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johnny_cairo sup

Title: Belated Alphabetolympics Entry
Posted: November 29, 2008 (11:31 PM)
I've been an Alphabetolympian ever since Alphabetolympiad I, where I got "V" and managed to write a coherent review of some ROM I played for about 15 minutes.

Getting "Y" for the second year in a row was a little disheartening, but I actually found a game, played the crap out of it, and then ran out of time to finish the damn review. This might be a blessing because the review was turning into a combination FAQ/horrible fanfictiony thing. Since you guys don't care for that experimental garbage, this is the only place to post the unfinished piece.

Yie Ar Kung Fu (Arcade)


The 37th Chamber of Sho'Ting

Not many horrible games end up inventing entire viable genres, but this Konami quarter muncher may or may not have intentionally invented the modern fighting game, years before Ken and Ryu were but a naughty thought originating in their mother's pineal gland. Yie Ar Kung Fu is a forgotten pioneer in video game history. Back in 1985, Super Mario Brothers represented the absolute state of the art with its colorful, detailed graphics, unique universe, insidiously catchy soundtrack, etc. No more explanation is needed because SMB knew exactly what it was and exactly how to present itself. However, there is this curiosity put out by Konami in the same year, with gameplay mechanics never before gazed upon by glassy-eyed patrons in an arcade. Five unique, highly skilled enemies, as opposed to hordes of faceless drones, would stand on the way of greenhorn martial artist Lee on his path to enlightenment. Wear down your foes' endurance with a total of three devastating attacks, but be sure to stay on your toes. Avoid missing for high score. This concept was so new that Yie Ar Kung Fu had no genre fellows to compare to, and in the dark pre-World Warrior period, the concept of different playable characters pretty much meant a choice between a blue mullet or a yellow mullet.

Suffice to say your only choice is a creepy looking ginger named Lee with blue button eyes, wearing nothing save for a pair of puffy punk MC Hammer pants for maximum airflow during combat. Sure, his appearance may be a bit off-putting, but his mastery of kung fu, coming from his years spent at a neighboring Shaolin Temple, silences any who dare to compare him to the proverbial red-headed stepchild. While he never advanced beyond the first chamber, he nonetheless studied the superior techniques of his peers as he scooped his meals off the cobblestones with aching, calloused hands. After years of washing dishes night after night, his wisened sifu decides that the Shaolin Ginger Dog is ready for a test of another sort, which will test the very foundations of his being (or at least make you spend a quarter or two).

All of Lee's duels will occur in the same rectangular room inside the Shaolin Temple, where six pink windows are arranged symmetrically on opposing sides of a huge hanging gong. There are two sets of useless but very pretty hanging green ornamental lamps hanging abreast of a huge wooden plaque, upon which hangs the ceremonial gong. On the plaque are inscribed two grand (Mandarin) Chinese characters with flowing, masterly calligraphy, perhaps representing "purity of spirit" and "rigidity of structure" or somesuch shit. As the first Master sets forth upon Lee without so much as an intro or even a cursory countdown, you will not be contemplating much beyond "how do I preserve my fragile hide without the luxury of blocking?"

The answer presents itself as soon as Wang, the first Master, advances upon you with wooden bo staff at the ready. Lee's much less agile than this hulking, mustachioed spandex-wearing warrior who could very well be a cousin to the Iron Sheik, and to make matters worse, Wang is completely willing to spam the same attack endlessly. More so if you happen to be pinned against the huge red columns on either edge of the screen. The trials and tribulations of Yie Ar Kung Fu would be unbearable if not for Lee's extraordinary longjump. Traverse the entire screen in a mere 1.5 jumps! Since the two solid red pillars on the left and right borders seem to be made of rubber, Lee will rebound with the same trajectory as a basketball off a backboard. If you dare to kick while in the air, you will discover Lee's only useful attack, and the one that will net you a whopping 300 points on contact with an enemy!

Yet, in a serious miscalculation on Konami's part, a limp-wristed jab to the belly will do as much damage as a flying kick to the jaw.

