Every time I write a post like this, I feel I need to add in a disclaimer. So here goes…
Disclaimer:
I am a huge Neil Gaiman fan, but I am really really not stalking him. Maybe except, once in a while… on his blog…
Now that we have that out of the way, check out these awesome looking stamps that Royal Mail just released!
The art is by Gaiman’s long time art collaborator, Dave McKean, graphic designer to nearly all the issues in the Sandmand Series. But along with McKean’s art, each stamp comes with one of Gaiman’s short stories.
Have I said it yet? Lucky British Bastards!
I have a problem…
These days, whenever I see a tall building such as this…
I feel like I could scale them with just my bare hands and legs.
If you don’t think that’s a problem, you probably need to rethink it to live to a ripe old age like me (28).
That’s probably the highest praise I can give to Ubisoft’s Assassin’s Creed.
Ok, highest praise beside “I have completed the game”.
You see, I’ve not played a game from start to end since… Star Wars: Unleashed on my Wii. The last game that came close was Fallout 3. But I chickened out of it when I hit the final stage of playable missions because I read that it would end the game. Yeah… I am confused by that statement as well… after I completely uninstalled the game from my computer. You know, there are just some things you don’t want to end….
It is hard for me to spend so much time on a game these days because of The Job, but Assassin’s Creed really blew me away. I know, I know, it is a relatively old game (by gaming standards), but it’s just a game I never got round to playing. There’s also the fact that my system is (again, by geek standards) relatively old and probably couldn’t stand the test of playing the newer games.
Even so, I have to set my graphic settings to medium, and even then there are places where the frame rate does not jump as well. Having said that, the graphics, at medium setting already, pardon the French, De Kick le Ass!
The 3 historical cities of Jerusalem, Damascus, and Acre are gorgeously rendered. Every brick and every tile (2 objects you’ll see a LOT of) in the sprawling cities look so real, you’ll wonder if they took a time machine and went back in time to take photos… which would be easier than actually recreating them in 3D.
In the big picture, I suppose the modeling of the buildings is the easier part of the job, because every city (and even the roads to the city) are populated by hundreds, if not thousands of relatively unique looking citizens. Of course, after a while, you’ll be able to differentiate the citizens into various classes and how they will be bothering you during the gameplay, but it is an incredible feat nontheless.
So what do you do in such lovely looking cities? Why? Among other things you’ll scale the walls and chimneys to reach vantage points, fling archers off rooftops, silently assassinate guards with the blade hidden in your sleeves, and engage in rooftop chases with the local law enforcers, of course. It’s Medievel Parkour with a friggin nasty blade.
Which brings us back to my problem. The actions are so fluid and Altair (the game’s sortof protagonist) makes the actions look so simple and effortless that you would want to attempt it yourself. Also, the sandbox world, besides looking pretty, also feels surprisingly real in the sense that for a game where a “Leap of Faith” is the normal mode of getting off the pinnacles of church towers, there are no artificial elements such as a big red spot saying “JUMP HERE!!”. You just have to trust that there is a bale of hay at the bottom to break your fall.
That is why beside the relatively adult theme and the huge amount of blood that would be shed throughout the game, this is definitely not a game for impressionable kids. I am surprised that the Girlfriend has not snatched it from me yet. It does help that she is a few continents away.
It’s definitely not a perfect game. The sidequests are almost mind numbingly repetitive. After you’ve saved 1 citizen from being bullied, you’ve saved them all. It kinda remind me of the console’s Spiderman series of games, only that you are parkouring instead of webslinging through an open city. But still, the visuals are so great you won’t mind having to climb near to 100 towers (I’ve counted) to reach the various vantage points. Beside needing to do so to open up hints for the quests, you’ll want to climb them just to see the view from the top.
What the side quests lack in complexity, the storyline made up, with extra salt and pepper and a whole leg of lamb thrown in. The twists in the main story are not entirely cerebral burning, but the ending will leave you confused, and even a little bit angry because it makes no sense at all…. yet.
