Exteel

Found a new game in its closed beta phase. It's surprising me so far, given its general fluidity. And there's always the bonus of fast-paced robot explosions. Find it here. And sign up! Especially if your name starts with 'M' or 'C' and ends with 'aikeru' or 'hirap.'

The only thing that bugs me so far, besides the almost constant Western-server lag, is the mandated lock on; one doesn't shoot projectiles, per se, but rather gets a lock in one's reticle and presses the fire button/s. Meaning even if the pixels animated from one's gun goes through the mecha avatar of another, damage isn't done. For example, I would use rifles as a primary weapon set--their primary use is medium to longer ranges, and will not lock onto targets close range. If a target was point-blank and I fired, no damage is noted despite my volley passing directly through and hitting the ground. Same concept with (most?) cannons; even if a subject were to pass through or be in direct radius of an explosion, no damage would be given unless it were directly targeted. Helps with the lag, I suppose, but it's a substantial learning curve.



User-created gameplay movie.

Other than that, things have been pretty slow. My back is unbearable most days, making computer use and baby-tossing difficult. Added with the estranged lag whose source I can't pinpoint, Final Fantasy XI has been entirely unplayable. The urge to help people burns us, Precious.

On the subject of burning, I got burned pretty bad the other day. The nights have been mostly restless, limited to a small amount of sleep. Around noon, I took a nap under the knowledge that the antique store I want to get a gift from closes at six o'clock on Saturdays (would have been the day before, but didn't have enough money on me at the time and only got a present for the in-law). Slept a little late, but still had time to drive down to Wal-Mart for a new video card for Kissa. They didn't have what I needed, so I went to the antique shop about twenty minutes before he closed. I guess being closed on Christmas eve and Christmas itself wasn't enough for him, he had closed early.

Which is something I don't understand. If I had been working a regular job, I would have just now gotten the opportunity to drive by his store and give him money. But no, Oklahomans can't count past six. And the sad thing is, he was complaining about having to close his store earlier because business wasn't good enough. I can't fathom why.

Well, fine. I can still get a video card from Staples and be alright. Not anywhere near as cool as what I wanted, but it works. Getting there, I notice they moved the cards. Again. The customer service is determined to never leave one alone for more than a minute, though, and I get pointed in the right direction. There's even a nice rebate on the exact card I wanted to get for her, but the shelf is empty. Creative is still overcharging their sound cards, and I should be boycotting them anyway for not calling back when they said they would--despite my calling and their ad still being in the paper a month after the fact. So that, too, is out of the question.

So, to Hastings. Kissa had suggested a book she wanted from Marion Zimmer Bradley when I got there, and the small bit I read seemed pretty good. But that would mean she knew each and every single present I was getting for her. I paced for a good half hour before stumbling on the damn near perfect (and the 'fuck it, she's getting this and she'll like it') solution. She was a little tipsy 'n promised me she would use it without knowing what 'it' was, so I'll give the account of how that goes later.

Should be fun getting her to sing karaoke.

Mousie.

I caughts me a mousie.

It started with Chirap and me discussing Final Fantasy XII, lounging in my mushroom chair to nurse my back with laptop nearby and PS2 controller in hand. Needing a drink, I went into the kitchen to rinse out my cup. 'N sawed him. He was clambering through the sink filled with dishes, and I splashed at his tail thinking he would run off. The poor guy was actually washed towards the drain. Being cold, it was pretty obvious I hadn't done good. He couldn't even jump out of the sink. After clearing the dishes out, I nudged him into this (without him putting up any slight struggle).

It took a surprisingly long time for such a tiny guy--thumb comparison for scale--to dry adequately, even after a bit of drying off with paper towels (finally got a reaction that time). Set up a ventilation bit with the vent, though, and he was energetic after finally warming up. He eventually wanted out, so I took him across the street and let him go. Thankfully it wasn't too cold.

Silly mousie.


This is pretty neat, too:

Balls. Balls!

There was a time, whence younger selves grazed the plains, that I was told television--sitcoms and family shows, specifically--were slowly poisoning us. Not in the conventional sense, as the generation itself was more or less a shuffling mass of inconsistence. Rather, it was in reference to the 'half hour conundrum,' wherein Generation Y would observe Leave it to Beaver-esque problems in half-hour formats. The problem was far from emulation of a 1930's black-and-white cardboard cutout; television had to be more relatable for its audience, but the problems would still start at the first minute and would be resolved at the end of thirty minutes regardless.

I'm getting that feeling all over again with Scrubs. It's far from shallow; there's still the underlying difficulty of being a doctor, the moral decisions and long-term friendships and various sorts of jazz.

This is usually the part where I decide what I'm thinking is retarded and I'd never want to read it, so I hold backspace for a while and stare blankly. Then, instead, I'll think of somthing awkwardly amusing to me, and end up erasing it even faster. Eventually, one twentieth of what I type makes the Intrawebs.

But Scrubs. It attempts to give that all-too-familiar 'everything is alright' ending part of the time, but thankfully returns to the reality that sometimes--a lot of the time--not everything is alright. I'd heard that differing doctors had said it was one of the most realistic medical shows available, as far as the emotions go. It doesn't exactly seem implausible.

Penn and Teller did an interesting bit on People for Ethical Treatment of Animals, or your friendly neighborhood PETA. It's difficult to watch unbiased at first (and definitely to be avoided in a work setting, given the swearing), but part of being liberal is being open-minded. I'm starting to see similarities to a cult more than a non-profit organization dedicated to killing animals so they don't get killed.

Doug Elfman, columnist for the Chicago-Sun Times, had an interesting piece to say on the mayor of Las Vegas, who attempted to get the video game Rainbow Six: Las Vegas banned for depicting terrorists in fictional casinos. To quote the mayor:

…(the game) could be harmful economically, and it may be something that’s not entitled to free speech (protection)… I will ask… whether or not we can stop it.

Elfman's response?

Politics is silly. Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman acted in “Casino,” which depicted murdering mobsters in Vegas… But he thinks a video game set in Vegas is bad for business?

When I lived in Vegas, I liked Goodman because he’s a character. He served as guest photographer for Playboy. He endorsed a brand of alcohol while in office. He used to be a lawyer for defendants in organized crime cases…

For the zillionth time, listen up, you politicians who dismiss video gamers as a bunch of voteless 12-year-olds:

The average age of gamers is 33… Think about your legacy. Someday, history will judge quotes by Goodman and other anti-game crusaders as parallels to anti-movie people of the early 20th century who said films were the downfall of civilization…

I’d bet if the hotels and the city got money from the game, it would be catching less grief.

Congratulations, mayor… You gave a little marketing aid to a slightly disappointing shooting game.