..............

and that's where I lost interest (and time).
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Title: this just in
Posted: September 23, 2007 (06:19 AM)
Some new releases in the world of music. Most you've probably never heard of.

!!! - Myth Takes
Innately danceable tunes, but the album runs out of steam halfway through. I like the vocals even if the lyrics are pretty much empty nonsense. Title track is the lone standout, which is kind of sad. 6/10

Acid Mothers Temple & Melting Paraiso UFO - Crystal Rainbow Pyramid Under the Stars
It took me almost as long to write the title as it did to listen to "Pussy Head Man From Outer Space", the first track. It's crazy acid rock guitar shredding pretty much from 10 seconds in, with the usual spacey distortion and enough noise to tear a hole in the time-space continuum. The other two tracks are epic hypnotic excursions in sonic experimentation, totaling an hour. On the plus side it doesn't sound like it's been recorded underwater like most of AMT's albums. I'd imagine the home experience differs greatly from seeing them live. 8/10

AMT&MPUFO - Nam Myo Ho Ren Ge Kyo
These fuckers are prolific. This CD is one gigantic 65-minute 9-part suite encompassing pretty much all of AMT's styles, from introspective acoustic work to dynafiltered vocals to all-out sonic assault. It never once does not sound lovely in its twisted way, and it ends with a jocular a capella breakdown to boot. Non converts may wish to start here. 10/10

The Bad Trips - s/t
Unclassifiable, vaguely in the realm of post-rock. Kind of reminds me of the No-Neck Blues Band but with actual arrangement and a lo-fi haze over the proceedings. First track, "War on Drugs", is menacing and trippy in equal amounts. Group is still struggling to find a cohesive sound but this is a promising debut. 7/10

Coffins/Otesanek SPLIT
First three tracks belong to my second favorite Japanese sludge doom group. Unlike Corrupted, Coffins manages to stay active and release a crazy amount of collaborative work. "Evil Infection" is a brilliant fakeout; starts off sludgelike but then the tempo doubles and before you know it your ass is being served to you. And it's awesome. A rerecording of "Only Corpse" (my Xbox Live SN) also manages to improve on the prior version. "Acid Orgy" is so-so. Otesanek's sole track, an endurance test of a 20 minute atmospheric doom track, only works in fits and starts. 5/10

Drudkh - Estrangement
A natural evolution from "Blood in Our Wells". Three 10-minute tracks form a suite of sorts; arrangement continues to improve as the sound oscillates between melancholia and brutality. A very black and brief instrumental caps things off nicely. 9/10

Engineer - The Dregs
Aptly titled. Sounds like Queens of the Stone Age but with more angst and volume and half the guitar skill. That's not a compliment as I can't stand QOTSA for even five minutes. 2/10

Gallhammer - Ill Innocence
Slow black metal. Sometimes an effective atmosphere is achieved, as in "Ripper in the Gloom", and that's only when this band is ballsy enough to push the tempo past 90 BPM. Slowness isn't necessarily bad but the tracks seem to waver between boring and "this could be awesome if..." 4/10

Jesu - Conqueror
These guys haven't changed their sound a whole lot. Unlike most groups, they achieve success more often with their longer, more sprawling tracks. Vaguely like Pelican with vocals. The Japanese version of the CD contains "Sunrise" and "Sunset", two epic tracks that redeem five or six mediocre and unmemorable cuts. 7/10 (JP version)
5/10 (US version)

Moonsorrow - V:Havitetty
I hope I spelled the CD title right. If not, I doubt anyone would care. This consists of two extended slabs of viking death, two fine slow buildups to something approaching greatness. Moonsorrow's greatest strength is definitely in their arrangements. There's some great, intense peaks and valleys of sound. Might try the patience of a virgin listener. 8/10

Witchcraft - The Alchemist
The first half of this CD is schizophrenic weirdness (and not intentional weirdness). Like Franz Ferdinand meets Black Sabbath with the worst qualities of each. Suddenly, halfway through, these Swedes finally hit their groove with "Hey Doctor" and achieve a unique sound. The slower the time signature, the beefier the material. Ends with a 3-part suite which could either be pretentious or the ultimate summation of their sound. The damndest thing is I can't decide which. 7/10
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Title: Cormac McCarthy reviews Galaga
Posted: September 05, 2007 (05:30 AM)
The conjoined doubleship radiates a white halo from the coupled grouping of steel and plasma. A white halo of radiation emitting from the metaphorical siamese twins.

