson was so compelled by Hollywood to cut these films down in the theatrical cuts but I think he did so knowing that the DVD editions were coming so soon after. A lot of time was spent on the DVD, continuing work on the movies after the movie was released. Jackson states that one shot was actually completed after the film won the Oscar for best picture, probably the only time such a thing has occurred.
Enough about him, let's get back to me. The other day, I decided to go back and start watching the Fellowship of the Ring. From the opening prelude sequence, I was surprised at how consistent the look and feel of the first movie compares with the third. These were truly one very long film, split into 3 dramatic parts. It's a fantastic achievement. God, I really can't stop blathering about it. In short, I think the films are fucking amazing.
I grew up reading the LOTR. One of my very first memories is watching the Rankin/Bass animated Hobbit and my brother telling me how different it was from the book. So I read it. I've reread the Hobbit and LOTR countless times, they are a part of me. They shaped so much of who I am, my dreams to be a writer, my fascination with fantasy roleplaying games.
Watching the FOTR two days ago, I was struck with the beauty of it all. The sequence in the Shire was so right, so in line with Tolkien both thematically and visually. Sitting on the couch watching it, I broke down in tears. I don't know what happened. I was overwhelmed with admiration and joy. I was also high but I don't think that had that much to do with it. I'd gotten teary-eyed before watching these movies but this time I just wept. I wept that something so perfect was in the world.
Back to the title of the blog. I was in my senior year of college when principal photography began on LOTR in 1999. I was 21. I remember being really excited that a live-action movie was being made and I followed the news of the shoot fairly regularly. College was going well, I was dating a wonderful girl named Mephistopheles. I was writing plays and producing my first full-length one called Online. But I have this mountain of regret.
I should have gone to New Zealand. I had next to no experience in film, but this was a dream project. I should have dropped everything, gotten on a plane and walked up to the office and told them I wanted to help make a movie. Do anything that was needed. Make coffee, drive cars or trucks, fucking shine Peter Jackson's shoes, anything. LOTR was a perfect meld of so many of my aspirations, I always wanted to make something, to write, to make a movie, to be creative, and the number one thing that inspired all of that was Tolkien. Why didn't I drop everything and go to make the definitive film version of a story that I had loved for so long?
I can tell you why. I was in school, with less than a year left. I had a car. A family. An awesome girlfriend who would eventually be my wife. I tell myself, if there was none of that, I would have gone. Or would I have? Would I have made that leap into the unknown?
I don't know. All I do know is that as I sit on my couch in the year 2005 and watch the work of Peter Jackson, I am so full of regret that I had nothing to do with the LOTR. It is arguably the greatest film in the history of cinema based on my favorite story of all time...
and my only contribution to it is that I cry because it is so beautiful.
Enough about him, let's get back to me. The other day, I decided to go back and start watching the Fellowship of the Ring. From the opening prelude sequence, I was surprised at how consistent the look and feel of the first movie compares with the third. These were truly one very long film, split into 3 dramatic parts. It's a fantastic achievement. God, I really can't stop blathering about it. In short, I think the films are fucking amazing.
I grew up reading the LOTR. One of my very first memories is watching the Rankin/Bass animated Hobbit and my brother telling me how different it was from the book. So I read it. I've reread the Hobbit and LOTR countless times, they are a part of me. They shaped so much of who I am, my dreams to be a writer, my fascination with fantasy roleplaying games.
Watching the FOTR two days ago, I was struck with the beauty of it all. The sequence in the Shire was so right, so in line with Tolkien both thematically and visually. Sitting on the couch watching it, I broke down in tears. I don't know what happened. I was overwhelmed with admiration and joy. I was also high but I don't think that had that much to do with it. I'd gotten teary-eyed before watching these movies but this time I just wept. I wept that something so perfect was in the world.
Back to the title of the blog. I was in my senior year of college when principal photography began on LOTR in 1999. I was 21. I remember being really excited that a live-action movie was being made and I followed the news of the shoot fairly regularly. College was going well, I was dating a wonderful girl named Mephistopheles. I was writing plays and producing my first full-length one called Online. But I have this mountain of regret.
