Day four of... God, I don't even remember how many days in a row I'll be working before I get a day off. I've been going in and out of work for so long now, I've lost all sense of time and day. Four days ago (Tuesday) I was under the impression it was Friday. Two days ago (Thursday) I thought it was Tuesday. Last night I believed it was 2230 when it was merely 2045.
Honestly, I need a break. Mind you, I'm not talking about a mere two days off - I'm talking about a week-long hiatus from life, the universe and everything.
And I'm not talking about a "Hey, Josh, did you disappear again or something?" moment - I'm talking about a much-needed vacation. Such a vacation will allow me more time to work on my personal projects, catch up with friends I haven't seen in a while and give me more time to clear my head so I can actually post 1,000+ entries this month without making it look like I'm just pulling words out of my ass.
Now, if I were to have things go my way, I'd go buy some isolated house in an undisclosed location and just live in it in semi-isolation for an extended period of time - kind of like Henry David Thoreau's Walden. Life doesn't work like that, though - you don't just get to do what you want. Most things nowadays have to be obtained through work.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
Maybe Love Is...
Tags:
In Case of Emergency,
opinions,
romance,
writing
I'm going to be honest with y'all here: nothing came to mind when I began writing an entry today. For about an hour I found myself looking at the screen, wondering what in the world I'd be typing. Add the fact that I needed to compose something consisting of over one thousand words and you'll have a dilemma: a writer who, at the current rate he's going for the day, won't make deadline.
Before I started this entire blog, I went through some of my old work - posts on past blogs I liked, old papers I wrote (of which only a few were actually for school), poems and scripts I composed over the years. Of these, I grabbed what I believed to be the cream of the crop and copied them into a folder that I labeled "In Case of Emergency" - only to be used when I've spent a considerable amount of time staring at the same screen because I honestly could not compose anything to slap on here.
From what I looked through in the archives, I've broken into this folder... ...well, if you count today, I think only twice now. Considering how today's post will be the 252nd, I'd say that's pretty good non-usage of this emergency folder - it's only been used for a little under one percent of the time!
Anyway, as I looked through the "In Case of Emergency" folder, I found this little gem I wrote one fateful Halloween back in 2008. As most (if not all) of you know, back then I was... well, less optimistic and more emotional than I am now. Granted, I still have moments like that (we all do), but lately the only reasons I've regressed is because I was pushed to that point. I decided to post this document for three reasons:
So, enjoy this ol' favorite of mine, and I'll see y'all tomorrow! Star Fox 64 3D, food and work await! *flies off*
31 October 2008
(revised 02 Oct 2009)
When it comes to understanding love, it is something none of us will ever fully and truly reach alone. But if we share the love with each other - and should we find someone in particular to share its warmth with - we can get pretty damn close.
Before, I've made it no secret how much I loathe and pine for that poisonous quartet of letters. Longtime readers of my blogs will remember my (mostly) unenthusiastic opinions on love – that it was a vile and atrocious man-eater, making heroes out of stagnant liars and villains out of honest gentlemen. As a guy who is single and has never had a girlfriend (at least at the time of writing this), it seems hypocritical of me to even attempt to give the world some definition of this downright tricky four-letter-word. Yet here I am, doing it anyway as an attempt to find my heart reprieve in this maddening world that is 2009.
Truth be told, I don’t think anybody has even come close to finding a proper definition of love. Many have tried; many have failed - and today, the world is filled with numerous quotes about this seemingly simple word.
Now, I’m not claiming to be the go-to guy in this sort of matter, but maybe I can shed a little more light with these petite theories that might just get us closer to answering the infinitely-asked question, "What is love?"
Maybe love is finding someone to share a clear night sky with - someone to whisper their deepest wishes to instead of the distant stars, someone to confide the most heartfelt truths to in lieu of the moon, and someone to help sow one’s hopes across the heavens when a shooting star flies by.
Maybe love is being able to lie on the green grass, head empty of worry and soul fully at peace.
Maybe love is that dark void in your heart, longing to be filled with the compassion of another.
Maybe love is right in front of you and you don’t even know it.
Maybe love is that silver platter of an opportunity you've been too blind or prideful to take.
Maybe love doesn’t have to exist in the land of dreams… maybe it can be real.
Maybe love is connecting to a song that captures the romantic essence of your soul. Maybe that song is only for one singer and the song is meant to be sung to that special someone. Maybe it can be made into a duet that this distinct person can join you in. Maybe the song is romantic in the first place and its lyrics need no explanation. Maybe the piece is an instrumental whose home-hitting melody speaks to you wordlessly. Or maybe it’s just what your heart desperately wants to say to them when your mind is too stubborn and/or shy to admit the truth and when your lips fail to mutter anything coherent.
Maybe love can save someone’s life when mere words and actions can’t.
Maybe love is knowing "How to Save a Life" (and I don’t just mean the Fray song, either).
Maybe "Love Comes Again" - even to those that Tiësto and BT weren’t singing about.
Maybe love is that guilty pleasure of a romantic song you sing along with on a lone drive home.
Maybe love wants you to be like Journey and "Don’t Stop Believin'" in it.
Maybe love prioritizes quality over everything else. It doesn’t require the high-end, lavish luxuries that the flauntingly rich can pompously toss about. Such a complex emotion needs not a high-quality dinner from a five-star restaurant, a cruise down a long road in a silver convertible BMW and first class seating in a major game or performance. Maybe all it needed was an inexpensive trip to a local sushi bar, a serene stroll through the waterfront and a lot of meaningful conversation. (Then again, love knows no boundaries. There are honorable people who can afford extravagance on dates and those who cannot. To me, it matters not how much one invests on the outing with money, but rather how much one invests with their soul.)
Maybe love is that magical thing that makes all money worthless and one sweet smile priceless.
Maybe love is the Chekhov’s gun that ends the night with a soft, genuine, romantic midnight kiss.
Maybe love is (according to Dr. Perry Cox from Scrubs) "...mainly about pushing chocolate-covered candies and [...] in some cultures, a chicken."
Maybe love is when the nice guy - who, after an eternity of playing fair yet finishing last against the many cheaters in the race - finally places first.
Maybe love is that botched plan of a date that ends up being an amazing night to remember.
Maybe love is taking precedence of their feelings rather than your own. It can be as simple as granting space when needed and offering shade in the sweltering heat of stress, even when they fail to ask for it. It can be the act of remaining steadfast for them in the face of adversity, or being oneself, knowing that "those who mind don’t matter while those who matter don’t mind." It can also be an act of selflessness – being there to wipe the tears away, offering company and a reassuring hug and asking for nothing in return.
Maybe love is sacrificing your happiness so theirs may flourish, knowing full well that they may never thank you - and still being okay with it.
Maybe love is proof that chivalry isn’t dead.
Maybe love is that honorable hero(ine) we wish we were instead of the shadowed being we currently are.
Maybe love means taking the hit if you really care for someone, no matter what the outcome is.
Maybe love takes a bite even when the shine’s off the apple.
Maybe love takes form of all emotions, of all actions, of all words, of all people. While it is the prince of happiness, the messenger of euphoria and the gateway to Utopia, love is also the harbinger of vulnerability, the summoner of timidity and the door to any black hole in one’s heart. Its sheer power forces one to perform actions never intended to happen and bestows emotions that overwhelm the psyche. Love can provoke unnecessary aggression, impulsive behavior, bitter melancholia, troublesome contemplation, chaotic anxiety, sheer ignorance, abrupt speechlessness, fluttering elation and heart-sinking depression. And yet, while one can acknowledge the existence and aftermath of their actions and thoughts, they can never locate the source of its appearance, even though it is blatantly obvious what triggered it all.
Maybe love turns the confident into the shy, the prideful into the humble, and the apathetic into the caring.
Maybe love forces us to do both smart and stupid things. (Mostly stupid.)
Maybe love is silent - maybe it needs no words to be expressed.
Maybe love is saying "I love you" without the "I love you."
Maybe love is just looking deep in their eyes, saying nothing, and having the greatest conversation ever.
Maybe love hurts. "It gets inside you," Rose Walker from Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman states. "It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain." (But as Incubus sings: "Love hurts / But sometimes it’s a good hurt / And it feels like I’m alive / Love sings / When it transcends the bad things / Have a heart and try me / ‘cause without love I won’t survive.")
Maybe love forces you into staying up all night and getting caught up in your mind. In the morning, you claim the ordeal as mere insomnia... when you really know better.
Maybe love is that icy void - that vulnerable feeling in your heart that yearns to be filled.
Maybe love is dramatic irony incarnate - those involved are blind to it, and everyone else around them knows exactly how the play will finish. (Of course, they can be wrong, too.)
Maybe love is star-crossed. Then again, maybe it isn’t, either.
Maybe love is an example of a famed mathematical thought: chaos theory.
Maybe love is the ultimate paradigm of yin and yang. No other emotion can muster such a delicate equilibrium of duality. Love is serenity and pandemonium, reciprocation and rejection, subtlety and flamboyancy, pleasure and pain, bliss and misery, forbidden and accepted, harmony and discord, aspiration and despondency, intimidation and confidence, unity and separation. (The irony of it all is that understanding love is also a balancing act of clarity and ambiguity - one can comprehend its meaning but still be lost in its perplexing definition.)
Maybe love can’t be described at all.
Maybe love possesses no actual definition of its own - rather, love’s meaning is the very one held within our own hearts.
Maybe love is the act of you reading this, trying to use my words to formulate a definition to call your own.
Maybe love is what you make it to be. "To each their own" when it comes to happiness, so why not love?
Maybe "love" and "believe" are two words that go hand-in-hand.
Maybe love will someday come to me...
Before I started this entire blog, I went through some of my old work - posts on past blogs I liked, old papers I wrote (of which only a few were actually for school), poems and scripts I composed over the years. Of these, I grabbed what I believed to be the cream of the crop and copied them into a folder that I labeled "In Case of Emergency" - only to be used when I've spent a considerable amount of time staring at the same screen because I honestly could not compose anything to slap on here.
From what I looked through in the archives, I've broken into this folder... ...well, if you count today, I think only twice now. Considering how today's post will be the 252nd, I'd say that's pretty good non-usage of this emergency folder - it's only been used for a little under one percent of the time!
Anyway, as I looked through the "In Case of Emergency" folder, I found this little gem I wrote one fateful Halloween back in 2008. As most (if not all) of you know, back then I was... well, less optimistic and more emotional than I am now. Granted, I still have moments like that (we all do), but lately the only reasons I've regressed is because I was pushed to that point. I decided to post this document for three reasons:
- It's inspirational. Some of my friends who've read this were touched by its words, so I decided, "Hey; let's throw it on the Internet! Maybe I'll affect someone else's life in a great way with today's entry!"
- Let's face it: I'm a hopeless romantic, no matter how much I deny it tooth and nail. I was in the past, and I still am. It makes sense for someone like me to write this, and who am I to deny what I truly am?
- It was the only document in the "In Case of Emergency" folder that went over 1,000 words. *nervous laugh*
So, enjoy this ol' favorite of mine, and I'll see y'all tomorrow! Star Fox 64 3D, food and work await! *flies off*
---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------
"Maybe Love Is…"
Josh D. "Whitey" Blanco31 October 2008
(revised 02 Oct 2009)
When it comes to understanding love, it is something none of us will ever fully and truly reach alone. But if we share the love with each other - and should we find someone in particular to share its warmth with - we can get pretty damn close.