Start Round, said the commander in his enthroned chamber into the chrome microphone.

The innumerous flunkies outside obeyed the commanders every whim. This was no exception.

The watchman espied the bug ships flying in their indecipherable formations unchangable as the single space season black as pitch and dotted with innumerous celestial bodies as holes in this canvas peeking out into an impossibly bright alternate universe of pure aether. The formations were simple geometric patterns easily broken apart by the ship's sole gunner and the maltreated fire button becoming increasingly worn after thousands of frenzied presses the red O-ring bleeds its color into the cabinet itself.

Two possibly even three sounds. The gamer does not adjust himself accordingly to the mono system and as the bugs begin to disintegrate amongst the neverending barrage of laser beams their fortitude strengthens itself tenfold. Gamers resistance wearing down like limestone sheets under a ceaseless torrential downpour.

A burst pocket of air combusting in the uncompromising vacuum. Not a sound but a concussion. All occupants flushed out before theyre aware of their situation with the vacuum rendering them raisinlike in less time than it took to shoot a concentrated laser stream. All crewmen flushed out and compacted in split seconds with there being no ceasefire for the bugships and their haphazardly slung arrows.

Three lives over in less time than one. Nothing left but an empty feeling of old joy and old superiority turned over to dubious bugships. Must have more quarters but cannot acquire any more from the old laundryman and mother is long since deceased. Laundry tossed in an endless circle until buzzer announces its foldingtime. Must find coins. All I see in the rainswept gutter is old copper long since discarded in favor of silver pieces.

In the morning the colored fellow awakes at the corner store. Mayhaps he will allow change for a 100 note but this is doubtful. Perhaps store credit will allow for extended Galaga play but do not depend on this uncertainty. The life of the doubleship is less than half a human life to be played out as you will.

EDIT: Removed almost all commas.
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Title: More Epic Stupidity
Posted: July 26, 2007 (03:02 AM)
This contains 20 glorious seconds and a whole lot of horrible acting and directing and special effects. I do like the part with the car though.

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Title: "mature content" on Cartoon Network?
Posted: July 16, 2007 (03:18 AM)
I caught half an hour of Adult Swim tonight after peeling myself away from the Genesis for a while.

First was the dramatic season finale of "Saul of the Mole Men", a show which I previously only saw two minutes of, got irritated, and changed the channel. I was also stoned at the time. That's pretty fucking bad when even 420 cannot convince me that something is amusing, not even in a "compellingly awful" way.

This ep was even more impossible to follow. Saul in his blue jumpsuit teams up with Fallopia, a mutant mole girl, a Muppet-esque ordinary mole man and something looking like a cross between Birdman and a giant crab. They turn a pyramid into a spaceship and Saul uses his DNA to burrow into a rock behemoth who is really two human rock-zombies merged into one monstrosity. He severs a ventricle in the beast's heart with the edge of his shovel, and his girlfriend jumps up and down in slow motion. That was the only part I enjoyed.

Then he met a bisexual professor with a gun and they flew off and the fucking show just ended without a resolution. Ugh. The only "mature" thing I saw was comical spurts of blood, and only adults can enjoy something like that, right?


Next was the finale of "Moral Orel", a show that managed to grow on me like a callous on my big toe. While alone in the woods, hunting with his dad, wimpy Christian kid Orel watches horrified as his dad downs bottle after bottle of scotch and turns into a decidedly non-Christian asshole.

