The Nintento Wii: Just Because Something Has Potential Doesn’t Mean it Won’t Suck

My apologies for the short hiatus, folks; things have been busy in our mountaintop lair of late. Utensil uprisings to plan, and all that.

Now, far be it from me, a lowly blogger, to lay the proverbial smack down on a poor unsuspecting gaming console – and one I don’t even own, to boot. But really, what am I going to do, hurt its feelings? I HOPE I make it cry, because quite frankly – and I’m just going to put this out there right now – I think the Nintendo Wii should be ashamed of itself. Sent to bed without dessert, if you will. (Though there’s many a fanboy ready and willing to stroke it to sleep at night, so I don’t feel I’m being too harsh.)

So as not to kick a dead horse too much, I’m going to try to refrain from making wee jokes in this article. It’ll be difficult for me, but if you use your imagination half as much as I do I’m sure you’ll catch them anyway.

I remember the leadup to the Wii’s release. So to speak. (That didn’t count, okay.) All I knew of this mystical new console was that it was white and shiny and, according to their media campaign, would change the face of the gaming industry forever.

I remember going to a friend’s house just after its launch and getting my hands on one of those sleek remotes for the first time. My friend told wide-eyed stories of a gaming revolution to his dubious technologically-challenged father, about how the Wii was going to change the way gaming is perceived; about a transition from the archetype of dungeon-dwelling geeks with no social skills holding basement weddings to cardboard cutouts of Lara Croft, to the heroic, outgoing gamers of the future! Gamers who would get their exercise for the day in a game of Super Mario Galaxy and marry sexy athletic girls in tiny shorts playing Wii Tennis! Yes, my friends, the Wii would change our world – no longer would gamers have to conceal their nerdiness; no longer would they be ashamed to admit who they really are. This was the time for us gamers to merge into mainstream society – a time when we would be accepted among our peers as equals, nay, the cool, trendy technological elite!

Or something like that.

But hey, even if you didn’t buy into the hype surrounding the product, the point is that when the Wii came out it had POTENTIAL. People expected great things, radical things, something which would, if not change the world, at least change the way we enjoyed our gaming experience. It was wielding a real “sword” instead of pressing X a bunch of times. It was using real aim instead of nudging a little joystick to swivel the camera on-screen. Like I said, it was Potential, with a capital P.

I mean, check this guy out:

Ignore his deadpan geekiness for a moment and admit it – that is fucking cool.

Unfortunately, as with every awesome thing ever, it backfired. Our dreams of playing Goldeneye in 3D (aww yeaah) have been crushed. Instead of giving birth to a new, hardcore awesome generation of technologically advanced games and mainstream gamers, the Wii gave birth to a monster. It gave birth to… the Wii-tard.

The future of gaming.

But see, it’s not really the fault of the system itself. The Wii still retains every ounce of Potential that it once did. The fault, I believe, lies with the game developers themselves.

The games. Are TERRIBLE.

The Wii. Makes people fucking retarded.

Instead of appealing to, you know, gamers, the game developers for the Wii inexplicably decided to design games for insipid rave-going tossers who get so fucking stoned in a pathetic effort to look cool they don’t even notice how much the games suck. In an effort to make gaming a social activity and cater to a younger, more retarded age group, they’ve dumbed it down to the point of sheer unadulterated stupidity. It’s the culture jump from the original Star Wars trilogy to Episode I all over again. For the love of god, when will it stop?

I started writing this article after going to a party where everyone got completely wasted and played a game which was basically about manic bunnies and their craaazy antics. There is nothing in the English language which can possibly convey to you how much I despise the idea of a world in which waving your hand around in the air to get a costumed rabbit with ADD to talk as much as possible on a cellphone in a cinema before the usher comes in to bust you is considered entertainment.

Failing that, there are plenty of other wacky adventures the Wii can set you upon! You can even build a city out of cake! They must be compensating for that getting-no-dessert thing.

For Christ’s sake.

Hell on Earth: Japanese 101

So a few days ago, I was sitting in class, minding my own business, when one of my classmates turned to the one beside her and suddenly asked:

“So, I was thinking about it this weekend and…like, I can’t decide. Who do you like better? Sailor Mars or Sailor Pluto?”

The other student replied, “Oh, Sailor Pluto for sure. She’s so cool.”

Needless to say, I killed myself on the spot. But before doing that, I wrote this list.