Before, I've made it no secret how much I loathe and pine for that poisonous quartet of letters. Longtime readers of my blogs will remember my (mostly) unenthusiastic opinions on love – that it was a vile and atrocious man-eater, making heroes out of stagnant liars and villains out of honest gentlemen. As a guy who is single and has never had a girlfriend (at least at the time of writing this), it seems hypocritical of me to even attempt to give the world some definition of this downright tricky four-letter-word. Yet here I am, doing it anyway as an attempt to find my heart reprieve in this maddening world that is 2009.
Truth be told, I don’t think anybody has even come close to finding a proper definition of love. Many have tried; many have failed - and today, the world is filled with numerous quotes about this seemingly simple word.
Now, I’m not claiming to be the go-to guy in this sort of matter, but maybe I can shed a little more light with these petite theories that might just get us closer to answering the infinitely-asked question, "What is love?"
Maybe love is finding someone to share a clear night sky with - someone to whisper their deepest wishes to instead of the distant stars, someone to confide the most heartfelt truths to in lieu of the moon, and someone to help sow one’s hopes across the heavens when a shooting star flies by.
Maybe love is being able to lie on the green grass, head empty of worry and soul fully at peace.
Maybe love is that dark void in your heart, longing to be filled with the compassion of another.
Maybe love is right in front of you and you don’t even know it.
Maybe love is that silver platter of an opportunity you've been too blind or prideful to take.
Maybe love doesn’t have to exist in the land of dreams… maybe it can be real.
Maybe love is connecting to a song that captures the romantic essence of your soul. Maybe that song is only for one singer and the song is meant to be sung to that special someone. Maybe it can be made into a duet that this distinct person can join you in. Maybe the song is romantic in the first place and its lyrics need no explanation. Maybe the piece is an instrumental whose home-hitting melody speaks to you wordlessly. Or maybe it’s just what your heart desperately wants to say to them when your mind is too stubborn and/or shy to admit the truth and when your lips fail to mutter anything coherent.
Maybe love can save someone’s life when mere words and actions can’t.
Maybe love is knowing "How to Save a Life" (and I don’t just mean the Fray song, either).
Maybe "Love Comes Again" - even to those that Tiësto and BT weren’t singing about.
Maybe love is that guilty pleasure of a romantic song you sing along with on a lone drive home.
Maybe love wants you to be like Journey and "Don’t Stop Believin'" in it.
Maybe love prioritizes quality over everything else. It doesn’t require the high-end, lavish luxuries that the flauntingly rich can pompously toss about. Such a complex emotion needs not a high-quality dinner from a five-star restaurant, a cruise down a long road in a silver convertible BMW and first class seating in a major game or performance. Maybe all it needed was an inexpensive trip to a local sushi bar, a serene stroll through the waterfront and a lot of meaningful conversation. (Then again, love knows no boundaries. There are honorable people who can afford extravagance on dates and those who cannot. To me, it matters not how much one invests on the outing with money, but rather how much one invests with their soul.)
Maybe love is that magical thing that makes all money worthless and one sweet smile priceless.
Maybe love is the Chekhov’s gun that ends the night with a soft, genuine, romantic midnight kiss.
Maybe love is (according to Dr. Perry Cox from Scrubs) "...mainly about pushing chocolate-covered candies and [...] in some cultures, a chicken."
Maybe love is when the nice guy - who, after an eternity of playing fair yet finishing last against the many cheaters in the race - finally places first.
Maybe love is that botched plan of a date that ends up being an amazing night to remember.
Maybe love is taking precedence of their feelings rather than your own. It can be as simple as granting space when needed and offering shade in the sweltering heat of stress, even when they fail to ask for it. It can be the act of remaining steadfast for them in the face of adversity, or being oneself, knowing that "those who mind don’t matter while those who matter don’t mind." It can also be an act of selflessness – being there to wipe the tears away, offering company and a reassuring hug and asking for nothing in return.
Maybe love is sacrificing your happiness so theirs may flourish, knowing full well that they may never thank you - and still being okay with it.
Maybe love is proof that chivalry isn’t dead.
Maybe love is that honorable hero(ine) we wish we were instead of the shadowed being we currently are.
Maybe love means taking the hit if you really care for someone, no matter what the outcome is.
Maybe love takes a bite even when the shine’s off the apple.
Maybe love takes form of all emotions, of all actions, of all words, of all people. While it is the prince of happiness, the messenger of euphoria and the gateway to Utopia, love is also the harbinger of vulnerability, the summoner of timidity and the door to any black hole in one’s heart. Its sheer power forces one to perform actions never intended to happen and bestows emotions that overwhelm the psyche. Love can provoke unnecessary aggression, impulsive behavior, bitter melancholia, troublesome contemplation, chaotic anxiety, sheer ignorance, abrupt speechlessness, fluttering elation and heart-sinking depression. And yet, while one can acknowledge the existence and aftermath of their actions and thoughts, they can never locate the source of its appearance, even though it is blatantly obvious what triggered it all.
Maybe love turns the confident into the shy, the prideful into the humble, and the apathetic into the caring.
Maybe love forces us to do both smart and stupid things. (Mostly stupid.)
Maybe love is silent - maybe it needs no words to be expressed.
Maybe love is saying "I love you" without the "I love you."
Maybe love is just looking deep in their eyes, saying nothing, and having the greatest conversation ever.
Maybe love hurts. "It gets inside you," Rose Walker from Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman states. "It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain." (But as Incubus sings: "Love hurts / But sometimes it’s a good hurt / And it feels like I’m alive / Love sings / When it transcends the bad things / Have a heart and try me / ‘cause without love I won’t survive.")
Maybe love forces you into staying up all night and getting caught up in your mind. In the morning, you claim the ordeal as mere insomnia... when you really know better.
Maybe love is that icy void - that vulnerable feeling in your heart that yearns to be filled.
Maybe love is dramatic irony incarnate - those involved are blind to it, and everyone else around them knows exactly how the play will finish. (Of course, they can be wrong, too.)
Maybe love is star-crossed. Then again, maybe it isn’t, either.
Maybe love is an example of a famed mathematical thought: chaos theory.
Maybe love is the ultimate paradigm of yin and yang. No other emotion can muster such a delicate equilibrium of duality. Love is serenity and pandemonium, reciprocation and rejection, subtlety and flamboyancy, pleasure and pain, bliss and misery, forbidden and accepted, harmony and discord, aspiration and despondency, intimidation and confidence, unity and separation. (The irony of it all is that understanding love is also a balancing act of clarity and ambiguity - one can comprehend its meaning but still be lost in its perplexing definition.)
Maybe love can’t be described at all.
Maybe love possesses no actual definition of its own - rather, love’s meaning is the very one held within our own hearts.
Maybe love is the act of you reading this, trying to use my words to formulate a definition to call your own.
Maybe love is what you make it to be. "To each their own" when it comes to happiness, so why not love?
Maybe "love" and "believe" are two words that go hand-in-hand.
Maybe love will someday come to me...
Thursday, September 8, 2011
How (NOT) to Feel Miserable as an Artist
Every once in a while a person is moved deeply by something they experience. No kind of person runs into a situation like this more often than the world's oldest idealist: the artist. The experiences can and will vary - it could be a movie they find inspirational, a song that touches the heart and soul, a paragraph of governmental statutes that triggers an organized (peaceful) reaction, some dream that jump-starts their muse(s), or even a giant plate of maple syrup-drenched buttermilk waffles that motivates them to cook something amazing for dinner. While things like this exist in ordinary life and are encountered by everyday people, it is the artist who takes it a step further and adds some "extra" to their "ordinary."
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Non Sequitur 4: Totally Not a Rush Job
Tags:
non sequitur
Afternoon, everyone! Welcome to today's entry on The White Knight Chronicles.
Today marks the first day of at least five straight working days. Hours are slowly beginning to pick up, which means lots of hours for me... which means losing my day to work. While that's bad for this blog in the sense that I'm restricted on time, it's good for my wallet and finances.
Well, let's get right on with it, shall we?
Sun-Weathered Hatred
(Or: how I dislike the sun and its actions.)
With the weather how it is is in my part of southern California, it's no surprise that I refer to it sometimes as "September's Summer." Sweltering heat at a time when it should be cooling down... weather like this has the potential to throw me out of sync and screw with my sinuses at the same time. Technically, it is still summer (autumn officially begins on the 23rd), but come on... summer decides to kick in and become uncomfortably warm now when schools are back in session and work begins to go on the rise? Geez; we might as well rewind the clock by about a few months and start summer over or something.
I don't know. Maybe it's just me lashing out at the summer weather because I'm not a fan of the season. I know, I know - a Californian who despises the season of sun, swimming and... sweet-ass parties? (I was just trying to use something that kept up the alliteration. Could've been worse... I could've used "sex," "shade" or "sedition" as the random third adjective...) That just doesn't seem all right there, now don't it?
Now, I don't hate the summer because it interferes with the look pasty, indoor-type nerds have. I don't hate the it because I'm a bastard who likes screwing with other people's minds for funsies. I don't hate it because it screws up and gives you a tan that makes you look laughable in a professional setting. I certainly don't hate it because I supposedly can't stand the heat. It's also not because the sun irradiates all of us with alpha, beta and gamma rays. (Let's not get into physics and science; I never was one to enjoy stuff like that.)
It's because the sun beats down on you with a gazillion degrees of heat at the most inopportune time, even when you're not in direct contact with the star. You hear stories of the sun bombarding the area to high temperatures. People feel this firsthand and go, "Hey, it's hot outside. Let's go someplace with shade and air conditioning." And then these people go find shade in the local store and go, "Hey, I'm bored; let's shop for hours and annoy the people who work in this store!"
And then I have to deal with the people who can't stand the heat and have nothing better to do than to trash my store because they think, "Hey, Target's got air conditioning, right? Let's loiter there!" Of course, I get to laugh at them because I'm there wearing like three layers of clothing, going, "This is hot?" And then they whine because we can't control our air conditioning. (Funny thing about that: corporate controls our AC units. Whatever corporate has it set to, we're sure to receive the same. Seeing as how Target Corporation is headquartered at Minnesota...)
Sun, do me a favor: if you're going to crank up the heat, do it so that they're driven someplace else other than the Target I work at.
Encyclopædic Artistry
(Art defines us at times.)
Okay, some of you might be wondering what the hell I'm doing misspelling "encyclopedia" like that. Some of you are wondering what "Encyclopedic Artistry" even means - especially since I'm a fan of making the most extravagant metaphors for the most simplistic of things. And some of you are wondering why I spelled the first "Encyclopædic Artistry" with the "æ" and the second "Encyclopedic Artistry" without one.
If I'm confusing you somewhat, then good.
Truth be told, my work has nothing to do with the encyclopedia, nor does it have to do with flashy metaphors and rippling confusion (though oftentimes, it does anyway)... and it definitely has nothing to do with that squished-up "æ" ligature that's been mostly phased out of (American) English.
Instead, my work deals with life and how it defines you.
...I had some witty explanation and silly ending. for all this, but, uh... now I don't. *shrugs* Whoops.
Who knows: you might get something tomorrow.
Hey, What the Hell is This!?
(Calling me out on a "quality" entry? I'd love to see you try. =P)
So it looks like I pulled today's entry out of my ass. Truth be told: I did. As mentioned before, today's the first of five (known) working days in a row that I'll be dealing with. Normally, I'd just leave you with a very short entry. You know the kind - the less-than-ten-liners that (openly) admit to my laziness and procrastination and at the same time count for an entry for the day. I'd link them, but God knows everyone's seen them far too much.
Of course, seeing as how I challenged myself to make all of September's entries consist of at least a thousand words, I can't do that, so hence this non sequitur entry that forces you to question my insane sanity.