The kid has a revolver and almost shoots his father in rage but misses and shatters Dad's two remaining bottles of scotch. Coincidentally that's the only thing he's shot during the hunting trip. Dad retaliates by blasting his own son in the kneecap, then downing all the rubbing alcohol in their first-aid kit. He passes out and Orel, bleeding to death, barely has enough strength to defend his comatose dad against a hungry grizzly bear.

Eighteen hours later, Dad wakes up and demands to know whether Orel mustered up the strength to kill the bear. "No, dad, you shot it," says the kid, pale with bags under his eyes. They drive home, Dad quite chipper and his son wracked with guilt and frustration and some extreme blood loss.

Recuperating in bed, Orel asks why alcohol turns people into assholes. "It doesn't always work like that, sweetie," Mom says. "It just makes people show their true nature." She leaves; Orel eats his crackers while contemplating the abject horror that is his life.

It ends with a dedication to John Cassavetes. Appropriately, in my opinion.

Both these shows are intended for "mature audiences". One is completely juvenile and the other was quite sobering and only funny in a horrifying way. It was totally not what I was expecting to see in this programming block.


A few more recent releases:

Boris + Michio Kurihara - "Rainbow": If this album wasn't mixed so haphazardly I would probably award it a 10. As it is, Boris' contributions are fuzzed out and always confined into the background, while Kurihara's guitar is at times absurdly loud. All the tracks are great in their own respective ways, but all share the distinction of having the fucking loud lead guitar. Not even Hendrix drowned out the rest of his Experience. 9/10

Pelican - "City of Echoes": I hate Pelican because they peaked with their debut self-titled EP album and have contentedly worn themselves into a creative rut. Each successive album beomes less harsh and experimental and more "indie" sounding. This one is by far the most boring, only the title track has any hint of the hard-edged stoner Pelican of yore. A shame. 4/10

Grizzly Bear - "Yellow House": Self-consciously quirky indie stuff. I say stuff because it's not quite rock, not quite emo, not quite psychadelia, not quite anything good. Just a lot of layered sounds blending together to create a fuzzy conglomeration of ... "stuff". All the vocals are similar, none of the tracks memorable. Represents all the worst traits of the Pitchfork scene. 3/10
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Title: musiques
Posted: July 04, 2007 (03:40 AM)
here are some more recent releases floating around my hard drive.

Behemoth - "The Apostasy": Mainly the same old frenetic guitars underlining Inferno's spastic drumming and Nergal's gravel-gargling vocals. Sometimes it sounds exactly like their last two albums, but some tracks such as "Inner Sanctum" are pretty fucking weird. It's so avant-garde, Nergal sounds more like the guy from Kraftwerk with spoken lyrics and there's even a piano in the background. Ugh. 6/10

Coffins - "The Other Side of Blasphemy": By the same twisted Japanese power trio behind Dot[.], so you know it's got plenty of chugging riffs and indecipherable vocals, only now their songs are about death and impending apocalypse instead of smoking copious amounts of weed. Has probably the greatest cover artwork of all time which gives it a generous point boost. 8/10

Ghostface Killah - "Fishscale": A giant leap forward from the post-"Supreme Clientele" doldrums, to say nothing of the elaborate story Tony Starks has written around himself smuggling "ten pounds of raw fishscale" from Colombia. Some rhymes are simply breathtaking, epic tales of skullduggery and busta-blasting such as "Shakey Dog", or hilarious such as the "Bad Mouth Kid" skit. Lots of fellow Killah Beez and guests (including Notorious BIG) contribute on over half of the tracks here, but don't take the focus away from Ghostface. 9/10

ICP - "The Tempest": After taking a nearly decade-long hiatus from anything clown related, I saw this on the rack at one of the only music stores left in my town, scoffed, then went home and downloaded it. The first track "The Sky is Falling", starts off with a pretty awesome atmospheric noise bit but then J and Shaggy come in, and it's on a constant downhill grade like the titular rollercoaster. Way too much repetition of unoriginal phrases, and when that gets old there's always sex with the elderly to rap about. 2/10