Apparently Assassin’s Creed is conceived as a trilogy (strange how everyone is doing it after George Lucas did it with the Star Wars Tri.. I mean Nine-nology) so the coming sequels will answered all questions. This first one was supposed to set the stage for the upcoming sequels. We shall see… which probably be what Ubisoft wants anyway because even now I am eagerly waiting for the sequel… especially after seeing the awesome trailer below. Ijust hope I don’t have to wait for a year plus before I can play it.
All in all, it’s a game worth playing if only just to ogle at the breathtaking landscapes and architectures. The stunning visuals will make you forget that you are repeatedly doing the same button pushing to accomplish the same side quests over and over again. And the ending while infuriating will make you sigh with relief… “at least this is not the last I will see of the game”.
Yup, pretty things do that to people. Just ask the guys I saw at the club the other night buying drinks after drinks to the nubile young things parading by.
Stuck babysitting pesky kids? Stuck on a remote island? Stuck finding a model for your master painting? Stuck with a Nintendo DS with a perfectly working touch screen that you do not know how break?
What do you do?
If Nintendo could do anything about it, a group of Men in Black- esque Elite Beat Agents will show up at your door step and blast these troubles away by… Dancing. (Think Will Smite/Tommy Lee Jones…. in manga… with their dancing shoes on)
Yup, you read right… dancing. Utilizing some of the coolest dance moves this side of Michael Jackson (Wave hands in the air together, anybody?), the Agents will groove you outta your troubles.
The gameplay itself is easy to learn. Tapping away at rapidly shrinking rings in time with the music while the main story unfolds on the top screen, Elite Beat Agents shows one of the most innovative use of the NDS unique touch screen/dual screen layout.
Learning the game is one thing, mastering it is a whole new monster all together. If you are like me, you’ll probably spend hours on end, playing the same songs over and over again just to get the super elusive “A” or “S” rank, and at some of the later stages just trying to clear the stage to unlock the next ones.
Repeated playback of the same song can cause some serious mental issues if one is not careful, like say in the event that said song is of the Macerana or My Heart Will Go On variety. Trust me, listening to the same song for an hour (at least) is not very uncommon once you start getting into the game.
And getting into the game is easy simply because it’s a game that is very hard not to like, if it makes any sense at all. It is chockful of some of the most bizarre characters and oddball situations in any game I’ve played so far, and that is saying a lot.
The title has a certain bit of… for lack of a better word, magic to it. Unless you’re lacking the humour gene in your DNA, you’ll laugh at and laugh along with the game as you search for pirate treasure to the Village People’s YMCA, hang out with socialites on a deserted island to the tune of Madonna’s Material Girl, and (of course) saving the world from evil planet conquering aliens (Aliens that conquer planets, not malevolent lands that occupy aliens). The storylines are so cheesy and over the top that you really have to applaud the evil geniuses that came up with them.
The rhythm of the story telling is something to enjoy too. The songs get progressively faster, and hence harder, but a master touch was the inclusion of Chicago’s You’re the inspiration midway through the game breaks the rhythm, not in a bad way. In fact, it was one of my favourite songs to play in the game. Of course, the fact that the rhythm is slower and hence easier to tap along helps too.
The playlist are all covers, of course. But they are a mish mash of old favourites and relatively recent top 40s. You will play songs from Jamiroquai to Village People. From Cher to Madonna to Avril Lavinge. Great stuff.
All in all, it’s a fantastic overall package and one of the best games on the Nintendo DS. Say what you want about Rock Band for the PSP, Elite Beat Agent is THE rhythm game for the handheld console.
Let’s see Rock Band Unplugged fans come up with a tribute video like this!
Now that the Harry Fever is almost on us again with the coming of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince,
I actually managed to dig up this little ditty that the Fiance came up with a few years back.
So, now for the very first time, the cast of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix doing…
You got it…
The YMCA!
Young Man, there's no need to feel down
Enjoy!
3 posts in 1 day has got to be a record.
I’ve mentioned before that THIS is a company that I could really work for.
Youtubing today further reinforced my point.
Being environmentally friendly and socially responsible is a Big icing on the cake.