I should have gone to New Zealand. I had next to no experience in film, but this was a dream project. I should have dropped everything, gotten on a plane and walked up to the office and told them I wanted to help make a movie. Do anything that was needed. Make coffee, drive cars or trucks, fucking shine Peter Jackson's shoes, anything. LOTR was a perfect meld of so many of my aspirations, I always wanted to make something, to write, to make a movie, to be creative, and the number one thing that inspired all of that was Tolkien. Why didn't I drop everything and go to make the definitive film version of a story that I had loved for so long?
I can tell you why. I was in school, with less than a year left. I had a car. A family. An awesome girlfriend who would eventually be my wife. I tell myself, if there was none of that, I would have gone. Or would I have? Would I have made that leap into the unknown?
I don't know. All I do know is that as I sit on my couch in the year 2005 and watch the work of Peter Jackson, I am so full of regret that I had nothing to do with the LOTR. It is arguably the greatest film in the history of cinema based on my favorite story of all time...
and my only contribution to it is that I cry because it is so beautiful.
Monday, March 21, 2005
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Hidely, Hodely, Neighbor
I live in a very loud neighborhood. Or as my wife, Mephistopheles, would say, "All this place has is rich little brats who never go to sleep." To be honest, there is often loud music playing in one of the adjacent apartments. And because we live on a block of houses built right next to each other, there are four adjacent apartments, one up, one down, one on either side. These buildings are old, there is not very much sound-proofing. So anytime any of our neighbors is playing music, we can hear the bass-a-pumping, sometimes to the point of vibrating floors and walls.
Now this bothers me, especially when I'm tired and just want to rest my eyes for a couple of minutes. But it doesn't consume my ever-waking thought. That is how it affects Mephistopheles. She will bitch and complain and stomp her feet for hours at a time if there is any hint of bass in our apartment. We will be in the midst of a conversation and she will stop talking to, turn off the TV, and say, "SHHHH!" Just so she can hear the bass which I am trying to ignore. Then she will scream, "I hate living here!" and go off on another tirade about how she works and is tired and she just wants to go to sleep. Even though she's watching TV and talking to me. It gets to the point where if I come home and I hear music, I am not bothered. I am dreading my wife's reaction more than the bass pumping.
Last night, there was a party at our next door neighbors. Their window was open so as I walked up my stoop I could see the twenty-somethings all gathered around some turn-table thing and mock rapping. It was really loud. I didn't want to walk into my apartment, for I knew Mephistopheles would be inside, cleaning the gun.
Before I was even inside the door, I hear, "Just so you know, the neighbors are having a party and Jeremy (our downstairs neighbor) is playing music too." As if I wouldn't notice. No "Hello, honey, how was work?" No "good to see my loving husband." And as predicted, the loudness of the music and the insensitivity of everyone around us dominated the conversation, no matter how many times I asked what the secret ingredient was on Iron Chef.
What's the point of all this? I don't know. I just know that people playing music doesn't bother me that much. I can ignore it. Mephistopheles does not have that ability, or if she does, she chooses not to use it. I for one believe it is the latter because even though we did call 311 and the cops did come to tell the partiers to be little quieter, you could still hear music when she went to bed. And she went right to sleep.
Now this bothers me, especially when I'm tired and just want to rest my eyes for a couple of minutes. But it doesn't consume my ever-waking thought. That is how it affects Mephistopheles. She will bitch and complain and stomp her feet for hours at a time if there is any hint of bass in our apartment. We will be in the midst of a conversation and she will stop talking to, turn off the TV, and say, "SHHHH!" Just so she can hear the bass which I am trying to ignore. Then she will scream, "I hate living here!" and go off on another tirade about how she works and is tired and she just wants to go to sleep. Even though she's watching TV and talking to me. It gets to the point where if I come home and I hear music, I am not bothered. I am dreading my wife's reaction more than the bass pumping.
Last night, there was a party at our next door neighbors. Their window was open so as I walked up my stoop I could see the twenty-somethings all gathered around some turn-table thing and mock rapping. It was really loud. I didn't want to walk into my apartment, for I knew Mephistopheles would be inside, cleaning the gun.