Sigh - "Hangman's Hymn": Holy crap. After the sporadically great experimental "Imaginary Sonicscape", I was unprepared for this fucking crazy sonic assault. My balls were rocked off and I couldn't find them for a couple days. The synthesized keyboard parts are now perfectly integrated into the blistering shredding; instead of "wtf?" genre shifts everything's right there from the beginning in this glorious stew. Lots of thematic repetition and necromancy. 9/10
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Title: Film Review: BIG MONEY HU$TLA$
Posted: June 18, 2007 (04:30 AM)
The Insane Clown Posse gets a bad rap because their music appeals to people who are just beginning to discover the joys of saying the "F-Word", or are otherwise stuck in that phase for one reason or another. Most of their music is fairly uninspiring "extreme" rap with graphic lyrics about subjects such as fornicating with obese women and slaying humans with hatchets. Their fans, known as juggalos, wear the same black and white face makeup as the two wikkit clowns comprising ICP -- Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope. And so it was, 10 million juggalos made this miraculous film possible. Against all odds these two ultra-crazy clowns have produced a masterpiece of irreverence.

After emerging from the underground with a string of ever greater successes (including the Platinum selling The Great Milenko) , the time was ripe for ICP's silver screen debut at the dawn of the new millenium. Despite having funds perhaps equal to the catering budget of Spider-Man 3, the result is infinitely more entertaining (and inspiring) than that overproduced piece of Hollywood fluff.

Crime lord Big Baby Sweets (Violent J) controls every illicit activity in New York City, holding a sort of dark council in his spacious quarters, overseen by his wigger lieutenants, Big Stank and Lil' Poot (Twiztid). In the first five minutes following his intro, Sweets uses his personal ninja, Hack Benjamin (Jump Steady), to dispatch two of his closest associates with a 12-gauge, including a well-known celebrity who was on What's Happenin!!

Having established Sweets' ruthlessness, it's now clear there's only one cop wikkit enough to take him down: super-hip soul clown Sugarbear (Shaggy 2 Dope). Assigned by police chief Johnny Brennan to hit the streets with rookie Officer Harry Cox (Harland Williams), the two hit the local Donut Hut and soon run into a Glock-toting robber dressed as a gorilla. Sugar disposes of the threat in such a classically awesome fashion, I had to pause the DVD for a good while to catch my breath afterwards. Because I laughed. A lot.

Sugarbear also speaks in rhyming couplets, too. Sampling a jelly donut after foiling the robbery, he spits to the cashier, "Y'know, this'd taste a whole lot better/ if you wadn't gettin' robbed for ya cheddar."

Cheddar, of course, being cash money, and that's a big problem for Big Baby Sweets, who can tolerate anything except having his cheddar fucked with. Thus, he swears a solemn vow of vengeance which begins a terrible cycle of violence and retribution ... unbeknownst to Sugar.

The pleasures of seducing fat strippers with cheese pizza and Faygo prove to be hilarious, and the unending thrill of intercourse is artfully represented by novice director John Cafiero. A fat loving girlfriend, a frosty bottle of Faygo in hand; what more could an insane clown need? Nothing. Unfortunately, ninjas are summoned through the black magicks to violently shatter this idyll.

After seeing his girl hacked to pieces before his eyes, Sugar quits the force in disgust and turns to the bottle and the glass dick. Meanwhile, Sweets is rollicking in his newfound influx of cash, so on top of the world that he even freely breaks through the fourth wall of his own film. (In a neat bit of meta-commentary, Violent J even wrote the screenplay under his human psuedonym Joseph Bruce. He's the only character who "knows" how to break the fourth wall, incidentally)

The situation is resolved through deliberate usage of the deus ex machina device in certain cases, obvious to the point of parody, if that was not the intent all along. Officer Harry Cox appears to have been kidnapped, but it might possibly be part of a more elaborate plan. The villain in BMH is truly always ahead of the competition, always a viable threat. There is also palpable suspense throughout the film, as to when the two leads will finally encounter each other, much like the duelling acting giants in Heat. Hu$tla$ might actually be better than Heat in a number of ways: it tells a similar story in half the time, plus it's a hell of a lot funnier. Sorry, Michael Mann. (as if Michael Mann might be reading this)

Sugar trains himself back to perfection in a day, arrests Sweets' whole gang, doesn't even break a sweat. Big Stank and Lil'Poot get thrown in the interrogation room with the chief (they bitch out), and Sweets and Sugar are in the other room. Finally! The two clowns have so much fucking energy when they're together onscreen it's intense. The camera can't even stay still! The intensity is undermined a little by the crosscutting between the two groups. Perhaps it was to prevent the viewer from being overwhelmed.