The only thing I can do to counteract a long work schedule isn't to pull off some crazy rush-job like today's entry. Rather, I have to prepare an entry in advance - type out half an entry overnight and finish it after I wake up or something - long before it's posted for the day I intend to post it. Sounds devious and tricky, but hey - I am devious and tricky.
Well, that's it for today. Apologies for something as "lame" as this, but time is short and I have a quota to meet for today before I have no time at work to work on this.
So, until the 'morrow, everyone. Try to stay cool in this weather (assuming you live near where I do, of course).
Today marks the first day of at least five straight working days. Hours are slowly beginning to pick up, which means lots of hours for me... which means losing my day to work. While that's bad for this blog in the sense that I'm restricted on time, it's good for my wallet and finances.
Well, let's get right on with it, shall we?
Sun-Weathered Hatred
(Or: how I dislike the sun and its actions.)
With the weather how it is is in my part of southern California, it's no surprise that I refer to it sometimes as "September's Summer." Sweltering heat at a time when it should be cooling down... weather like this has the potential to throw me out of sync and screw with my sinuses at the same time. Technically, it is still summer (autumn officially begins on the 23rd), but come on... summer decides to kick in and become uncomfortably warm now when schools are back in session and work begins to go on the rise? Geez; we might as well rewind the clock by about a few months and start summer over or something.
I don't know. Maybe it's just me lashing out at the summer weather because I'm not a fan of the season. I know, I know - a Californian who despises the season of sun, swimming and... sweet-ass parties? (I was just trying to use something that kept up the alliteration. Could've been worse... I could've used "sex," "shade" or "sedition" as the random third adjective...) That just doesn't seem all right there, now don't it?
Now, I don't hate the summer because it interferes with the look pasty, indoor-type nerds have. I don't hate the it because I'm a bastard who likes screwing with other people's minds for funsies. I don't hate it because it screws up and gives you a tan that makes you look laughable in a professional setting. I certainly don't hate it because I supposedly can't stand the heat. It's also not because the sun irradiates all of us with alpha, beta and gamma rays. (Let's not get into physics and science; I never was one to enjoy stuff like that.)
It's because the sun beats down on you with a gazillion degrees of heat at the most inopportune time, even when you're not in direct contact with the star. You hear stories of the sun bombarding the area to high temperatures. People feel this firsthand and go, "Hey, it's hot outside. Let's go someplace with shade and air conditioning." And then these people go find shade in the local store and go, "Hey, I'm bored; let's shop for hours and annoy the people who work in this store!"
And then I have to deal with the people who can't stand the heat and have nothing better to do than to trash my store because they think, "Hey, Target's got air conditioning, right? Let's loiter there!" Of course, I get to laugh at them because I'm there wearing like three layers of clothing, going, "This is hot?" And then they whine because we can't control our air conditioning. (Funny thing about that: corporate controls our AC units. Whatever corporate has it set to, we're sure to receive the same. Seeing as how Target Corporation is headquartered at Minnesota...)
Sun, do me a favor: if you're going to crank up the heat, do it so that they're driven someplace else other than the Target I work at.
Encyclopædic Artistry
(Art defines us at times.)
Okay, some of you might be wondering what the hell I'm doing misspelling "encyclopedia" like that. Some of you are wondering what "Encyclopedic Artistry" even means - especially since I'm a fan of making the most extravagant metaphors for the most simplistic of things. And some of you are wondering why I spelled the first "Encyclopædic Artistry" with the "æ" and the second "Encyclopedic Artistry" without one.
If I'm confusing you somewhat, then good.
Truth be told, my work has nothing to do with the encyclopedia, nor does it have to do with flashy metaphors and rippling confusion (though oftentimes, it does anyway)... and it definitely has nothing to do with that squished-up "æ" ligature that's been mostly phased out of (American) English.
Instead, my work deals with life and how it defines you.
...I had some witty explanation and silly ending. for all this, but, uh... now I don't. *shrugs* Whoops.
Who knows: you might get something tomorrow.
Hey, What the Hell is This!?
(Calling me out on a "quality" entry? I'd love to see you try. =P)
So it looks like I pulled today's entry out of my ass. Truth be told: I did. As mentioned before, today's the first of five (known) working days in a row that I'll be dealing with. Normally, I'd just leave you with a very short entry. You know the kind - the less-than-ten-liners that (openly) admit to my laziness and procrastination and at the same time count for an entry for the day. I'd link them, but God knows everyone's seen them far too much.
Of course, seeing as how I challenged myself to make all of September's entries consist of at least a thousand words, I can't do that, so hence this non sequitur entry that forces you to question my insane sanity.
The only thing I can do to counteract a long work schedule isn't to pull off some crazy rush-job like today's entry. Rather, I have to prepare an entry in advance - type out half an entry overnight and finish it after I wake up or something - long before it's posted for the day I intend to post it. Sounds devious and tricky, but hey - I am devious and tricky.
Well, that's it for today. Apologies for something as "lame" as this, but time is short and I have a quota to meet for today before I have no time at work to work on this.
So, until the 'morrow, everyone. Try to stay cool in this weather (assuming you live near where I do, of course).
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The Fall of Rexaria: Recruiting Freedom
Tags:
writing
(Author's Note: Yeah, more writing practice! And to those wondering about chronological order: this is some time after "The Fall of Rexaria: Finding Kurz (Part 1)" - but how much time exactly? I'm not telling you. Ah, well. Enjoy my practice writing and what not. =D)
----------
"What? ME!? You... you want ME in charge!?"
Allisenna Gloucester-Bellitz Novelli, Second Princess of Serecles, looked upon the other five people scattered in the dusty room. Everyone was staring at her with a flat look on their faces.
A woman in white and red military fatigues took a step forward. She took a breath and looked directly at the princess. "That's what we said, Your Highness."
"You're kidding, right?"
Another woman spoke up - a brunette with shoulder-length hair, sitting in a rather dusty recliner. "No, Allie. We're not. The soldiers outside all took a vote, and Rainey and I here - " She gestured at the military woman with her right hand. " - agreed with their choice."
"We voted for you, Your Highness!" Two other soldiers - a young-looking man with a goatee and a slightly-younger man - raised their right hands in support of their decision, smiles plastered on their faces. "We're with you all the way!"
Allie's face blanched somewhat. "I... no. N-no. I... don't believe this." She turned away from the group and put her face in her hands as she let off a shaky breath.
Rainey looked over at the two enthusiastic soldiers. "Peyton, Webster: give us a minute and stand guard outside the door, okay?"
The two men dropped their smiles and arms. As the younger soldier lowered his arm, he began to protest. "But we did, Your Highness! We vo-"
"Outside, Webster. Now."
"Fine, Sergeant." Webster sighed and stood there for a brief moment before turning towards the soldier with the goatee. "Come on, Peyton. Let's go." The two soldiers grabbed their rifles and walked out the door.
No one spoke for a moment. Faint, sporadic gunfire and explosions could be heard outside. A few more seconds of silence passed before someone spoke - the brunette. "Allie... the vote was unanimous. The soldiers outside voted. So did the few civilians we rescued. The rest of us in this room - myself included - voted. The only one who seems to be voting against you is... well, you."
"But I don't know the first thing about leading an infantry company!" The distraught princess spun around and began protesting to the others. "I... I don't know the first thing about being a soldier! Hell, I haven't even gone through any kind of training? Why would you want some greenie like me to bark out orders to experienced veterans like you?"
The last person in the room - a journalist with a camera wearing a green duster - suddenly spoke up. "With all due respect, Your Highness..." he began as he walked to the door. "...you don't really have a choice in the matter, regardless of the vote." He turned the locks and faced the princess. "You're familiar with the Serecles Constitution, right?"
Allie blinked for a second at the camera-wielding man before scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. "Uhm... I can't say that I am. I never was one to enjoy high school government classes." She turned towards the brunette. "Right, Tricia?"
The brunette got up off her seat and chuckled at the princess. "I should know; you copied all my homework assignments for months." Turning towards the journalist, she asked, "And who are you supposed to be?"
Rainey was the first to speak up. "Sub-Lieutenant, This is Mass Communications Specialist Third Class Jeff Alexander. Remember that... 'friend' I called to help cover our escape from Third District? The reservist?"
"Yes..." Tricia looked at Jeff with an arched eyebrow. "...that was you?" She received a curt nod in response. "Well, nice to see the sharpshooter who helped save us. Not a bad shot for a newshound."
The journalist smirked. "Thanks, Sub-Lieutenant. I guess those monthly SRRF drills in the firing range paid off." He turned towards the princess and lowered his head towards. "Apologies for not introducing myself properly, Your Highness." He raised his head and resumed his spiel. "Anyway, there's a particular part you should know about: Article Twenty and the Demilitarization Act of 1907."
The princess simply cocked her head in confusion. "The... what now?"
"Article Twenty: 'Military Reduction and Command Restructure,'" Tricia interjected. She glanced at Jeff before looking at Allie. After taking a deep breath, she explained: "When Sereclellan Congress reduced the military strength of our military, we reorganized how many soldiers we had and how many commanders could give orders and what not. To make up for the lack of command staff, Congress issued a law that makes all members of the Royal Family commanders-in-chief in times of national emergency."
"And seeing as how I'm a Novelli..." Allie nervously gulped.
"Exactly," Jeff said. "Even if they had fair intentions with this vote of theirs, it would only be a show vote. You'd still be running things here whether they wanted you to or not."
Allie shook her head and began pacing around the room. "But what if I ordered someone else to take command for me? Tricia, you're a trained soldier; why don't you take command of the company?"
The brunette held her hands up as if to deny the offer. "Can't do that, Allie."
"Why not?"
"Two reasons." Tricia held out her hand, which had the internationally-recognized symbol for "one" on it. "First: the law's absolute. The only ways you'd be able to give up your command is if you abdicated your birthright..." The brunette took a breath before continuing: "...or if you were incapacitated or killed. There's no other way for you to forfeit your command."
The princess stopped walking around and stared at Tricia in shock, her lip quivering. "A-And second?"
"Secondly..." the brunette continued, her hand now showing "two." "...secondly, I'm your Knight. Even if you were able to transfer your leadership status to me, it would be constitutionally incorrect for me to give you orders. All SRDF personnel are automatically outranked by the Royal Family - Knights included. Besides, if I'm commanding a bunch of soldiers, how am I supposed to guard you?"
Allie slowly took all of this in. She nodded and weakly responded, "...you have a point, Tricia." Losing her balance, she fell backward onto a dusty couch and put her head in her hands, breathing heavily.
"There's a third reason," Jeff interjected. "You have to realize that as a leader of this country, its citizens look up to you for leadership, Your Highness. In a time like this, they'll also look up to you with hope in their hearts. What do you think would happen if they suddenly see you faltering and not willing to stand up for yourself... for your country... for your people? What would happen if a leader failed to lead?"
The princess kept her head buried as she left out a sniffle. Jeff walked to the door and unlocked it. As he did, the sound of an artillery shell flying overhead echoed throughout the room.
"I don't know the answer do that, but I do know one thing," the journalist continued as he looked up and opened the door. As if on cue, the sound of another artillery shell flying overhead was heard. "We'd better get some orders soon before we get killed... Your Highness." The last words sounded as if he spat them out with distaste.
All Allie heard afterwards were the sounds of rushing footsteps - what she assumed were Jeff's. Almost instantaneously the sound of another set of footprints sounded off with Rainey yelling, "Jeff, get back here!" followed by a slamming door.
A moment of silence followed as Tricia walked over and took a seat next to the distraught princess. "Hey, Allie... Allie, you alright?"
A sniffle was the only reply the brunette received.
"Allie, come on. Talk to me."