Before I was even inside the door, I hear, "Just so you know, the neighbors are having a party and Jeremy (our downstairs neighbor) is playing music too." As if I wouldn't notice. No "Hello, honey, how was work?" No "good to see my loving husband." And as predicted, the loudness of the music and the insensitivity of everyone around us dominated the conversation, no matter how many times I asked what the secret ingredient was on Iron Chef.
What's the point of all this? I don't know. I just know that people playing music doesn't bother me that much. I can ignore it. Mephistopheles does not have that ability, or if she does, she chooses not to use it. I for one believe it is the latter because even though we did call 311 and the cops did come to tell the partiers to be little quieter, you could still hear music when she went to bed. And she went right to sleep.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Wow, that's a long time between posts, Bob
You know, you're right. Truth be told, I was a little discouraged to post creative ideas by my friend, Ian. He recently started his own blog, you should check it out here.
He and I have been playing WOW since it came out this November. Hell, we were even playing in both stress tests and the open beta. I would have been playing for over a year if I had made it into the Closed Beta. The game is extremely fun. I play a dwarf paladin named Brantley on the Sargeras US server. If you play, and for some weird reason you're actually on my server, send me a tell and tell me how great you think this blog is. :)
Interesting thing about MMORPGs is that people from every stratum of society seem to play them. The numbers of women vs. men, while not equal, is still closer to 50-50 than in any other type of game. Older video game players also tend to play MMORPGs more than your typical FPS. How do I know this?
There is a website called the Daedalus Project. Basically, it's run by a a guy who was studying to be a research pyschologist in college and was introduced to Everquest by a study he was assigned to write. He got hooked on playing the game as well as interested in what kinds of people were the elves and dwarves around him. He decided to take qualitative and quantitative surveys of MMORPGamers and track his results online. He writes papers and brief articles on the subject, often using testimonials from actual gamers to illustrate a trend that the data shows. It's all really exhaustive and quite professional looking after a graphical redesign of his website. For a quick look at the data he's collected check out the Daedalus Gateway or, if you play MMORPGs, take the newest survey.
He and I have been playing WOW since it came out this November. Hell, we were even playing in both stress tests and the open beta. I would have been playing for over a year if I had made it into the Closed Beta. The game is extremely fun. I play a dwarf paladin named Brantley on the Sargeras US server. If you play, and for some weird reason you're actually on my server, send me a tell and tell me how great you think this blog is. :)
Interesting thing about MMORPGs is that people from every stratum of society seem to play them. The numbers of women vs. men, while not equal, is still closer to 50-50 than in any other type of game. Older video game players also tend to play MMORPGs more than your typical FPS. How do I know this?
There is a website called the Daedalus Project. Basically, it's run by a a guy who was studying to be a research pyschologist in college and was introduced to Everquest by a study he was assigned to write. He got hooked on playing the game as well as interested in what kinds of people were the elves and dwarves around him. He decided to take qualitative and quantitative surveys of MMORPGamers and track his results online. He writes papers and brief articles on the subject, often using testimonials from actual gamers to illustrate a trend that the data shows. It's all really exhaustive and quite professional looking after a graphical redesign of his website. For a quick look at the data he's collected check out the Daedalus Gateway or, if you play MMORPGs, take the newest survey.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
The title
So, all I needed was for one person to comment on my blog and I lost all drive. Actually, I don't think it's that big of a deal if someone were to steal my ideas. What is the chance that A) anyone is actually reading this spiel and that B) they themselves are writers of fantasy fiction and that C) they have so little scruples as to steal someone else's idea and pawn it off as their own. If you look at that way, there's nearly no chance that Ian's fears will come true.
So fine, I've convinced myself. I will begin to tell you about my ideas for a fantasy story... Tomorrow.
So fine, I've convinced myself. I will begin to tell you about my ideas for a fantasy story... Tomorrow.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
What? Two posts in 2 days?
Yeah. That's right. I'm here.