Also, they have truly creative ways to solve old problems. According to the Google blog, they “have some fields that we need to mow occasionally to clear weeds and brush to reduce fire hazard”. Ordinary people (meaning people like you and I) would’ve just taken out a lawn mower to get rid of the grass. But not Google.
They used goats to mow the lawn. True story.
No wonder it is one of the Fortune 100 companies to work for.
If I haven’t declared it yet:
I would do almost anything to work for Google!
I’ve spoken about this before but nothing prepared me for Omega Beam Fried Batman.
This post is a bit late, coming to the party. The cynical among you would diss this as just another publicity attempt and that Bats would “return from the dead” soon enough.
To that, I say… “Bah”
We already know that Bats (version: Bruce Wayne) is not dead from the final pages of Final Crisis. But this doesn’t stop DC from dishing out a plethora of “Life after Batman” stories.
Unlike the publicity stunt that was Death of Superman, the follow up stories to the death of the Bat were surprisingly good. The ongoing “Battle of the Cowl” series brilliantly highlighted many of the bits characters of the Bat-verse fighting it out to see who would be the next Batman.
Of course, special mention goes to “Whatever happened to the Caped Crusader” by, who else, Neil Gaiman.
I got the comics a few weeks ago. I had to visit 3 comics shop before being able to acquire Part 2 and Part 1 of the tale… at a cut throat price. I had to do it all with a ranting Girlfriend in tow.
So, the question to ask is… Was it worth it?
To be honest I bought the books based solely on the brand name of Neil Gaiman.
I am a Blind Fan.
And to be even more honest, I kinda hated the books on the first reading. It felt like Neil Gaiman was trying to outweird Grant Morrison, who, of course was the guy responsible for the death of Batman in the first place. (Check out: Batman: R.I.P. and Final Crisis for more information)
Grant Morrison is weird. Grant Morrison has a HUGE fan base from him being weird. Reading a Grant Morrison story is like trying to ride a roller coaster through the House of Mirrors while ingesting copious amounts of Magic Mushrooms.
I don’t like Grant Morrison.
Neil Gaiman, on the other hand, Neil Gaiman wrote the Sandman, for goodness sake. I simply cannot believe that he weird write just for weird writing’s sake. I had to assume he was doing a “Game of You” again. “Game of You”, for the uninitiated is one of the Sandman collection featuring Barbie (yup, actual name and not the doll) and her adventures into her dreamland. The story features a talking cockatoo, a man with a chestful of blackbirds (chest as in breast and not the wooden variety) and witches traveling by way of menses.
Hated the story the first time. Loved it on re-reading.
So I dug out “Whatever happened to the Caped Crusader” again today to give it a second reading.
Ok. Even on the second reading, I wouldn’t say it is a story that would live on through the ages.
But it’s starting to read good.
You start to appreciate how the various eras of Batman is represented in the stories.
You’ll appreciate the “Dream” leimotiff (fancy french word for snails) that Gaiman has since the start of his career.
You’ll see how Gaiman used the various short stories scattered in the series to showcase different aspects of the Batman myth. It’s almost like Neil Gaiman’s love letter to Batman.
There is even a central message through the whole story. A message of “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how you die. People will always remember you for something. And that something depends on how you lived your life. On your part, you just die at the end of the day.”
I kinda like that.
Politics all around the world had been, for the most part dominated by Men. No matter how fast the feminist movement has progressed over the past few years, there always seem to be a glass ceiling for them to progress to the upper echelons of the political world.
Not anymore.
It seems that the women folks have stumbled on a way to topple our way of life as we know it… The method is so low and yet so blindingly brilliant, not to mention obvious that it’s a wonder no one thought about it earlier. I have a friend in Kenya and he must not be responding well to this little piece of news:
I’m sure some of you are thinking to yourselves (by some of you, I meant Women). Would this work? Would Men really succumb to such childish tactics? Would powerful Men give up their quest for power just so they can get into some girls’ panties? Are we so sex-crazed that we would be so easily manipulated?
Speaking as someone who has years of experience being a man, I would say… No doubt about it.