The princess let off another sniffle before removing her head from her hands. Looking at her Knight, she softly asked, "Am I... am I cut out for this?"
Tricia pulled her crying friend into a comforting hug. Shrugging, she replied, "To be honest: I don't know. I believe in you, but like you said: you don't know the first thing about being a soldier. As much as I'd love to talk with you about this, we don't have the luxury of time. There's only one way to find out if you're 'cut out for this,' Allie."
Another "on-cue" artillery shell flew overhead followed by the sound of a not-so-distant explosion. With that, the brunette released the princess from her hug but kept a firm grip on her shoulders. With a serious look on her face, Tricia took a deep breath and asked: "What are your orders, Your Highness?"
----------
Until the 'morrow, everyone!
----------
"What? ME!? You... you want ME in charge!?"
Allisenna Gloucester-Bellitz Novelli, Second Princess of Serecles, looked upon the other five people scattered in the dusty room. Everyone was staring at her with a flat look on their faces.
A woman in white and red military fatigues took a step forward. She took a breath and looked directly at the princess. "That's what we said, Your Highness."
"You're kidding, right?"
Another woman spoke up - a brunette with shoulder-length hair, sitting in a rather dusty recliner. "No, Allie. We're not. The soldiers outside all took a vote, and Rainey and I here - " She gestured at the military woman with her right hand. " - agreed with their choice."
"We voted for you, Your Highness!" Two other soldiers - a young-looking man with a goatee and a slightly-younger man - raised their right hands in support of their decision, smiles plastered on their faces. "We're with you all the way!"
Allie's face blanched somewhat. "I... no. N-no. I... don't believe this." She turned away from the group and put her face in her hands as she let off a shaky breath.
Rainey looked over at the two enthusiastic soldiers. "Peyton, Webster: give us a minute and stand guard outside the door, okay?"
The two men dropped their smiles and arms. As the younger soldier lowered his arm, he began to protest. "But we did, Your Highness! We vo-"
"Outside, Webster. Now."
"Fine, Sergeant." Webster sighed and stood there for a brief moment before turning towards the soldier with the goatee. "Come on, Peyton. Let's go." The two soldiers grabbed their rifles and walked out the door.
No one spoke for a moment. Faint, sporadic gunfire and explosions could be heard outside. A few more seconds of silence passed before someone spoke - the brunette. "Allie... the vote was unanimous. The soldiers outside voted. So did the few civilians we rescued. The rest of us in this room - myself included - voted. The only one who seems to be voting against you is... well, you."
"But I don't know the first thing about leading an infantry company!" The distraught princess spun around and began protesting to the others. "I... I don't know the first thing about being a soldier! Hell, I haven't even gone through any kind of training? Why would you want some greenie like me to bark out orders to experienced veterans like you?"
The last person in the room - a journalist with a camera wearing a green duster - suddenly spoke up. "With all due respect, Your Highness..." he began as he walked to the door. "...you don't really have a choice in the matter, regardless of the vote." He turned the locks and faced the princess. "You're familiar with the Serecles Constitution, right?"
Allie blinked for a second at the camera-wielding man before scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. "Uhm... I can't say that I am. I never was one to enjoy high school government classes." She turned towards the brunette. "Right, Tricia?"
The brunette got up off her seat and chuckled at the princess. "I should know; you copied all my homework assignments for months." Turning towards the journalist, she asked, "And who are you supposed to be?"
Rainey was the first to speak up. "Sub-Lieutenant, This is Mass Communications Specialist Third Class Jeff Alexander. Remember that... 'friend' I called to help cover our escape from Third District? The reservist?"
"Yes..." Tricia looked at Jeff with an arched eyebrow. "...that was you?" She received a curt nod in response. "Well, nice to see the sharpshooter who helped save us. Not a bad shot for a newshound."
The journalist smirked. "Thanks, Sub-Lieutenant. I guess those monthly SRRF drills in the firing range paid off." He turned towards the princess and lowered his head towards. "Apologies for not introducing myself properly, Your Highness." He raised his head and resumed his spiel. "Anyway, there's a particular part you should know about: Article Twenty and the Demilitarization Act of 1907."
The princess simply cocked her head in confusion. "The... what now?"
"Article Twenty: 'Military Reduction and Command Restructure,'" Tricia interjected. She glanced at Jeff before looking at Allie. After taking a deep breath, she explained: "When Sereclellan Congress reduced the military strength of our military, we reorganized how many soldiers we had and how many commanders could give orders and what not. To make up for the lack of command staff, Congress issued a law that makes all members of the Royal Family commanders-in-chief in times of national emergency."
"And seeing as how I'm a Novelli..." Allie nervously gulped.
"Exactly," Jeff said. "Even if they had fair intentions with this vote of theirs, it would only be a show vote. You'd still be running things here whether they wanted you to or not."
Allie shook her head and began pacing around the room. "But what if I ordered someone else to take command for me? Tricia, you're a trained soldier; why don't you take command of the company?"
The brunette held her hands up as if to deny the offer. "Can't do that, Allie."
"Why not?"
"Two reasons." Tricia held out her hand, which had the internationally-recognized symbol for "one" on it. "First: the law's absolute. The only ways you'd be able to give up your command is if you abdicated your birthright..." The brunette took a breath before continuing: "...or if you were incapacitated or killed. There's no other way for you to forfeit your command."
The princess stopped walking around and stared at Tricia in shock, her lip quivering. "A-And second?"
"Secondly..." the brunette continued, her hand now showing "two." "...secondly, I'm your Knight. Even if you were able to transfer your leadership status to me, it would be constitutionally incorrect for me to give you orders. All SRDF personnel are automatically outranked by the Royal Family - Knights included. Besides, if I'm commanding a bunch of soldiers, how am I supposed to guard you?"
Allie slowly took all of this in. She nodded and weakly responded, "...you have a point, Tricia." Losing her balance, she fell backward onto a dusty couch and put her head in her hands, breathing heavily.
"There's a third reason," Jeff interjected. "You have to realize that as a leader of this country, its citizens look up to you for leadership, Your Highness. In a time like this, they'll also look up to you with hope in their hearts. What do you think would happen if they suddenly see you faltering and not willing to stand up for yourself... for your country... for your people? What would happen if a leader failed to lead?"
The princess kept her head buried as she left out a sniffle. Jeff walked to the door and unlocked it. As he did, the sound of an artillery shell flying overhead echoed throughout the room.
"I don't know the answer do that, but I do know one thing," the journalist continued as he looked up and opened the door. As if on cue, the sound of another artillery shell flying overhead was heard. "We'd better get some orders soon before we get killed... Your Highness." The last words sounded as if he spat them out with distaste.
All Allie heard afterwards were the sounds of rushing footsteps - what she assumed were Jeff's. Almost instantaneously the sound of another set of footprints sounded off with Rainey yelling, "Jeff, get back here!" followed by a slamming door.
A moment of silence followed as Tricia walked over and took a seat next to the distraught princess. "Hey, Allie... Allie, you alright?"
A sniffle was the only reply the brunette received.
"Allie, come on. Talk to me."
The princess let off another sniffle before removing her head from her hands. Looking at her Knight, she softly asked, "Am I... am I cut out for this?"
Tricia pulled her crying friend into a comforting hug. Shrugging, she replied, "To be honest: I don't know. I believe in you, but like you said: you don't know the first thing about being a soldier. As much as I'd love to talk with you about this, we don't have the luxury of time. There's only one way to find out if you're 'cut out for this,' Allie."
Another "on-cue" artillery shell flew overhead followed by the sound of a not-so-distant explosion. With that, the brunette released the princess from her hug but kept a firm grip on her shoulders. With a serious look on her face, Tricia took a deep breath and asked: "What are your orders, Your Highness?"
----------
Until the 'morrow, everyone!
Monday, September 5, 2011
Artillerie!
"Most people use the guns and armor analogy: one side gets a better gun, the other side gets better armor, which inspires a still better gun, and so on. The truth is that a better gun inspires a chemical counterweapon, which inspires a telepathic strike, which then brings about an artificial intelligence guiding the weapon. The pressure of war does bring about growth, but it is never the neat, linear growth that you learn about in the classroom."
- Arcturus Mengsk
(StarCraft: Liberty's Crusade)
Mengsk brings about a point with his quote. Much like jumping the gun in dares (e.g.: going from a "double dare" to a "triple dog dare"), you can't expect any kind of force in warfare to merely counteract something done by their opposition. Sometimes some clever outside-the-box thinking is necessary (and sometimes crucial) in developing a weapon or piece of technology to better yourselves against an adversary.
The guns and armor analogy doesn't just apply to rudimentary warfare or anything involving the military - such principles can also be applied to aspects of daily life. Information security is a prime example - with financial saboteurs and thieves scouring the world for some juicy prize, it's necessary to create something that can't be cut open or be decrypted. In turn, these people develop software that can crack the toughest codes or make a portable water jet cutter. The process goes on and on and on.
Of course, sometimes a group doesn't have the luxury of creating something that can respond to the latest threat they've received. While some will fret and accept defeat, others will instead modify something to the point where they can make their own threat for the opposition to respond to. Once that happens, you get a standoff situation, and in some cases that's all the time you need to create something to tip the scale.
- Arcturus Mengsk
(StarCraft: Liberty's Crusade)
Mengsk brings about a point with his quote. Much like jumping the gun in dares (e.g.: going from a "double dare" to a "triple dog dare"), you can't expect any kind of force in warfare to merely counteract something done by their opposition. Sometimes some clever outside-the-box thinking is necessary (and sometimes crucial) in developing a weapon or piece of technology to better yourselves against an adversary.
The guns and armor analogy doesn't just apply to rudimentary warfare or anything involving the military - such principles can also be applied to aspects of daily life. Information security is a prime example - with financial saboteurs and thieves scouring the world for some juicy prize, it's necessary to create something that can't be cut open or be decrypted. In turn, these people develop software that can crack the toughest codes or make a portable water jet cutter. The process goes on and on and on.
Of course, sometimes a group doesn't have the luxury of creating something that can respond to the latest threat they've received. While some will fret and accept defeat, others will instead modify something to the point where they can make their own threat for the opposition to respond to. Once that happens, you get a standoff situation, and in some cases that's all the time you need to create something to tip the scale.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
The Selection for Societal Sanity
Tags:
Metal Gear,
opinions
Friends of mine who are gamers are very well aware of my love for Konami's famous Metal Gear franchise. One of the first games I was exposed to when I was young was Metal Gear Solid for the Sony Playstation. I think I first played it around the year 2000, back when I was eleven.
Yeah, an eleven-year-old playing a game that's rated "M" for "Mature" - sounds waaaaay responsible of my parents. Honestly, I think I already was mature enough to understand bits and pieces of it. Obviously I wouldn't get the complex plot and everything right then and there, but it was my playthrough of the game that got me to realize a few things that I still believe or support to this day:
When I first finished Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty, I'll admit I was one of the many people who found the plot to be confusing. Well, I'm not sure if "confusing" is the right word - "mental clusterfuck" seems to describe the first general opinion most gamers had when they finished the game. Then again, I was 13 at the time (I obtained the game late in 2002), and for a plot that complex and seemingly convoluted you had to be a bit older and more mature than that to digest it properly. (Or, you know... possess a genius-level IQ or something.)
After a few years passed, I did another playthrough in order to listen to the story again and to see if my high school education (and the important discovery that is Wikipedia) would help me understand the intricacies of Sons of Liberty.
It did. Gravely.