I have been thinking about this idea for a book for a long time. Actually, it's a trilogy. Actually, it's a fantasy trilogy a la LOTR. The idea hit me while I was taking a class on George Orwell and his thoughts on the Spanish Civil War. He claimed that that conflict was essentially a war fought as a preview for World War 2, totalitarianism and fascism vs. democracy. Each ideology picked a faction and supported it, all under the guise of aiding a nation under civil duress. Pundits and artists (George Orwell among them) could see that this was happening but the general populace didn't always understand the political undercurrents.
This intrigued me because it was a war strictly being fought for political reasons, the combatants of which didn't know or understand. And while this is true of many wars, it seemed especially poignant as the world became more modern and education more prevalent. It seemed more interesting that citizens and the world remained somewhat ignorant of the deeper ideological differences involved in conflicts and wars.
I have always been a fan of the fantasy setting. I learned to love reading through travelling to Narnia, Middle Earth, and Willy Wonka's factory. As an adolescent, I admired the work of Tad Williams, Robert Jordan and George R. R. Martin. Since I decided to pursue writing, I've dreamed of writing the next great fantasy novel.
So this has been my idea. To take the classic fantasy elements, like elves dwarves and humans living together in general peace, and put modern government ideologies behind them. The elves become a pure democracy like Greek city-states; the dwarves are a form communism/capitalism (I know that doesn't make sense but trust me); and humans are a representative democracy like the United States. The antagonist in the story is a human determined to reinstate an ancient empire and rule with totalitarian authority.
At least that was the beginning, the idea has grown and changed very much over the last 6 years or so. To be honest, I have stagnated lately on shaping and growing this idea so I plan to use this blog to map out my story with more detail.
I'll be doing this mostly between 4 and 6 when Alfredo isn't here so he can't bitch. God, I love being paid to be creative.
I have been thinking about this idea for a book for a long time. Actually, it's a trilogy. Actually, it's a fantasy trilogy a la LOTR. The idea hit me while I was taking a class on George Orwell and his thoughts on the Spanish Civil War. He claimed that that conflict was essentially a war fought as a preview for World War 2, totalitarianism and fascism vs. democracy. Each ideology picked a faction and supported it, all under the guise of aiding a nation under civil duress. Pundits and artists (George Orwell among them) could see that this was happening but the general populace didn't always understand the political undercurrents.
This intrigued me because it was a war strictly being fought for political reasons, the combatants of which didn't know or understand. And while this is true of many wars, it seemed especially poignant as the world became more modern and education more prevalent. It seemed more interesting that citizens and the world remained somewhat ignorant of the deeper ideological differences involved in conflicts and wars.
I have always been a fan of the fantasy setting. I learned to love reading through travelling to Narnia, Middle Earth, and Willy Wonka's factory. As an adolescent, I admired the work of Tad Williams, Robert Jordan and George R. R. Martin. Since I decided to pursue writing, I've dreamed of writing the next great fantasy novel.
So this has been my idea. To take the classic fantasy elements, like elves dwarves and humans living together in general peace, and put modern government ideologies behind them. The elves become a pure democracy like Greek city-states; the dwarves are a form communism/capitalism (I know that doesn't make sense but trust me); and humans are a representative democracy like the United States. The antagonist in the story is a human determined to reinstate an ancient empire and rule with totalitarian authority.
At least that was the beginning, the idea has grown and changed very much over the last 6 years or so. To be honest, I have stagnated lately on shaping and growing this idea so I plan to use this blog to map out my story with more detail.
I'll be doing this mostly between 4 and 6 when Alfredo isn't here so he can't bitch. God, I love being paid to be creative.
Monday, February 07, 2005
I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya...
This is my first entry while a full-time employee of Bear Stearns. That's right, I am no longer a meaningless temporary peon ... I am now a meaningless full-time peon. I make copies (today I made double-sided ones, joy), I type things, and I continue to fool around on the net. The first week was kind of lame, my immediate supervisor was giving me shit. He is Alfredo, a portly puerto-rican ex-navy father of two. and I don't think he likes explaining things to me. I ask questions and instead of answering, he'll say things like, "You don't need to know that." Must be his military training.