I am not proud of it, but once, in my younger days, I’ve snucked into the Campus swimming pool in the dead of night, and jumped, fully clothed into the pool in the hopes that a specific Girl would let me get into her panties and bear my babies. Of course, I did not count on the fact that most sane women would not want to perpetuate “breaking-and-entering,pool-jumping” genes.
I digress.
Rukia Subow of Maendeleo ya Wanawake of the G10 umbrella of Kenyan women’s organisations was quoted as saying, “This is a national boycott to show that the women of this country have resolved to push for reforms”
If that was not a magnificent pun, I don’t know what is.
“We want an urgent solution to the political problems facing this country,” Subow said, urging the wives of quarrelling coalition partners President Mwai Kibaki and Prime Minister Raila Odinga to support the movement.
Of course, my sympathies go to the Prime Minister, who was unknowingly caught in the middle of this discourse. Because in spite of being able to lead an entire country, planning out the various policies to lead the country through this economic crisis, he will not be able to enjoy some Sexytime.
The premier’s wife, Ida Odinga, said she supported the strike body and soul.
Maybe he should try sneaking into local pool and take a cold shower instead.
I know I know. This place has been barren for some time.
Been busy with other stuff and I have to proudly declare that THAT was a tremendous success, seeing that the Girlfriend is no more.
No, don’t start reporting me to interpol yet.
I’ve just managed to convert the Girlfriend into the Fiancée (or is that fiancé? I’m never sure…). Yeeeeesh…I’m still trying to wrap my mind around calling her that…
We’ve already heard from many reliable sources that getting married is a big logistical and administrative nightmare, so we had a discussion and decided that the best thing we should do is to take things methodically, categorizing all the things we need to do into order of importances, creating spreadsheets of check off lists, and listing down the names and contact numbers of important people…right after we catch the leprecaun ridding on the unicorn in Atlantis.
Seriously, at the moment, it seems like such a monumentous task that we decided we should start by taking small steps and begin work on the most important task at hand…setting up a “Getting Married” blog.
And like all good endeavors, we’re stuck at the most important part – finding a name for the blog.
We’ve already cross veto-ed and exhausted options that sound cool (The Very Cool Married Blog, The Super Cool Married Blog, The Too Cool for School Married Blog), Punnishly funny (get it? get it?) ones (The Tohst, The Jolly Tohst), obscure movie/cultural/music references (Till you Ring it Till you Sing it, Buying a 747 for the Peanuts, Filling Each Other’s Gaps <NO! FOR THE LAST TIME, IT IS NOT PORNY, IT’S ROCKY!!>, the ominously sounding Life Forever More) but so far, nothing seems to fit.
We’ve dedicated the first few weeks of the engagement in this pursuit and danggit, we will not move on until we get this done.
Watch this space for updates
P.S: don’t worry true believers, this site will still be maintained if only to share my brilliant thoughts on love, life, movies, comics, music, insane human experiments and anything else in between. I just have to do the other site for my new life now. *cue awwwwwwwww*
The Hugo Awards is upon us again.
After rejecting the nomination for Anansi Boys a few years back, Neil Gaiman has accepted the nomination for the Graveyard Book, adding to the millions of accolades heaped upon it.
While the Graveyard Book is one of the VERY VERY VERY few books that I get to finish reading, cover to cover in recent times, I did not feel it was THAT strong an offering. I think I got through it based mainly on loyalty to the author. Felt that many of the themes and ideas were rehashed from his earlier works… Sandman and the wonderfully awesome American Gods come to mind.
I love the fact that the Hugos has now shed it’s snotty potty pretentiousness and now have categories which honor Graphic Novels, as well as films. Definitely a step in the right direction. After all, art evolves, stories evolve, and so the story form must evolve as well.
As a friend reminded me recently… The Medium is the Message.
American Gods, now THAT is a book that totally deserves the Hugo. Just re-read it and it’s still good on it’s 5th reading. There’s something about the characters that makes you feel for almost each and everyone of them. The rich history that comes with each of the Gods makes the book read like a Justice League of Gods, of sorts. In my eyes, it deserves a “Classic” status already.