What I found was a social commentary on life and everything that eerily made sense. Granted, the entirety of the Metal Gear saga is a work of fiction, but what happens when a work of imagination clothes itself with the very fabric of reality? What happens when enough fact is meshed into the fiction, blurring the line between what is false and what is true?
(Author's Note: POTENTIAL SPOILER ALERT! If you intend on following the plot of the Metal Gear series (hopefully through me), then I strongly suggest reading the rest of today's entry with caution.)
What follows here is a speech from Metal Gear Solid 2. Raiden, the protagonist of the second half of the game, is contacted by an Illuminati-esque cabal known only as the Patriots. What he listens to is a rather spooky take on modern sociopolitical views. In-game, it's just freaky to notice how badly you've been controlled, but when you apply what they say to real life, it's just bone-chilling in how the world could be like this. Again, I know it's all fiction, but... *shivers*
Here's a snippet of that speech (or as you lamer readers call it, a "wall of text" - even though this is far from the (accurate) definition of "wall of text"), edited to make it flow more like sociopolitical commentary aimed towards you, reader. Apart from anything Raiden said in interjection and the responses the Patriots smacked back at him being removed, no part of the text has been altered.
If you want to listen along or hear the speech yourself (plus the interjections and counters I removed), here it is on YouTube. (WARNING: SPOILERS!)
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To begin with, we're not what you'd call... "human." Over the past two hundred years, a kind of consciousness formed layer by layer in the crucible of the White House. It's not unlike the way life started in the oceans four billion years ago. The White House was our primordial soup, a base of evolution. We are formless. We are the very discipline and morality that Americans invoke so often. How can anyone hope to eliminate us? As long as this nation exists, so will we.
Don't you know that our plans have your interests - not ours - in mind?
The mapping of the human genome was completed early this century. As a result, the evolutionary log of the human race lay open to us. We started with genetic engineering, and in the end, we succeeded in digitizing life itself. But there are things not covered by genetic information.
Human memories, ideas, culture, history - genes don't contain any record of human history. Is it something that should not be passed on? Should that information be left at the mercy of nature? We've always kept records of our lives through words, pictures, symbols - from tablets to books. But not all the information was inherited by later generations. A small percentage of the whole was selected and processed, then passed on. Not unlike genes, really.
That's what history is.
But in the current, digitized world, trivial information is accumulating every second, preserved in all its triteness. Never fading, always accessible. Rumors about petty issues, misinterpretations, slander... all this junk data preserved in an unfiltered state, growing at an alarming rate. It will only slow down social progress, reduce the rate of evolution.
You seem to think that our plan is one of censorship. What we propose to do is not to control content, but to create context. The digital society furthers human flaws and selectively rewards development of convenient half-truths. Just look at the strange juxtapositions of morality around you:
Everyone grows up being told the same thing: "Be nice to other people - but beat out the competition!" "You're special." "Believe in yourself and you will succeed." But it's obvious from the start that only a few can succeed. You exercise your right to "freedom" and this is the result: all rhetoric to avoid conflict and protect each other from hurt.
The untested truths spun by different interests continue to churn and accumulate in the sandbox of political correctness and value systems. Everyone withdraws into their own small gated community, afraid of a larger forum. They stay inside their little ponds, leaking whatever "truth" suits them into the growing cesspool of society at large. The different cardinal truths neither clash nor mesh. No one is invalidated, but nobody is right. Not even natural selection can take place here. The world is being engulfed in "truth." And this is the way the world ends - not with a bang, but a whimper.
We're trying to stop that from happening.
It's our responsibility as rulers. Just as in genetics, unnecessary information and memory must be filtered out to stimulate the evolution of the species. Who else could wade through the sea of garbage you people produce, retrieve valuable truths and even interpret their meaning for later generations?
That's what it means to create context. You lack the qualifications to exercise free will.
Does something like a "self" exist inside of you? That which you call "self" serves as nothing more than a mask to cover your own being. In this era of ready-made "truths," "self" is just something used to preserve those positive emotions that you occasionally feel. Another possibility is that "self" is a concept you conveniently borrowed under the logic that it would endow you with some sense of strength.
Do you feel lost? Why not try a bit of soul-searching? Don't think you'll find anything, though. Ironic that although "self" is something that you yourself fashioned, every time something goes wrong, you turn around and place the blame on something else. "It's not my fault." "It's not your fault." In denial, you simply resort to looking for another, more convenient "truth" in order to make yourself feel better, leaving behind in an instant the so-called "truth" you once embraced.
Should someone like that be able to decide what is "truth?" Should someone like you even have the right to decide? You've done nothing but abuse your freedom. You don't deserve to be free!
We're not the ones smothering the world - you are.
The individual is supposed to be weak, but far from powerless - a single person has the potential to ruin the world. And the age of digitized communication has given even more power to the individual. Too much power for an immature species.
Building a legacy involves figuring out what is wanted and what needs to be done for that goal. All this you used to struggle with. Now, we think for you. We are your guardians after all.
We rule an entire nation - of what interest would a single soldier, no matter how able, be to us?
----------
Again, here's the actual in-game speech in case you want to watch and listen to all of it. And again: spoiler warning if you click it.
Anyway, what caused me to look at this speech with interest right now (as it did back then) is how this particular train of thought looks like sociopolitical commentary from the view of the creator of the Metal Gear franchise, Hideo Kojima. While this is just insight weaved into a game, there are points to everything the Patriots have said. Considering that this game was released just under a decade ago (November 13, 2001 in North America), the fact of the matter is that this game's views (and Kojima's, by extension) surprisingly hold true to what is going on in the world right now.
A worldwide disillusioned sense of truth... the control and censorship of information for personal interests... society believing every spoon-fed bit of "information" they receive... defining right from wrong, purity from corruption, truth from lie... ...and the irony is that the Patriots make it sound like my blog (among others) needs to be filtered off the Internet!
*hearty laugh* What, I'm not allowed to throw in a joke?
Anyway, I'm not saying I believe in some kind of Illuminati controlling the world (much less the United States) or that there is some kind of government conspiracy. (I don't go around wondering if the world really is controlled by a shadow government of some kind.) I'm saying the Patriots noticed the glaring obviousness of human fallacy and corruption that's swept the globe. We lie, cheat, perform tasks in "off-the-books" manners, abuse the system, create our own sense of "truth" and deny anything that doesn't fit the form, create a façade to mask ourselves from fear - and those who deny that they do any of this are full of it. Not far from actual reality, is it?
Again, I heavily stress that this speech is from a work of fiction and my words here are opinions formed on that text. It's just a game, after all. However, that doesn't mean we can learn a little something from it, whether we learn something about ourselves, about our friends and co-workers, about society at large - about anything, really.
I'll admit: what I did for today's entry pretty much looks like something I pulled out of my own ass. At least that's what it looked like.. Originally, I was just going to put up the speech and some commentary in an attempt to break 1,000 words, but I got carried away and ended up putting actual commentary anyway. And guess what? When you take out the speech (which tallied up to 898 words), the total word count comes up to 1,168! HAH!
I have something to request from you, readers. It'd be interesting to see your take on this. Go ahead and leave some commentary - your responses to the speech or the entire conversation. I wonder what kind of insight this might spark.
I'll catch y'all tomorrow. I got work to do tonight. Yay, work. =D
Yeah, an eleven-year-old playing a game that's rated "M" for "Mature" - sounds waaaaay responsible of my parents. Honestly, I think I already was mature enough to understand bits and pieces of it. Obviously I wouldn't get the complex plot and everything right then and there, but it was my playthrough of the game that got me to realize a few things that I still believe or support to this day:
- Nuclear proliferation is horrible. It needs to stop.
- The right kind of music can make any situation stand out even more, fueling the experience with raw emotion that's just unbeatable.
- Video games, when made right, can be more than just entertainment - it can be an art form that spurns intellect and deep thought within the right people.
When I first finished Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty, I'll admit I was one of the many people who found the plot to be confusing. Well, I'm not sure if "confusing" is the right word - "mental clusterfuck" seems to describe the first general opinion most gamers had when they finished the game. Then again, I was 13 at the time (I obtained the game late in 2002), and for a plot that complex and seemingly convoluted you had to be a bit older and more mature than that to digest it properly. (Or, you know... possess a genius-level IQ or something.)
After a few years passed, I did another playthrough in order to listen to the story again and to see if my high school education (and the important discovery that is Wikipedia) would help me understand the intricacies of Sons of Liberty.
It did. Gravely.
What I found was a social commentary on life and everything that eerily made sense. Granted, the entirety of the Metal Gear saga is a work of fiction, but what happens when a work of imagination clothes itself with the very fabric of reality? What happens when enough fact is meshed into the fiction, blurring the line between what is false and what is true?
(Author's Note: POTENTIAL SPOILER ALERT! If you intend on following the plot of the Metal Gear series (hopefully through me), then I strongly suggest reading the rest of today's entry with caution.)
What follows here is a speech from Metal Gear Solid 2. Raiden, the protagonist of the second half of the game, is contacted by an Illuminati-esque cabal known only as the Patriots. What he listens to is a rather spooky take on modern sociopolitical views. In-game, it's just freaky to notice how badly you've been controlled, but when you apply what they say to real life, it's just bone-chilling in how the world could be like this. Again, I know it's all fiction, but... *shivers*
Here's a snippet of that speech (or as you lamer readers call it, a "wall of text" - even though this is far from the (accurate) definition of "wall of text"), edited to make it flow more like sociopolitical commentary aimed towards you, reader. Apart from anything Raiden said in interjection and the responses the Patriots smacked back at him being removed, no part of the text has been altered.
If you want to listen along or hear the speech yourself (plus the interjections and counters I removed), here it is on YouTube. (WARNING: SPOILERS!)
----------
To begin with, we're not what you'd call... "human." Over the past two hundred years, a kind of consciousness formed layer by layer in the crucible of the White House. It's not unlike the way life started in the oceans four billion years ago. The White House was our primordial soup, a base of evolution. We are formless. We are the very discipline and morality that Americans invoke so often. How can anyone hope to eliminate us? As long as this nation exists, so will we.
Don't you know that our plans have your interests - not ours - in mind?
The mapping of the human genome was completed early this century. As a result, the evolutionary log of the human race lay open to us. We started with genetic engineering, and in the end, we succeeded in digitizing life itself. But there are things not covered by genetic information.
Human memories, ideas, culture, history - genes don't contain any record of human history. Is it something that should not be passed on? Should that information be left at the mercy of nature? We've always kept records of our lives through words, pictures, symbols - from tablets to books. But not all the information was inherited by later generations. A small percentage of the whole was selected and processed, then passed on. Not unlike genes, really.
That's what history is.
But in the current, digitized world, trivial information is accumulating every second, preserved in all its triteness. Never fading, always accessible. Rumors about petty issues, misinterpretations, slander... all this junk data preserved in an unfiltered state, growing at an alarming rate. It will only slow down social progress, reduce the rate of evolution.
You seem to think that our plan is one of censorship. What we propose to do is not to control content, but to create context. The digital society furthers human flaws and selectively rewards development of convenient half-truths. Just look at the strange juxtapositions of morality around you:
- Billions spent on new weapons in order to humanely murder other humans.
- Rights of criminals are given more respect than the privacy of their victims.
- Although there are people suffering in poverty, huge donations are made to protect endangered species.
Everyone grows up being told the same thing: "Be nice to other people - but beat out the competition!" "You're special." "Believe in yourself and you will succeed." But it's obvious from the start that only a few can succeed. You exercise your right to "freedom" and this is the result: all rhetoric to avoid conflict and protect each other from hurt.