Today, I got in to work a little late to the tune of most of the work I did yesterday had to be thrown out because it had the wrong date. And a co-worker told me that my immediate supervisor, i.e. Alfredo, was not happy with my work after the first week. Let me repeat something from a previous post. I DO THE WORK OF A MONKEY. This is not hard people. How can I do anything wrong? Am I really an idiot or is this like middle school which was so easy that I failed?
Today, I got in to work a little late to the tune of most of the work I did yesterday had to be thrown out because it had the wrong date. And a co-worker told me that my immediate supervisor, i.e. Alfredo, was not happy with my work after the first week. Let me repeat something from a previous post. I DO THE WORK OF A MONKEY. This is not hard people. How can I do anything wrong? Am I really an idiot or is this like middle school which was so easy that I failed?
Monday, January 10, 2005
Belated New Year's Resolutions
Here are my Resolutions for 2005:
Continue to post with amazing regularity on Zuul.
Have more sex.
Smoke more cigarettes.
Use public transportation.
Write my fantasy novel.
Play more video games.
Love my wife/life.
Drink a beer a day.
Masterbate 3 times/day.
Exercise.
That should keep me busy for at least a week.
Continue to post with amazing regularity on Zuul.
Have more sex.
Smoke more cigarettes.
Use public transportation.
Write my fantasy novel.
Play more video games.
Love my wife/life.
Drink a beer a day.
Masterbate 3 times/day.
Exercise.
That should keep me busy for at least a week.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
The rareness of posting
I should be doing more of it.
But my monkey-dancing job is actually pretty time-consuming. It's hard for me to find a minute to scramble down random thoughts. But here is that minute:
But my monkey-dancing job is actually pretty time-consuming. It's hard for me to find a minute to scramble down random thoughts. But here is that minute:
- It would suck to own a Sri-Lankan insurance company right now.
- After a long period of the opposite, I've discovered that I like my family more than my wife's family. Does that make me a bad person?
- Christmas is the time for giving. Or so I've been told.
- My tree was 2.5 feet tall this year and somehow had more needles come off of it than a dancing herion addict. (a bit of a stretch on that one)
- Has Been, William Shatner's CD is a masterpiece. Mephistopholes got it for me for the holiday and I can't stop listenting to it. Ben Folds is a genius producer and he has crafted a great record with Bill (Cpt. Kirk) Shatner. Get it right now.
- I prefer unordered lists to ordered ones.
Okay, I'm getting looks from my supervisor. She is a four foot tall woman named Ying and she will not love me long time unless I stop typing right now.
I'm out.
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
A perfect oppurtunity
Hey there, I'm applying to a position at the company that makes WOW, the almighty Blizzard Entertainment. even if you are not a gamer, you'd have to spend nine tenths of your life under a rock to not have heard of Warcraft, Diablo or Starcraft, all of which they've made in the last ten years or so.
Anyway, the position I'm applying for is to be a forum moderator on their boards. Basically, I'd get to read their forums all day (which I did at work anyway until the Goddamn Bear Stearns Squid started denying access to YESTERDAY) and posting any information from the developers or closing any offensive threads, etc. JOB = PERFECT.
Only problem is it's in California. I'm in NY. 3000 miles will not deter me from applying!
For your reading enjoyment, here is my cover letter:
To whom it may concern:
I have been an avid PC gamer since I can remember. It started on my older brother’s Vic 20 and continued through Commodore 64s, 128s, Amigas and now my home-built PC. World of Warcraft has been a passion for me since I heard about its development. Throughout 2004, I visited the Beta Board daily (once every ten minutes in some cases, lol) and read about players’ and developers’ thoughts on the game. I know the hard work that goes into forum moderation and the necessity of having a tough skin. Some players can get a little personal but I know that it means that they love the game and are concerned about its implementation. I can only applaud the current and past moderators for dealing with the community. I sometimes put myself in their shoes and imagine what I would post to a particular thread to diffuse a flame war. It’s often not far from what Tyren or Caydiem actually post.
