So I have to come up with something that I can use as an internet handle that I didn't blatantly rip from a prominent author's work...

And I'm coming up blank.

In other news, the beginning of the end was announced today (or sometime in the recent past) over at Tor. The first installment of the final chapters of Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series was announced...

It's one of three.

Again.

I sense that the Shade of Jordan is grinning to himself somewhere. His evil plan has worked.

I had forgotten how utterly AMAZING it is to wake up in a clean room, under sheets that still hold the shape of the bed because you made them the morning before. The bliss as you roll over with absolutely no stress about cleaning, even though there's still some left to do, is something I don't think I want to let go of any time soon.

I am SO glad I found time to clean my apartment. And I am SO happy with the way it's turned out. Still some left to do, but it's really mostly decorating and finding frames for some of the pictures I have.

Squee.

This is kind of instigated by Moody's fairly concise summation of the flaws of Mirror's Edge (which I really only take one exception with). I know most of you guys probably dismiss my opinion on games out of hand, simply because I rarely agree with you. Keep in mind before I go into this, however, that I royally suck at combat game; racing games and I don't really get along; first person shooters (which this can be sometimes) are right out in my book; I get motion sickness very easily; and I have not finished this game (which means that you can take everything I say with a grain of salt, cause I may change my mind).

That being said, I absolutely love Mirror's Edge.

The first thing that grabbed me was, I'll admit it readily, how pretty it is. It's atypical right off the bat among games these days in that the soundtrack is very mellow while the game involves these very punky characters. The intro movie really grabbed me the first time I saw it, and the opening cinematic of the first mission takes my breath away every time I watch it. It's not just the sliding text (which is very cool, in its simplicity), but also the way which breathing is integrated into the running, the way the increased reflexes (or whatever that slow-time trick is) are demonstrated in that last jump. The rush of wind as she tunes everything out, and the flood of noise as she lets it slip back in. You can feel how the character loves what she does. It's some pretty subtle character development, and it put me completely in the mood to fall in love with what she does, too.

Well, okay, perhaps I'm romanticizing it a bit much, but I DID like it.

The jumping can take a bit to get used to, but the great thing that I've noticed is that there is no one way to get through any stage. I mean, yeah, occasionally, you'll HAVE to go this way and you'll NEED to make that jump, but for the most part, it's extremely free flowing. Again, the first mission (also known as the Prologue) demonstrates this: do you want to vault onto the roof of a building, which may save you a few extra seconds, or do you want to barrel through and take the fence? Jumping fences is inordinately fun, by the way. You can either run straight up to them and then basically run up them, and pull yourself over, or you can leap from a bit away, and they're just like a really tall hurdle. That pipe that's just kinda hanging out around waist level: do you want to slide under it, or vault over it? Left or right? Up or down? OH THE CHOICES!!! This is really shown by the time trials for the tutorial stage: there are at LEAST three different orientations of markers. And I'm not sure how many paths that makes. I know that I've improved on the tutorial path at least a little bit. Yeah, making some of the jumps kinda sucks, but for the most part, leaping from buildings just leaves you with this vague sense of empowerment and sticking-it-to-the-man. Which is now a noun. Deal with it.

Anyways, jumping is great, but what about the combat? Well, I suck at it. However, the disarming moves are, well, kick ass (imagine Cartman saying that for the full effect). This is where the realism kind of comes into play, as there is (as Moody pointed out) no HUD. No sense of "hit points" in the traditional sense. However, I have not found yet that I needed a HUD. Yeah, maps are great, but if they don't show you the next jump to take, what's the point? If they do, they take the fun out of it. As for the whole "hit point" problem, they solve it nicely. Your vision is affected by how many hits you take. Just for a reference on how hardy the character is, however, please keep in mind that she can roughly take THREE SHOTGUN BLASTS before being taken down. And about four punches (incongruency, anyone?) But just before you pass out, your vision bleeds the color out. It's a really handy way to tell when to get the fuck out of the blast range. This regenerates, because you also take damage from longish "falls" (if you don't remember to roll at the end of jumps), and that can happen a lot. Bright colors = okay to go, no color = ohshitohshitohshitohshit (in the words of... Donut?).

All in all, I'm impressed. Again, you guys will probably dismiss this, and I have really reached the point where I just don't care.

From Hayrey: The Big Read estimates that the average adult has only read 6 of the following books on their Top 100 list.

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you started but did not finish.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) Reprint this list in your own LJ so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them.
5) Hayley's addition: Strike out the ones you hated



( list!!! )

And so many on that list that I WANT to read... :( Time, stop please.