The untested truths spun by different interests continue to churn and accumulate in the sandbox of political correctness and value systems. Everyone withdraws into their own small gated community, afraid of a larger forum. They stay inside their little ponds, leaking whatever "truth" suits them into the growing cesspool of society at large. The different cardinal truths neither clash nor mesh. No one is invalidated, but nobody is right. Not even natural selection can take place here. The world is being engulfed in "truth." And this is the way the world ends - not with a bang, but a whimper.
We're trying to stop that from happening.
It's our responsibility as rulers. Just as in genetics, unnecessary information and memory must be filtered out to stimulate the evolution of the species. Who else could wade through the sea of garbage you people produce, retrieve valuable truths and even interpret their meaning for later generations?
That's what it means to create context. You lack the qualifications to exercise free will.
Does something like a "self" exist inside of you? That which you call "self" serves as nothing more than a mask to cover your own being. In this era of ready-made "truths," "self" is just something used to preserve those positive emotions that you occasionally feel. Another possibility is that "self" is a concept you conveniently borrowed under the logic that it would endow you with some sense of strength.
Do you feel lost? Why not try a bit of soul-searching? Don't think you'll find anything, though. Ironic that although "self" is something that you yourself fashioned, every time something goes wrong, you turn around and place the blame on something else. "It's not my fault." "It's not your fault." In denial, you simply resort to looking for another, more convenient "truth" in order to make yourself feel better, leaving behind in an instant the so-called "truth" you once embraced.
Should someone like that be able to decide what is "truth?" Should someone like you even have the right to decide? You've done nothing but abuse your freedom. You don't deserve to be free!
We're not the ones smothering the world - you are.
The individual is supposed to be weak, but far from powerless - a single person has the potential to ruin the world. And the age of digitized communication has given even more power to the individual. Too much power for an immature species.
Building a legacy involves figuring out what is wanted and what needs to be done for that goal. All this you used to struggle with. Now, we think for you. We are your guardians after all.
We rule an entire nation - of what interest would a single soldier, no matter how able, be to us?
----------
Again, here's the actual in-game speech in case you want to watch and listen to all of it. And again: spoiler warning if you click it.
Anyway, what caused me to look at this speech with interest right now (as it did back then) is how this particular train of thought looks like sociopolitical commentary from the view of the creator of the Metal Gear franchise, Hideo Kojima. While this is just insight weaved into a game, there are points to everything the Patriots have said. Considering that this game was released just under a decade ago (November 13, 2001 in North America), the fact of the matter is that this game's views (and Kojima's, by extension) surprisingly hold true to what is going on in the world right now.
A worldwide disillusioned sense of truth... the control and censorship of information for personal interests... society believing every spoon-fed bit of "information" they receive... defining right from wrong, purity from corruption, truth from lie... ...and the irony is that the Patriots make it sound like my blog (among others) needs to be filtered off the Internet!
*hearty laugh* What, I'm not allowed to throw in a joke?
Anyway, I'm not saying I believe in some kind of Illuminati controlling the world (much less the United States) or that there is some kind of government conspiracy. (I don't go around wondering if the world really is controlled by a shadow government of some kind.) I'm saying the Patriots noticed the glaring obviousness of human fallacy and corruption that's swept the globe. We lie, cheat, perform tasks in "off-the-books" manners, abuse the system, create our own sense of "truth" and deny anything that doesn't fit the form, create a façade to mask ourselves from fear - and those who deny that they do any of this are full of it. Not far from actual reality, is it?
Again, I heavily stress that this speech is from a work of fiction and my words here are opinions formed on that text. It's just a game, after all. However, that doesn't mean we can learn a little something from it, whether we learn something about ourselves, about our friends and co-workers, about society at large - about anything, really.
I'll admit: what I did for today's entry pretty much looks like something I pulled out of my own ass. At least that's what it looked like.. Originally, I was just going to put up the speech and some commentary in an attempt to break 1,000 words, but I got carried away and ended up putting actual commentary anyway. And guess what? When you take out the speech (which tallied up to 898 words), the total word count comes up to 1,168! HAH!
I have something to request from you, readers. It'd be interesting to see your take on this. Go ahead and leave some commentary - your responses to the speech or the entire conversation. I wonder what kind of insight this might spark.
I'll catch y'all tomorrow. I got work to do tonight. Yay, work. =D
Saturday, September 3, 2011
World Warrior Gym League Profile: Josh Blanco
Tags:
Pokémon
Inspired by a post my friend Matt made on his blog, I figured I'd make my own Pokémon-themed "gym leader profile" of sorts.
Confused? You probably are. A little backstory for y'all before I continue:
Now, obviously I haven't been as active with the Pokémon world in ages - the last entry with a "Pokémon" tag is dated all the way back in April 13. While I've been a dedicated fan and veteran trainer-slash-breeder since the release of Red and Blue, I haven't fiddled around with the world of Black and White as crazily as I did before - on my copy of White Vesrion I've only clocked in at 49:59, which is nothing compared to my infamous copy of Diamond Version which has... oh, about 1600+ hours on it (the gameplay timer stops at 999:59).
There have been a plethora of theories on why I haven't done anything (gamer burnout, too many things on my plate, life, etc.), but I figure one of these days - like, when I finally request a much-needed vacation from work or something - I'll put some time into White and finally defeat the Elite Four. (Yes, I said "finally." I'm outside the eighth gym and I've yet to start it - all because I'm too lazy to train my newly-hatched Axew.)
Anyway, during the heyday of HeartGold and SoulSilver last year, my friend Matt proposed an interesting idea for us dedicated Pokémon trainers: a "World Warrior Gym League." He proposed that eight of us would raise a custom team of Pokémon with a common type, design our own badges and pseudo-themes, and challenge any random person who played into defeating our league.
This was 2010, and naturally, I was more... well, let's just say "negative" about life and disillusioned to all things related to it back then. (Obviously this is all but extinct right now. Yay, me.) I was also considering retirement from the Pokémon world, which - to all my gamer friends - was a big shock. However, Matt kept a reserve slot aside for me and asked for my element should I decide to join the World Warrior ring. I don't remember what types I asked to keep in case, but I know Dark was one of them. (Very fitting for someone like me back then - veryemo depressed emo. *shrugs*)
Of course, knowing how life operates, the World Warrior ring never came to officially be (although some of our friends raised a customized team regardless). However, the idea still sounds interesting, and so I decided to figure out what I would do. It'd be an interesting dive into theorycraft (something I do way too much sometimes), and at the same time I get to associate video games into the equation.
Before we get to the gym and how it'd be, let me introduce the idea for the team I'd breed and train if I were to join the World Warrior Gym League now (listed by order of National Dex Number)...
#196: Umbreon (Dark)
NICKNAME:
Chariselle (female)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
Chariselle, my Blood Elf Paladin in World of Warcraft (US-Ravenholdt - RP-PvP). As I designed her RP backstory to be darker than most generic Blood Elf RPers, it'd make sense to use her name to name one of my Pokémon. That, and since Chari's specced as Protection, it matches Umbreon even more - it is the defensive-statted Eeveelution, after all.
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
I figured I could use practice using a defensive-oriented Pokémon. My usual lineup consists of sweepers and blitzers, so a change-up would be fun indeed.
#229: Houndoom (Dark/Fire)
NICKNAME:
Marine (any gender)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
Members of the United States Marine Corps are sometimes referred to as "devil dogs." Look at Houndoom and I think you'll see how obvious it is from there.
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
Dark-types usually don't have the Special Attack to be a contender. Houndoom are one of the few Dark Pokémon whose Special Attack and Speed make it a viable fighter in an arena.
#359: Absol (Dark)
NICKNAME:
Scout (any gender)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
"You're a scout, too, are you not? Then let us duel with blades."
- Vamp
(Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots)
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
Absol's always been one of my favorite Dark-types. It looks badass, hits like a badass, and has a movepool... of awesome.
#442: Spiritomb (Dark/Ghost)
NICKNAME:
108 (male)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
According to the PokéDex, Spiritomb are formed from the remnants of 108 malevolent spirits. Why not make it sound all creepy and code-like?
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
A general all-around Pokémon with decent stat coverage... but the fact that it possesses no weaknesses makes it a nice contender.
#461: Weavile (Dark/Ice)
NICKNAME:
Banzai (any gender)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
I picture Weavile attacks to look like sword strikes from a Japanese anime - the quick, flashy motions (or rather, the black screen with visible slashes). And it's been been somewhat proven that morale's increased in a charge when yelling a battle cry. What better way to improve morale in Japanese?
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
SPEED. 'Nuff said.
#635: Hydreigon (Dark/Dragon)
NICKNAME:
Steve (male)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
With those two fake-head arm-things, I instantly thought of Yu-Gi-Oh! The Abridged Series and this quote from an "unknown" Rare Hunter:
"We are the elite group known as the Rare Hunters. My name is Steve. These are my associates. They are also called Steve."
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
Dragon-type. Because everybody's gotta have dragons. (Though it's no Dragonite...)
And now... what I'd think my gym would be like!
World Warrior Gym League Profile
Gym Name:
Blackheart Gym - "A Congregation of Shadows"
Leader Name:
Josh Blanco - "The White Knight of Darkness"
Gym Theme - Main Lobby:
*jazzy motifs of video game music*
Actual Gym Theme:
Jason Hayes - "The Undercity (City Theme)"
World of Warcraft Soundtrack
Gym Badge:
Void Badge
Badge Description:
Picture a blue-hued solar eclipse. Simple design, yet effective if made right.
Number of Subordinates:
Four subordinate Gym Trainers, with up to three Dark-type Pokémon.
Gym Layout Notes:
As the Trainer enters, there will be a small entry plaza in which cool refreshments will be given to those who ask. Tables and chairs are placed so that challengers and spectators alike can relax before and after the battle, seating 20 maximum. On the left side is a door that leads to a room in which a large window allows spectators to view the fights (however many there will be) in style and comfort. Plush seats and air conditioning will maintain a happy atmosphere barring the sting of defeat. A door on the right of the front courtyard leads to an area without the confines of walls. No walls and no windows offer the ultimate experience in watching Blackheart Gym battles.
(Author's Note: Sorry, Matt - I had to use this. I agree wholeheartedly - spectators should have a blast... though I'm not sure if they'll be able to see anything... lol)
Trainers wishing to challenge the gym go directly to the back and take a double-door elevator that takes them below ground. At this point the fanfare portion of "The Undercity" will play (0:00-0:28), fading out once the elevator comes to a stop. As the elevator's rear doors open, all the Trainer can see is a dimly-lit room with a faint cool blue hue. As the Trainer walks around and attempts to navigate through the room, they'll eventually bump into a Gym Trainer, armed with up to three Dark-type Pokémon.
Should the Trainer prove to be victorious, a faint trail of blue lights will suddenly appear at their feet, pointing their way to a door which leads to another dimly-lit room with a faint cool blue hue and repeat the process. The Trainer will go through a total of four rooms before finding an elevator at the end of the fourth room, which leads to the Grand Chamber.
As the Trainer enters each room, an announcement is made through the PA system by the Gym Leader (me), with somewhat-cryptic messages for the trainer.
Room #1: "Those wishing to attain victory from the Blackheart Gym must first overcome the darkness within."
Room #2: "Throughout history darkness has been a constant. Much like gravity, it is a law that exists - even though we cannot see it."
Room #3: "Darkness exists all around us. It's not just a mere Pokémon type - it's an element of everyday life that most people attempt to hide from.
Room #4: "Accept the existence of darkness. Accept your darkness. This is a fate that you can never defy..."