I have an extremely varied work history which has given me many experiences that I think will make me an excellent candidate for the Online Community Representative. I come from a creative background, one that will fit in well with Blizzard’s character. Working as a producer and a stage manager has given me strong communication skills. My sense of humor allows me to deal with complaints and grievances with little or no ill will. I was the recipient of an Edward Albee Foundation Residency this September for my work as a playwright so there is no question of my command of the written word.
I would love the opportunity to meet with you to discuss my potential as an Online Community Representative. I participated in the 1st and 2nd Stress tests, the open beta and now have 3 characters above level 10 in retail with my main at about 26. I know you are only accepting applicants from the Orange County area but I am relocating to Southern California in 2005. I am available for an interview at any time, please don’t hesitate to call to set up an appointment.
Regards,
Greg Tito
Think I'll get the job? What? Shut up, nobody asked you!
Anyway, the position I'm applying for is to be a forum moderator on their boards. Basically, I'd get to read their forums all day (which I did at work anyway until the Goddamn Bear Stearns Squid started denying access to YESTERDAY) and posting any information from the developers or closing any offensive threads, etc. JOB = PERFECT.
Only problem is it's in California. I'm in NY. 3000 miles will not deter me from applying!
For your reading enjoyment, here is my cover letter:
To whom it may concern:
I have been an avid PC gamer since I can remember. It started on my older brother’s Vic 20 and continued through Commodore 64s, 128s, Amigas and now my home-built PC. World of Warcraft has been a passion for me since I heard about its development. Throughout 2004, I visited the Beta Board daily (once every ten minutes in some cases, lol) and read about players’ and developers’ thoughts on the game. I know the hard work that goes into forum moderation and the necessity of having a tough skin. Some players can get a little personal but I know that it means that they love the game and are concerned about its implementation. I can only applaud the current and past moderators for dealing with the community. I sometimes put myself in their shoes and imagine what I would post to a particular thread to diffuse a flame war. It’s often not far from what Tyren or Caydiem actually post.
I have an extremely varied work history which has given me many experiences that I think will make me an excellent candidate for the Online Community Representative. I come from a creative background, one that will fit in well with Blizzard’s character. Working as a producer and a stage manager has given me strong communication skills. My sense of humor allows me to deal with complaints and grievances with little or no ill will. I was the recipient of an Edward Albee Foundation Residency this September for my work as a playwright so there is no question of my command of the written word.
I would love the opportunity to meet with you to discuss my potential as an Online Community Representative. I participated in the 1st and 2nd Stress tests, the open beta and now have 3 characters above level 10 in retail with my main at about 26. I know you are only accepting applicants from the Orange County area but I am relocating to Southern California in 2005. I am available for an interview at any time, please don’t hesitate to call to set up an appointment.
Regards,
Greg Tito
Think I'll get the job? What? Shut up, nobody asked you!
Friday, December 10, 2004
I am a Monkey
Dance, monkeyboy, Dance!
So I quit the position i hade last month. That was crazy, that was. I had to deal with car service invoices for a large investment banking firm. The ones that people denied because the black people (the drivers) are all crooks and cheats. I can't deal with racism on a daily basis. Once or twice a week is cool, but every day i can't handle.
Now, I do whatever they tell me. I need 5 copies of this, Greg. Staple these in such a way. Please touch my genitals, when you get a chance. It's actually pretty cool. I get to do mindless work while i think about the things that really matter in life. Like World of Warcraft.
I made some sweet armor last night. I'm a blacksmith.
So I quit the position i hade last month. That was crazy, that was. I had to deal with car service invoices for a large investment banking firm. The ones that people denied because the black people (the drivers) are all crooks and cheats. I can't deal with racism on a daily basis. Once or twice a week is cool, but every day i can't handle.
Now, I do whatever they tell me. I need 5 copies of this, Greg. Staple these in such a way. Please touch my genitals, when you get a chance. It's actually pretty cool. I get to do mindless work while i think about the things that really matter in life. Like World of Warcraft.
I made some sweet armor last night. I'm a blacksmith.
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