Anyway, the finale is a true mind-bender. I guarantee none of you will see the twist coming. It has nothing to do with Violent J and Shaggy being twins seperated at birth (although that would have been cool). Had they had the budget, the final gunfight would have put the one in The Killer to shame, but that might have to wait for the sequel.

I can't wait for it.

BIG MONEY RU$TLA$ COMING IN 2008!
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Title: musicas nuevas
Posted: May 23, 2007 (06:03 AM)
Arsis - United in Regret: Not a whole lot of improvement or advancement from their two previous albums. Then again, they perfected their hard-edged sound early on. Full of lovely semi-melodic tracks such as "Lust Before the Maggots Conquest". - 8/10

Funeral - From These Wounds: Most of Funeral's original lineup is now deceased or despoiling greener pastures. For their latest effort, some female vocalists have been brought in; as a result it sounds a lot more like Evanescence than anything else. Certainly light years away from their early 90s sound. Only a handful of decent material. - 5/10


Watain - Sworn to the Dark: Completely awesome Swedish black metal with actual production values. If you aren't into BM this certainly won't convert you. Tracks like "Satan's Hunger" will melt your face with raw power and necromancy. The few bland ambient tracks are necessary but still weak. -9/10


Wormphlegm - Tomb of the Ancient King: Stunning epic doom. Three tracks averaging 20 minutes or so apiece form a breathtaking whole. The vocals and volume are harsh to the extreme, so non-initiates beware. It sounds like a concert broadcast directly from the bowels of Hell. Naturally I love it. -10/10

Avril Lavigne - The Best Damn Thing: Obnoxious bubblegum pop. More thoughts of suicide listening to "Girlfriend" than my entire doom collection. 1/10

Title: Epejumalat Monet Tesse Muinen Palveltin Lauran Ja Lesse
Posted: May 05, 2007 (05:18 AM)
Finally finished my MOTO review, which was just another project, among many, involving ninjas either literally or metaphorically. I still can't figure out how to focus and stick to a writing regimen, or stop thinking about ninjas. Oh well, at least it got finished, unlike the expansive MGS2 review -- three years in the making -- still sitting in "My Documents"...

In other news, my awesome boss has been sacked and replaced with a crazy androgynous number-cruncher from our Pearl City store. She's driving me insane and in turn I'm taking 10 times as many smoke breaks as I used to. God damn it.
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Title: Eight and 3/4 months later
Posted: February 23, 2007 (02:06 AM)
Never fear, dear reader(s), I always come back after a while. Real life took priority over gaming (and reviewing by extension), so no, this time was not spent simply writing a Steven Seagal spec script.

Santa Claus gave me an XBox 360 last December. An honest-to-Christ Christmas miracle! I have been indulging in and beating some of the finest the system has to offer:

Dead Rising
Burnout Revenge
Call of Duty 2
" " " 3
Splinter Cell: Double Agent
Dead or Alive 4
Gears of War (orgasmic!)
Civil War: A Nation Divided (execrable!)

Which of the above should I review first?
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Title: I WORKED WITH A PAEDOPHILE
Posted: May 01, 2006 (04:10 AM)
My job attracts its fair share of meth addicts, ex-cons, what have you. We care so much about customer service we will hire indiscriminately.

One of these people was a man named Herbert, or as he called himself, "Herbie". A quiet, vaguely turtle-looking man, he kept to himself when he wasn't talking about Disney movies or how Batman had no actual ninja training. He was a Mormon who went to BYU on the north shore of Oahu in the fine state of Hawaii. Sometimes he'd try to convert people or pass out free Books of Mormon to anyone who'd lend him an ear. He didn't do too well.