Final Room Layout:
The elevator's second door will open, revealing to the Trainer a dimly-lit room - what appears to be a massive arena. They will walk around and eventually realize that nobody is present. As they head back to the elevator by which they came in, the door will be sealed shut and two spotlights will flash on without warning. The first will be aimed at the Trainer, while the second shines on a raised platform across from the entrance, where the Gym Leader (me) will be standing...
Gym Leader Introductory Theme:
Koutarou Nakagawa - "The Master"
Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion R2 Original Soundtrack Volume 1
Gym Leader Introduction:
"Citizen of the world, welcome to the Blackheart Gym arena! It's been a while since I've seen a fresh face in this part - many people have come before you and succumbed to the shadows. So far it appears to be that the darkness failed to consume you, Trainer - but don't you dare think this trial is over yet. I am Josh Blanco, the White Knight, and as you've probably guessed I am the one in charge of Blackheart Gym. I know - ironic for me, a self-purported warrior of light to run something so dark - but you'll soon learn that even masters of justice have a hidden darkness within their souls. Only those with a pure heart can learn how to purify themselves from it, but only the strongest of them can manipulate this endless void to their will. The question is, Trainer: do you know how to control the darkness inside yourself?"
Battle Theme:
Shouji Meguro - "I'll Face Myself (Battle)"
Persona 4 Original Soundtrack
First Pokémon KO'ed:
"Well... certainly wasn't expecting that."
Third Pokémon KO'ed:
"This is certainly getting interesting."
One Pokémon Left:
"End it."
Gym Leader Defeated:
"...well, I think you answered my question quite well. Nicely done."
Trainer Defeated:
"Well, that answers my question. Come back when you're done lying about yourself."
Trainer Victory Theme:
Keiki Kobayashi - "New Emblem"
Ace Combat 5: The Unsung War Original Soundtrack
Post-Trainer Victory Speech:
"You... you are no ordinary Trainer. I can sense that about you. They say that darkness always gives way to the light, and you, (sir/ma'am)... you're a vassal of light. I therefore congratulate you and offer you this Void Badge. It shows that you and your Pokémon have overcome whatever darkness that has been plaguing your hearts. Now go, and conquer the void wherever it may challenge you!"
Well, that's it for today. I'll catch y'all tomorrow!
Confused? You probably are. A little backstory for y'all before I continue:
Now, obviously I haven't been as active with the Pokémon world in ages - the last entry with a "Pokémon" tag is dated all the way back in April 13. While I've been a dedicated fan and veteran trainer-slash-breeder since the release of Red and Blue, I haven't fiddled around with the world of Black and White as crazily as I did before - on my copy of White Vesrion I've only clocked in at 49:59, which is nothing compared to my infamous copy of Diamond Version which has... oh, about 1600+ hours on it (the gameplay timer stops at 999:59).
There have been a plethora of theories on why I haven't done anything (gamer burnout, too many things on my plate, life, etc.), but I figure one of these days - like, when I finally request a much-needed vacation from work or something - I'll put some time into White and finally defeat the Elite Four. (Yes, I said "finally." I'm outside the eighth gym and I've yet to start it - all because I'm too lazy to train my newly-hatched Axew.)
Anyway, during the heyday of HeartGold and SoulSilver last year, my friend Matt proposed an interesting idea for us dedicated Pokémon trainers: a "World Warrior Gym League." He proposed that eight of us would raise a custom team of Pokémon with a common type, design our own badges and pseudo-themes, and challenge any random person who played into defeating our league.
This was 2010, and naturally, I was more... well, let's just say "negative" about life and disillusioned to all things related to it back then. (Obviously this is all but extinct right now. Yay, me.) I was also considering retirement from the Pokémon world, which - to all my gamer friends - was a big shock. However, Matt kept a reserve slot aside for me and asked for my element should I decide to join the World Warrior ring. I don't remember what types I asked to keep in case, but I know Dark was one of them. (Very fitting for someone like me back then - very
Of course, knowing how life operates, the World Warrior ring never came to officially be (although some of our friends raised a customized team regardless). However, the idea still sounds interesting, and so I decided to figure out what I would do. It'd be an interesting dive into theorycraft (something I do way too much sometimes), and at the same time I get to associate video games into the equation.
Before we get to the gym and how it'd be, let me introduce the idea for the team I'd breed and train if I were to join the World Warrior Gym League now (listed by order of National Dex Number)...
#196: Umbreon (Dark)
NICKNAME:
Chariselle (female)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
Chariselle, my Blood Elf Paladin in World of Warcraft (US-Ravenholdt - RP-PvP). As I designed her RP backstory to be darker than most generic Blood Elf RPers, it'd make sense to use her name to name one of my Pokémon. That, and since Chari's specced as Protection, it matches Umbreon even more - it is the defensive-statted Eeveelution, after all.
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
I figured I could use practice using a defensive-oriented Pokémon. My usual lineup consists of sweepers and blitzers, so a change-up would be fun indeed.
#229: Houndoom (Dark/Fire)
NICKNAME:
Marine (any gender)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
Members of the United States Marine Corps are sometimes referred to as "devil dogs." Look at Houndoom and I think you'll see how obvious it is from there.
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
Dark-types usually don't have the Special Attack to be a contender. Houndoom are one of the few Dark Pokémon whose Special Attack and Speed make it a viable fighter in an arena.
#359: Absol (Dark)
NICKNAME:
Scout (any gender)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
"You're a scout, too, are you not? Then let us duel with blades."
- Vamp
(Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots)
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
Absol's always been one of my favorite Dark-types. It looks badass, hits like a badass, and has a movepool... of awesome.
#442: Spiritomb (Dark/Ghost)
NICKNAME:
108 (male)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
According to the PokéDex, Spiritomb are formed from the remnants of 108 malevolent spirits. Why not make it sound all creepy and code-like?
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
A general all-around Pokémon with decent stat coverage... but the fact that it possesses no weaknesses makes it a nice contender.
#461: Weavile (Dark/Ice)
NICKNAME:
Banzai (any gender)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
I picture Weavile attacks to look like sword strikes from a Japanese anime - the quick, flashy motions (or rather, the black screen with visible slashes). And it's been been somewhat proven that morale's increased in a charge when yelling a battle cry. What better way to improve morale in Japanese?
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
SPEED. 'Nuff said.
#635: Hydreigon (Dark/Dragon)
NICKNAME:
Steve (male)
NICKNAME ORIGIN:
With those two fake-head arm-things, I instantly thought of Yu-Gi-Oh! The Abridged Series and this quote from an "unknown" Rare Hunter:
"We are the elite group known as the Rare Hunters. My name is Steve. These are my associates. They are also called Steve."
WHY I CHOSE THIS POKÉMON:
Dragon-type. Because everybody's gotta have dragons. (Though it's no Dragonite...)
And now... what I'd think my gym would be like!
World Warrior Gym League Profile
Gym Name:
Blackheart Gym - "A Congregation of Shadows"
Leader Name:
Josh Blanco - "The White Knight of Darkness"
Gym Theme - Main Lobby:
*jazzy motifs of video game music*
Actual Gym Theme:
Jason Hayes - "The Undercity (City Theme)"
World of Warcraft Soundtrack
Gym Badge:
Void Badge
Badge Description:
Picture a blue-hued solar eclipse. Simple design, yet effective if made right.
Number of Subordinates:
Four subordinate Gym Trainers, with up to three Dark-type Pokémon.
Gym Layout Notes:
As the Trainer enters, there will be a small entry plaza in which cool refreshments will be given to those who ask. Tables and chairs are placed so that challengers and spectators alike can relax before and after the battle, seating 20 maximum. On the left side is a door that leads to a room in which a large window allows spectators to view the fights (however many there will be) in style and comfort. Plush seats and air conditioning will maintain a happy atmosphere barring the sting of defeat. A door on the right of the front courtyard leads to an area without the confines of walls. No walls and no windows offer the ultimate experience in watching Blackheart Gym battles.
(Author's Note: Sorry, Matt - I had to use this. I agree wholeheartedly - spectators should have a blast... though I'm not sure if they'll be able to see anything... lol)
Trainers wishing to challenge the gym go directly to the back and take a double-door elevator that takes them below ground. At this point the fanfare portion of "The Undercity" will play (0:00-0:28), fading out once the elevator comes to a stop. As the elevator's rear doors open, all the Trainer can see is a dimly-lit room with a faint cool blue hue. As the Trainer walks around and attempts to navigate through the room, they'll eventually bump into a Gym Trainer, armed with up to three Dark-type Pokémon.
Should the Trainer prove to be victorious, a faint trail of blue lights will suddenly appear at their feet, pointing their way to a door which leads to another dimly-lit room with a faint cool blue hue and repeat the process. The Trainer will go through a total of four rooms before finding an elevator at the end of the fourth room, which leads to the Grand Chamber.
As the Trainer enters each room, an announcement is made through the PA system by the Gym Leader (me), with somewhat-cryptic messages for the trainer.
Room #1: "Those wishing to attain victory from the Blackheart Gym must first overcome the darkness within."
Room #2: "Throughout history darkness has been a constant. Much like gravity, it is a law that exists - even though we cannot see it."
Room #3: "Darkness exists all around us. It's not just a mere Pokémon type - it's an element of everyday life that most people attempt to hide from.
Room #4: "Accept the existence of darkness. Accept your darkness. This is a fate that you can never defy..."
Final Room Layout:
The elevator's second door will open, revealing to the Trainer a dimly-lit room - what appears to be a massive arena. They will walk around and eventually realize that nobody is present. As they head back to the elevator by which they came in, the door will be sealed shut and two spotlights will flash on without warning. The first will be aimed at the Trainer, while the second shines on a raised platform across from the entrance, where the Gym Leader (me) will be standing...
Gym Leader Introductory Theme:
Koutarou Nakagawa - "The Master"
Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion R2 Original Soundtrack Volume 1
Gym Leader Introduction:
"Citizen of the world, welcome to the Blackheart Gym arena! It's been a while since I've seen a fresh face in this part - many people have come before you and succumbed to the shadows. So far it appears to be that the darkness failed to consume you, Trainer - but don't you dare think this trial is over yet. I am Josh Blanco, the White Knight, and as you've probably guessed I am the one in charge of Blackheart Gym. I know - ironic for me, a self-purported warrior of light to run something so dark - but you'll soon learn that even masters of justice have a hidden darkness within their souls. Only those with a pure heart can learn how to purify themselves from it, but only the strongest of them can manipulate this endless void to their will. The question is, Trainer: do you know how to control the darkness inside yourself?"
Battle Theme:
Shouji Meguro - "I'll Face Myself (Battle)"
Persona 4 Original Soundtrack
First Pokémon KO'ed:
"Well... certainly wasn't expecting that."
Third Pokémon KO'ed:
"This is certainly getting interesting."
One Pokémon Left:
"End it."
Gym Leader Defeated:
"...well, I think you answered my question quite well. Nicely done."
Trainer Defeated:
"Well, that answers my question. Come back when you're done lying about yourself."
Trainer Victory Theme:
Keiki Kobayashi - "New Emblem"
Ace Combat 5: The Unsung War Original Soundtrack
Post-Trainer Victory Speech:
"You... you are no ordinary Trainer. I can sense that about you. They say that darkness always gives way to the light, and you, (sir/ma'am)... you're a vassal of light. I therefore congratulate you and offer you this Void Badge. It shows that you and your Pokémon have overcome whatever darkness that has been plaguing your hearts. Now go, and conquer the void wherever it may challenge you!"
Well, that's it for today. I'll catch y'all tomorrow!
Friday, September 2, 2011
The Fall of Rexaria: Finding Kurz (Part 1)
Tags:
writing
(Author's Note: I got bored as I was looking at my stuff, so... I came up with a little literary something. Been a while since I've written anything like this, so apologies if this seems... rusty. Anyway, enjoy!)