The Five People You Will Meet In An Introductory Japanese Class

1.) The Anime Freak – Female: Depending on what publication, your dictionary may have a picture of them next to the definition for “Retina-Melting Horror”:

You may remember this person from high school. Think about them then, and then multiply the annoying by about 10. At best, this person will be quietly looking into their binder, attempting to emulate what they believe to be Japanese modesty and serenity. At worst, they will be loud, obnoxious, talk in a high pitched voice, enjoy wearing cat ears around campus, and they will be without a doubt completely and utterly in love with Japan. In the most disgusting way possible. And by most disgusting way possible, I really mean, their very existence causes Japan to sink a little further into the Ocean in horror. Kawaiidesune? ^__^

2.) The Anime Freak – Male: The counterpart of number 1. The members in this category can go one of two ways: They will be surprisingly normal, albeit awkward and …well, in love with anime, or they will be self righteous assholes, who know everything about everything because…well, they watch anime. These are the people who tend to argue with the (Native Japanese) professor about how a word is used in Japan.
***May also be “serious internetters”. Look out for usage of internet memes and jokes IRL.

3.) The Linguistics Major: This person might be taking the class to fulfill a requirement for the major. A number of them seem confused and frightened by Types 1 and 2, but not confused and frightened enough to avoid them. They might sit and awkwardly laugh along to the jokes, or they might simply read a book or talk to the teacher.

4.) The Asian Studies/Japanese Language Majors: These people sometimes overlap with Types 1 and 2, however, we can assume in this article that this references those who do NOT overlap. A good 50% or so of these people are Asian themselves, or mixed. They will usually sit on the opposite side of the room from Types 1 and 2, and will hang their head in shame at every stupid question the teacher has to answer. No, pokemon do not really run around Japan. Yes, Japanese people don’t all love anime. The non-Asian Type 4’s may hesitate in telling others their major, or immediately qualify themselves with “But I’m not THAT kind of Japanese major. I know I’m white, ok?”

5.) The Slacker: These are the Chemistry and Physics majors who just need to take a language to graduate. They might be Korean or Chinese, or possibly even part Japanese. They come to class a little bit late every day, and leave as soon as the bell rings. Interaction with Types 1 and 2 are minimal, and they may occasionally speak to Types 3 and 4 to ask what the homework was. However, most simply want to graduate and get out, and thus, do not care.

So there you go. Enjoy your language class, and remember, UP the highway, not ACROSS the street.

Watch Me Make This Pencil Disappear (aka The Dark Knight movie review)

So this week, I went to go see Batman: The Dark Knight, because I am a conformist who easily succumbs to peer pressure. Also, I desperately wanted a hot dog that night, and when I was told that I could get one AND a drink for the mere price of 2.00 (at a THEATRE!) because a friend worked there…well. I was sold. Note that I don’t actually know anything about Batman, and that I haven’t seen any other Batman movie. So I might be wrong here but…

The movie was fucking ace.

Despite the fact that Batman sounds like a heavy smoker named Barbara, all of the acting was fantastic. I’m not one to be into super hero movies, because they make me think of movies based on video games (oho, what’s this? We just had an article related to this? Really?) I feel a little bit like the producers are trying to rip me off, taking something I enjoy and making it into a flashy, high end film with the hottest actors that their budgets can manage. And usually COMPLETELY lacking whatever it was that made the original product so great. Never the less, I did like Ironman, so I figured I’d give this baby a shot.

The movie was like 458420 hours long, so I won’t try and write out a summary for you. Just some key points:

1. Bruce Wayne’s whole “playboy” thing was blown a little bit out of proportion, but somehow, it worked.
2. People are calling for an oscar for Heath Ledger, and he did an amazing job. I don’t think the oscar is going to happen but…Jesus Christ. The guy WAS the Joker. There’s no way you could tie this guy:

And this guy:

Insane. But there’s going to be a shitload of biases in all directions. The fans will want Heath Ledger to get an oscar because he’s dead, the voters won’t want that because…well, because he’s dead. And they probably don’t want to give the impression that death = oscar. Does he deserve an oscar? Who knows?

3. The moment leading up to Two Face…c’mon, I don’t follow batman, and even I was excited. The wait was fun.
4. The Joker apparently has no real backstory, according to my thorough research (aka browsing wikipedia at work). There’s something about him falling into a vat of chemicals or something or other, but basically, they keep the whole “WHOO MYSTERY” theme pretty well. In this movie, he has those scars on the side of the face, which seems absent from the comics, but which reminds me of Kuchisake Onna, so that’s always good.
5. Fuck Microsoft Office for closing and losing the rest of this article.
6. There were a bunch of really random cameos, one of them being Anthony Michael Hall. (That Dead Zone guy?!).
7. Morgan Freeman is always a winner in my books.
8. For those who have already seen this movie: The pencil trick was badass.
9. WTF, seriously, Batman’s girlfriend is a total whore.