I didn't mind working with him much, as he had the most insanely in-depth knowledge of superhero origins I've ever seen, and every once in a while we'd have actual conversation about normal things. But then sometimes he'd talk sweetly to prepubescent girls in just the right tone to set off all kinds of alarms.

My co-workers and I reached a quick consensus: Herbie was a child molestor. It all added up: him asking for our "Ice Princess" cardboard standee, watching "Sky High" 12 times, bragging about being chaste by choice.

A couple weeks ago he disappeared from work. Nobody really noticed. Yesterday I got this fine bit of news.

http://starbulletin.com/2006/04/28/news/story01.html

That creepy fuck in the picture? That's old Herbie. That grin on his face? Concrete proof of his guilt. Maddox said it best.

I don't feel like writing reviews for a while. My efforts are focused on this screenplay I'm writing as Steven Seagal's comeback vehicle. It's gonna rock hard.
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Title: Hither and thither
Posted: March 04, 2006 (04:06 AM)
I've had to deal with a lot of assholes today. First in the administration offices at school, then at work, and on the bus. Long story short, I've gotta pay for school out of pocket, I'm going to quit this fucking job within the next couple of days, and my March bus pass isn't valid without going through some Byzantine validation process.

At least I got a nice surprise when I got home. I couldn't think of a better reason to get stoned.
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Title: HERE BE TREASURE!
Posted: February 26, 2006 (03:54 AM)
There's a motley crew working at GameStop. When I walked in, empty handed, I was asked no less than three times by as many people whether I had anything to trade in. I was going to pull the copy of Divine Sealing I keep in my ass for occasions like these, but I decided against it.

The first person was your garden variety hipster but his hairstyle was uniquely retarded - all the hair in front was amalgamated into a kind of inverted triangle shape over his forehead. Then the rest of his hair was slicked back with what had to be axle grease. It kind of looked like he was wearing some kind of helmet.

The next, no less than 30 seconds later, looked like my kindergarten teacher. Only 500 pounds heavier. And she could have either been Asian or squinting really hard at me. I'm surprised she was mobile, actually.

And then a man with a ZZ Top beard and an eyepatch -- a fucking eyepatch -- asked me if I had anything to trade in. His breath reeked of whiskey and chew tobacco. Apparently he worked there. Being the wiseass, asked him not to keelhaul me. He laughed and said he got that a lot.

I grabbed a used Dino Crisis 2 and promptly left. That game is ridiculously fun. Possibly the last great PSX game (implying there were other great PSX games, but I digress here).

Also, why do my favorite bands have to be so fucking weird?

The band's sole recording, Dead As Dreams, barely even came out, as the original plan had been to only release one copy of the album and give it to a teenager in Europe. (There were also plans to bury copies of the album and then give customers maps so that they could attempt to find and dig up the album for themselves.)

Now THAT'S more "indie" than an army of Professor Kibagami's Sufjan Stevens clones.
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Title: The second cheesiest metal band ever.
Posted: February 17, 2006 (06:55 PM)
At last I've found the nerdiest metal that isn't Nightwish.

Bal-Sagoth has it all: corny keyboard riffs straight out of a SNES game; dark, brooding voiceovers of Tolkien-lite epic proclamations (you'll see); mad guitar crunching; schizo vocals which alternate between snarling screeches and booming computer-assisted profundo bass.

Oh yeah, I would have written the full title of this track at the bottom but it DOESN'T FIT. It will scroll at the bottom (which takes about two minutes)

They barely surpass Dragonforce in sheer dorkiness, but Dragonforce has wicked awesome guitar players.

Find it here, bitches.

Manly Firefox users can save mp3 through Page Info and all that shite.
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Title: woot woot
Posted: February 13, 2006 (06:50 PM)
It's my birthday today.

I now have enough alcohol to fuel a Delta House frat party, and no, I'm not going to share.
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