----------
The general order to retreat wasn't one the soldiers of Serecles wanted to follow.
For one, it greatly disorganized any ground force. Even the most battle-hardened warrior finds themselves disheveled when such an issue is ordered. The higher the amount of retreating personnel, the more chaotic it was. And with more chaos, more lives could be lost than if an organized withdrawal were to occur.
Secondly, a retreating order was usually issued out of panic. Some dumb junior officer witnesses his defensive line being broken by the enemy. They notices that their flanks are also beginning to fold, and suddenly it looks like all is lost. The inept officer gives their men a "fall back" order, and more inept officers follow suit. Meanwhile some staff or general officer watches all this unfold and sullenly realizes that the battle is lost.
Thirdly, the order to retreat cost more than just lives. It cost weapons... ammunition... supplies such as food and survival equipment. It may also be more than a materiel loss -depending on the position the soldiers were abandoning, they could also lose the high ground, a military base or even a fortified city with civilians still inside.
The front-line soldiers knew all this. They knew what they were up against and what the potential sacrifices would be. The soldiers knew they were the last thing standing between the country and people they loved so much and the enemies that wanted to rout them and their ways of life. They accepted these responsibilities - these duties - with great courage and strength. And so they hunkered down in the city and fortified as best they could.
Yet the general order to retreat was issued to the soldiers of Serecles anyway. No one quite understood the absurdity of the order. It wasn't just any ordinary order to retreat - it was a full-blown command issued to the entirety of the Serecles Royal Defense Force. It wasn't just any ordinary city they were abandoning to the enemy, either. It was the Sereclellan capital city of Rexaria.
By nightfall, the last of the Serecles Royal Defense Force withdrew from the outskirts of Rexaria... and with that, the Royal Republic of Serecles fell into the hands of the enemy.
----------
"What's going on out there? Why are there people with guns?" a small boy asked.
The adults in the room looked at each other, unsure on how to respond as sporadic gunfire and bursting shells exploded outside. Where exactly were the Serecles Royal Defense Force going, if not here defending their capital city?
Before the inhabitants were able to dwell on that any further, the reinforced door burst aside, sending a cloud of dust and rubble throughout the room and causing a ruckus amongst the people inside. As the pollution cleared and the panic subsided, the cause of the breaking door was revealed - a panting man in a white combat uniform... a Sereclellan soldier. The adults stepped up, wondering what was going on.
"The SRDF's issued an all-out retreat," the soldier began as he slung his rifle behind him and dropped his gear. "The Cremisians broke through the outer wall in force and they're razing the Business District. Intelligence stated that they'll break the defensive lines in Capitol Block and Royal Square and then pour through south Rexaria within the hour. You need to evacuate."
A flurry of panicked questions bombarded the fatigued soldier. "What?" "What do you mean?" "How'd the Cremsians get this far into Serecles?" "I thought they were only at the border!" "Where are we going?"
Out of the crowd of confused civilians, a brunette woman stepped out and stood in front of the soldier. "What about the government? And the Royal Family?"
The soldier grabbed his canteen and took a swig. "Capitol Block is being evacuated as we speak. Last I heard, though, Royal Square got hit hard by artillery. No word yet if His Majesty and his family got out yet.
A sullen silence fell across the room.
"They're... they're really abandoning Rexaria?" a voice timidly squeaked out. It belonged to a bespectacled businessman who had fear in his eyes.
A sigh escaped the soldier's lips as he looked at the businessman. "It looks like it. I don't know what High Command is thinking, but... at the same time I don't think they were expecting this many Cremisians to storm Rexaria." He took another breath.
"Okay," the brunette woman said with a nod. "Then get us out of here, soldier."
The trooper's next words seemed almost hesitant. "...I'm sorry, but that's not why I'm here."
"What?"
"Serecles National Bank - Fifth Branch. I need to know where that is."
"For what?"
"SNB's standard protocol for emergencies is to lock the bank down and have anyone inside rush to the emergency bunker they have in the basement. I'm on a mission to break through that bunker and extract a, uh... a V.I.P."
"Westward. Go about two blocks west and then head north on Dauchman Avenue."
"Thanks."
"What about us?"
The soldier blinked. "Uhm... you're not my mission. The V.I.P. is. Sorry."
"Oh, and the lives of ten civilians and one small boy aren't important enough?" Everyone turned to the bespectacled businessman, who now seemed a bit annoyed. "What, soldier: you just going to break into their vault since it's so convenient and take the money?"
A bemused laugh escaped the soldier's lips. "No, actually. Like I said, I'm extracting someone." He took one last swig from his canteen and grabbed his gear. "The rest of my platoon will be here shortly to get you all to safety. I'd recommend getting any supplies in order."
As he stepped out the doorway, the brunette shouted a calm-yet-fearful "Wait!" He turned around and faced the group as the brunette stepped forward. "Who exactly is more important than us, and why do they get to be saved first?"
A smirk crept up the man's lips as he unslung the rifle on his back. "Patricia Kurz." And with that, he took off towards the west.
The small crowd slowly stared in silence and then began to hastily grab anything they could, murmuring throughout about the person of more (supposed) importance.
"Patricia Kurz? Isn't she...?"
"Lady Kurz, one of the Serecles Imperial Guard?"
"And not just any Imperial Guard... she's a Royal Knight."
"A Royal Knight?"
"Yeah, you know - the selected individuals tasked with the personal protection of the Royal Family?"
"Really?"
"Yeah... which begs to ask: if they think she's over at SNB Five, who's defending the rest of the Royal Family?"
----------
The general order to retreat wasn't one the soldiers of Serecles wanted to follow.
For one, it greatly disorganized any ground force. Even the most battle-hardened warrior finds themselves disheveled when such an issue is ordered. The higher the amount of retreating personnel, the more chaotic it was. And with more chaos, more lives could be lost than if an organized withdrawal were to occur.
Secondly, a retreating order was usually issued out of panic. Some dumb junior officer witnesses his defensive line being broken by the enemy. They notices that their flanks are also beginning to fold, and suddenly it looks like all is lost. The inept officer gives their men a "fall back" order, and more inept officers follow suit. Meanwhile some staff or general officer watches all this unfold and sullenly realizes that the battle is lost.
Thirdly, the order to retreat cost more than just lives. It cost weapons... ammunition... supplies such as food and survival equipment. It may also be more than a materiel loss -depending on the position the soldiers were abandoning, they could also lose the high ground, a military base or even a fortified city with civilians still inside.
The front-line soldiers knew all this. They knew what they were up against and what the potential sacrifices would be. The soldiers knew they were the last thing standing between the country and people they loved so much and the enemies that wanted to rout them and their ways of life. They accepted these responsibilities - these duties - with great courage and strength. And so they hunkered down in the city and fortified as best they could.
Yet the general order to retreat was issued to the soldiers of Serecles anyway. No one quite understood the absurdity of the order. It wasn't just any ordinary order to retreat - it was a full-blown command issued to the entirety of the Serecles Royal Defense Force. It wasn't just any ordinary city they were abandoning to the enemy, either. It was the Sereclellan capital city of Rexaria.
By nightfall, the last of the Serecles Royal Defense Force withdrew from the outskirts of Rexaria... and with that, the Royal Republic of Serecles fell into the hands of the enemy.
----------
"What's going on out there? Why are there people with guns?" a small boy asked.
The adults in the room looked at each other, unsure on how to respond as sporadic gunfire and bursting shells exploded outside. Where exactly were the Serecles Royal Defense Force going, if not here defending their capital city?
Before the inhabitants were able to dwell on that any further, the reinforced door burst aside, sending a cloud of dust and rubble throughout the room and causing a ruckus amongst the people inside. As the pollution cleared and the panic subsided, the cause of the breaking door was revealed - a panting man in a white combat uniform... a Sereclellan soldier. The adults stepped up, wondering what was going on.
"The SRDF's issued an all-out retreat," the soldier began as he slung his rifle behind him and dropped his gear. "The Cremisians broke through the outer wall in force and they're razing the Business District. Intelligence stated that they'll break the defensive lines in Capitol Block and Royal Square and then pour through south Rexaria within the hour. You need to evacuate."
A flurry of panicked questions bombarded the fatigued soldier. "What?" "What do you mean?" "How'd the Cremsians get this far into Serecles?" "I thought they were only at the border!" "Where are we going?"
Out of the crowd of confused civilians, a brunette woman stepped out and stood in front of the soldier. "What about the government? And the Royal Family?"
The soldier grabbed his canteen and took a swig. "Capitol Block is being evacuated as we speak. Last I heard, though, Royal Square got hit hard by artillery. No word yet if His Majesty and his family got out yet.
A sullen silence fell across the room.
"They're... they're really abandoning Rexaria?" a voice timidly squeaked out. It belonged to a bespectacled businessman who had fear in his eyes.
A sigh escaped the soldier's lips as he looked at the businessman. "It looks like it. I don't know what High Command is thinking, but... at the same time I don't think they were expecting this many Cremisians to storm Rexaria." He took another breath.
"Okay," the brunette woman said with a nod. "Then get us out of here, soldier."
The trooper's next words seemed almost hesitant. "...I'm sorry, but that's not why I'm here."
"What?"
"Serecles National Bank - Fifth Branch. I need to know where that is."
"For what?"
"SNB's standard protocol for emergencies is to lock the bank down and have anyone inside rush to the emergency bunker they have in the basement. I'm on a mission to break through that bunker and extract a, uh... a V.I.P."
"Westward. Go about two blocks west and then head north on Dauchman Avenue."
"Thanks."
"What about us?"
The soldier blinked. "Uhm... you're not my mission. The V.I.P. is. Sorry."
"Oh, and the lives of ten civilians and one small boy aren't important enough?" Everyone turned to the bespectacled businessman, who now seemed a bit annoyed. "What, soldier: you just going to break into their vault since it's so convenient and take the money?"
A bemused laugh escaped the soldier's lips. "No, actually. Like I said, I'm extracting someone." He took one last swig from his canteen and grabbed his gear. "The rest of my platoon will be here shortly to get you all to safety. I'd recommend getting any supplies in order."
As he stepped out the doorway, the brunette shouted a calm-yet-fearful "Wait!" He turned around and faced the group as the brunette stepped forward. "Who exactly is more important than us, and why do they get to be saved first?"
A smirk crept up the man's lips as he unslung the rifle on his back. "Patricia Kurz." And with that, he took off towards the west.
The small crowd slowly stared in silence and then began to hastily grab anything they could, murmuring throughout about the person of more (supposed) importance.
"Patricia Kurz? Isn't she...?"
"Lady Kurz, one of the Serecles Imperial Guard?"
"And not just any Imperial Guard... she's a Royal Knight."
"A Royal Knight?"
"Yeah, you know - the selected individuals tasked with the personal protection of the Royal Family?"
"Really?"
"Yeah... which begs to ask: if they think she's over at SNB Five, who's defending the rest of the Royal Family?"
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Downloading Diorama
Good evening, everybody, and welcome to the first entry of the last trimester of 2011!
Now, as mentioned before, all the entries I post for September (including this one) will contain at least 1,000 words (barring footnotes and all pre-blog things). While that will definitely look like a mouthful of random sputterings and potential dorky-babble, it'll all count in the end.
*rubs hands together* Okay; here we go!
Now, as mentioned before, all the entries I post for September (including this one) will contain at least 1,000 words (barring footnotes and all pre-blog things). While that will definitely look like a mouthful of random sputterings and potential dorky-babble, it'll all count in the end.
*rubs hands together* Okay; here we go!
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