So, for those of you who haven’t yet gone, go see it. The music is great, the action is really …action packed, and Heath Ledger does a magic trick. No, really. He makes a pencil VANISH. Don’t spoil it for yourself online though; those videos are poor quality and REALLY, REALLY don’t pack the same punch. You have to watch it in context, and you’ll be pleased that you did.

Why So Serious?: 9.5/10 teacups. Yeeaaaaah.

Step Back, Yo.

We have a policy called “Stepback” at the company I work for. Disappointingly, it’s not the instigation of a mandatory employee rap battle, but rather the task of taking a physical step back before commencing maintenance work and analysing whether you have the right tools, materials and training for the job at hand.

It’s a good thing, I think. Stepping back out of the frame a little and giving yourself room to take a breath and get some insight and reflection happening before you jump headfirst into something. No, really, it’s nothing short of philosophically enlightening! And besides, it’s company policy. I’m sure they’ve thoroughly thought through the ideals – what could go wrong?

Since I’m a model employee, here are some ways I’ve been including Stepback in my day to day routine:

Monday
Printer is jammed. Went to fix it, but remembered management’s instructions and took a step back to analyse the situation. Successfully gauged that I am too lazy to unblock it myself. Phoned Service Centre to request a fix.

Tuesday
Lots on my plate today; projects incoming from three different departments and complaints from all three that their own work should have immediate priority. Performed Stepback and established I do not have the correct tools with which to smash my colleagues across the face for their constant interruptions (my cup was in the dishwasher). Went to lunch instead.

Wednesday
Computer refusing to connect to network. Carried out Stepback procedure and ascertained I would be unable to open the window far enough to throw it out after all, as the louvers may impede objects exiting the 6th Floor on the west side of the building.

Thursday
Had a 9:00am meeting today. After performing Stepback from the comfort of my bedroom at approximately 8:52am and consulting with both my pillow and my cat, I informed management further training would be required in areas such as alarm-setting and not staying up late posting on the internet.

Friday
Was unsure how to proceed with a project received from the field, and Stepback made it clear to me I did not have the correct materials and should workflow task to the “too-hard basket”. Re-allocated my expertise to where it was needed most and employed my Solitaire-playing skills to their fullest extent instead, then left early for the Pub.

Alright alright, I know, I’m going over the top. But I do agree with the analytical ideals this policy puts towards eliminating human error, both in a work sense and a general one. The Stepback strategy, though corruptible as my last hard drive when taken out of context, may seem like pure common sense – but you’d be surprised how many serious injuries have been averted by having it in writing on a task sheet.

Personally though, I think the lead we should follow is my coworker’s take on it – she recently proved this work-safe tactic could be applied to more than just routine Pressure Safety Valve inspections when she lent the same principles to the task of cutting off a couple of malcontent branches high up in a tree in her back yard which were planning gravity-related terrorist attacks on the roof of her shed.

Being deathly afraid of heights, she cleverly took the Stepback approach to gauge whether or not she’d had enough champagne to work up the courage to do it – and proceeded to down half a bottle of bubbly before clambering up the tall, unsupported ladder with chainsaw in hand.

Atta girl! Talk about pushing a fine company line.

No coworkers were harmed in the writing of this article.

The Oregon Trail – Of Oxen and Eggs

Everything seems funnier when you’re young, and honestly, it’s even better if you don’t know what the fuck anyone is saying. You’re lead to a room for two hours everyday, separately from the class. At the time, you have no idea that you’re in ESL. And later on, when you get transferred to the gifted program, you never even notice the difference! After all, you just played with blocks in both of the classes anyway, right? Totally.

Disney movies become mysterious and intriguing (Why, is that a fish talking?), and everyone seems impossibly nice (“You’re retarded.” “O-I speak no English. You are very kind.” “…”). I thought All Dogs Go to Heaven was a horror film. It was awesome.

But nothing beats out the memories of those old computers, way back when. Sitting in front of your blocky IBM, printing out “reports” on those weird sheets of paper with tear away holes on both sides, spending the next half hour tearing away those holed sections on every. single. sheet. of paper in the room. And then there were the games. That one game with the airplane and the math problems, and needing to do the math quickly or else…or else, your plane would crash land in a fiery explosion of failure.