Speaking of American Gods, I actually managed to dredge up this really cool website. It lists most, if not all the gods mentioned in American Gods, along with their unique origin stories!
It’s a great read for those that dig the book. For those that dig mythologies. And especially for those love reading up on obscure deities, forgotten gods, and little known stories.
Anyway, the point of this whole post is that, looking through the list, it makes me realize how much I’ve fallen. There was a time when I would have gone out to get most of the books on the list, if only just to glance through them. These days, I can only gaze at the list wistfully and wish I have the time to read even 1 of them.
“Working Life Sucks” is a recurring mantra on this site. So I decided to do something about it. I put my foot down, and downloaded Neil Stephenson’s Anathem. Now I am sneaking sentences while commuting on the train, while waiting for the Girlfriend, and of course, while sitting on the pot.
Even so, I still yearn for the day when I can just cosy up on my couch with a book in my hands, a hot cocoa drink besides me and a thunderstorm raging outside my window.
These days, it seems all I can get is the thunderstorm…
I’ve not been these impressed since seeing Ronaldhino hit the bar of the goal post more than 10 times… consecutively… from outside the penalty box.
Or since Tiger Woods juggle a golf ball with his golf club
I have no idea how true these clips are, but for a while they made me call football - soccer….
And that is a big thing.
Definitely one for the imaginary future house. Imagine the possibilities!
Yes, apparently, the plural for sheep is… sheep. The Girlfriend will be pleased with that admission after 6 years of denial from me.
Anyway, the following is what would happen if you give a bunch of Christmas lights to sheep herders with waaaaaay too much time on their hands.
The results are seriously, for short of a better word… awesome.
Really have to give it to them.
Sidenote: Sheep have the most ridiculous blur looks on their faces, don’t they?
I attended a secondary school friend’s wedding over the weekend.
The tricky thing about such reunions is that there is bound to be comparison on how you are now and how you were. People (broadly defined as those not of the Male gender) like to associate how you were and how you eventually turned out. Before those that wear panties decide to get theirs in a bunch, I present the following evidence…
I’ve not seen some of these people for more than a decade, but I could swear that the girls took great pains to squeeze into dress sizes they were wearing a decade ago. Some of them more apparent than others – Here I’m talking about the the ones that are looking more and more like Smurfettes as the evening wore on. No, I know that girls don’t shrink. I’m talking about the ones turning blue from holding their breath and sucking in their tummy for the whole night.
One of the Plus1s confided that his fiancée (a prominent belle of the school, back in the days) actually went on a crash diet so that she would not be bitched about by, direct quote “the other Fat Cows” at the wedding reception.
Most of the boys at the wedding reception, on the other hand, fitted comfortably into their shirts from a decade ago… if we decided to wear them as our sock.
Still not convinced? I present Evidence 2
The groom introduced us to the bride, whom some of us were seeing for the first time.
As they went around the table, shaking everyones’ hands, you could just make out the girls giving knowing glances to each other as they checked out the wedding band.
There had been a discussion earlier in the evening with regard to the type of ring the notoriously thrifty groom would get for his bride. The discussion had inadvertantly (of course) turned to what kind of rings their own boyfriends/fiancés/husbands/(I swear this is true)”boyfriend if I had one” got them.
Spontaneous hand fanning, strategically showing (and in some instances hiding) ringed fingers simultaneously occurred around the table during this point of the discussion.
The Boys, on the other hand concentrated very hard not to appear like they were staring at the bride’s boobs.
Appear being the operative word. We can’t help it.
Wedding gowns, especially tube wedding gown with plunging necklines shows us things that we do not normally see. We concluded that that might possibly be the reason why everyone’s fawning about how the women are always the most beautiful on their wedding days.
I digress… Anyway, as the night wore on, the ladies continued having meaningful discussions and finding out little details about each others’ lives, if only to compare.
As for the Boys, we knew better than to be caught in the cross fire. We were engaged in more mature activities such as rubbing each others’ pot bellies and knocking the occasional bald patches with our knuckles.