But really, we know what we were all waiting for. We were waiting for the teacher to say it was ok to play ONE game. THE one game, really. …Oregon Trail.

I swear to God, the only thing I remember from that game is dysentery and buffalo eggs. I could not understand why we kept talking about yolks in accordance with buffalo, and came to the 6 year old conclusion that they must lay eggs. And not just any eggs, but giant ones that TWO whole oxen can sit in.

A few days ago, I realized that I needed to find this game. This wasn’t unlike the time I desperately spent 2 hours searching google for the Nanosaur game from my 6th grader days. That game filled me to the very core with sheer terror, and I had no idea what the name was. If anyone looked in my google history, they would find everything from “Dinosaurs trex jetpack” to “jumping raptor oh FUCK DINOSAURS apple school games”. I needed to find it and I needed to play it, and by god, I found it and I did. And so I did for Oregon Trail as well. Luckily, it’s a little bit better known, and there was a nifty online version here, and I was able to relive my childhood.

I do not remember any of this shit in my childhood version of the game. Oregon Trail is a story of tragedy, shame, death, and flamboyant thieves. I never knew. I took some notes while playing the game, so I figured I would share them now.

Oh. The horror.

“We passed a grave today! I took a snapshot, because the message was a little strange, LOL. Sally and I had a great laugh about it. BTW, I’m a banker from Boston.”


“I should have known that that grave was bad news, but I realized too late. Sally’s broken her leg. Wait. Oh. Fuck. Wait, was…did I name my WIFE Sally? Or my daughter? Or …was it both? Was it actually my sister? Shit.”

“Still haven’t figured out who Sally is. I’ll try to find some way to ask her discreetly later on.”

Later that day:

Note: I was equally surprised and horrified by the suddenness of the information. There was no sadness or sympathy from that black screen. There was no funeral music. There wasn’t even another grave. Sally just died, and apparently we just threw her over on the side of the road and moved on, all with just one, single heartless tap of the space bar. Oh cruel fate, how could you take my dear wife/daughter from me like this?!

“Over the last few days, we’ve continued to find what the caption calls “Wild Fruit”.

It looked vaguely like pot, but who am I to say anything? As long as it takes the pain away.”

Things just kept getting worse too. Soon, Manny (my son/brother/nephew?) developed Typhoid. Naturally, my first reaction was to go hunting.

Disturbingly enough, apparently I am a penis shaped entity that shoots small pellets at things.

But I took down a fucking BEAR, so suck on that. (Figuratively speaking, but…well, he IS shaped like a …you know.)

“Timmy developed typhoid, probably because I let that stupid asshole Manny stay in the wagon, spreading his disease to everyone. God dammit. I hate my life.”

And to top it all off, fucking:

?!?!?!?!?)*#)$(@*)*&)@(*#@%#@

“Timmy died. I was notified in the same cold letters as before:

I’m pretty sure he was my son/brother.”

“I must have hooked up with an Asian sometime before I headed off on my adventure because I apparently had a child named Shoo, who suffered a snakebite in the middle of the trail. Life is hard.”

Finally, I can feel myself start to unravel at this taunting conversation:


“MY MISSUS/DAUGHTER IS DEAD, MOTHERFUCKER. SO IS TIMMY. AND NO ONE WANTS TO TRADE WITH ME. WHAT THE FUCK. THIS IS SHIT, OK?! WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

In this nearly deranged state, I wander around pathetically until I meet a possessed Indian, who wants to eat my soul:

“Oh fuck.”

…Who leads me across some deadly river with ease, in exchange for a change of smallpox infested clothing. Hmmmm.

“Shoo had the nerve to develop measles the DAY BEFORE WE FUCKING GET TO OREGON.

But all is well. We’re here! LOL! <3 Wish you were here with us. Love ???”

So, did any of this sound familiar to anyone? I don’t know if it’s just me, but I have zero recollection of any of this. And what the hell was up with the thief that just randomly showed up and stole like 200 pounds of food? Was he some sort of He-Man, able to lift twice his weight?

To end this, I feel that I should have learned my lesson after playing Nanosaur again. Some things are just best left in your childhood. Enjoy the memories, and sleep easy. There’s no need to ruin a good thing, which I’m sure we’ve all done many times.

So, I’ve decided to forget what I’ve experienced two nights ago. I’m going to pretend it never happened, because nothing can taint the strange satisfaction I used to receive when I mindlessly pressed 1 at all times, because I couldn’t read anything on the screen. Nothing can ruin that, ok? Nothing.

….

Ugh.

Fucking Cheasy Peperony.