So the second one reads like a fanfic of the first. At least they only take an evening to read.

Good for young readers. NOT young "adult."

Millions of people are retarded.

I may be one of the only hormone-driven young(ish) women who is utterly annoyed while reading Twilight. Seriously, after all the hype, I was expecting something good, not something that reads like a Mary Sue fanfic.

Although, my reading of it this morning did have positive results. I realized that the sentence "I'm reading about a vampire in the bathtub" is completely ambiguous. But I may be the only person who thinks that, as not many people thought a vampire lived in their bathtub when they were younger.

Watched the debate. Whooboy, that was fun. I just with they had spent as much time actually talking about what they were going to do as jabbing at each other, although Obama seemed to get tired of it toward the end, and slacked off a bit. McCain kept punching, though. Which, if anyone watched CNN, did him more harm than good. But both candidates came out thinking that they won, although McCain's camp's version of things was a little funny. They're saying Obama wants to increase taxes for most of Americans? Unless he's outright lying to us, that's not true, as he said during the debate that he was going to cut them for 95% of the population.

Also: anyone else giggle at the idea of a "League of Democracies"? Hasn't that been done before? A couple times? And we don't listen to the one we're in now! Okay, so it's not a league of democracies, but it's even better, because it doesn't discriminate, damnit.

In other news: Palin is sticking to her guns about the idea that she's "experienced" in foreign policy because of her proximity to Russia and Canada. And some conservative reporters are calling for her to step down, which is causing a bunch of ultra-ultra-conservative backlash calling this reporter a "Traitor to the cause" and lashing out with radical labels like "communist" and some silly ones like "false conservative."

Please point me to the Democratic silliness. I know it's out there, this is just floating on the top of the internet right now.

When will the circus that is our "democratic process" end?

Uh, guys? I'm in trouble.

I should probably be banned from the internet.

This is bad.

I just watched a trailer for Little Big Planet... I mean, I'd seen clips before, but WHOA.

Problem is: PS3. I don't have one. Wasn't really planning on getting one. Was going to get a 360 here before too much longer, as it's actually got games that I'd like to play on it, but I was vehemently holding on to my snobbish snubbery (SHRUBBERY) of the PS3 on pure principle. Not because I hate Sony, but because the PS2 was quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to me, and change is bad... ... ...

That brings up different topics for another time.

ANYWAYS. PS3. This game... It's just so... cute. You boys have me wanting a 360 for a plethora of games that have reawakened that spark inside of me that I didn't realize was dead/sleeping. In all honesty, I think WoW killed it. POINT IS: you guys, with that demonstration of Braid the other day, helped me out. I had lost something; this was lost long before I met a lot of you. And now it's back, and about to tear my mind apart.

I'm going to blame Jeff for my realization of it, because if he hadn't given me the link for Multiwinia, I wouldn't have read the dev blog - wouldn't have clicked on ALL THEIR LINKS - wouldn't have seen the trailer/peak of LBP.

If you give a mouse a cookie, right?

Mmmmm, I don't think this has just to do with games, either. My creativity was dried up. I didn't want to make anything, I just wanted to veg. All through high school, and much of my freshman year, I wanted to make things. I wanted to master what I needed to in order to create something amazing. That changed my sophomore year. A lot of things happened my sophomore year, so I'm not sure if I should blame it on WoW, depression, disillusion, or shock. We'll go with WoW for them moment. That game is just too... Yellow. Not like, "yellow-bellied," as that makes NO sense, but the color yellow. Like sunflowers. That color and I don't get along. But life's not yellow anymore. It's a nice brilliant fluorescent blue. Nearly white, but not quite. This is the color of my childhood, everyone.

Moving on: after my sophomore year, well... you guys saw the aftermath. I'm not sure anyone truly realizes what goes on in my head, as that's not what comes to the surface. I think the person who ever truly understood the disparity between my mind and my actions was my high school math teacher. She never teased me about not thinking things through, only chided me for thinking them through too quickly, and subtracting where I should have added (I had a real problem with that). After the year from hell, my junior and senior years, I was an average, angry person. Angry about being average, and angry about everything else besides. I'm tired of being angry.

I think I'm done now.

What should I make first?

P.S. Yes. I used "snubbery." What are YOU going to do about it? :D

I'm about to my wits end with this god damn thesis thing. Perhaps six hours was a bit more than I could chew, eh? Maybe I'll just stick with ONE three hour session... that'll work, right? No one will kill me?

Holy crap, that might make it so I can finish this thing by May!!

I just want the world to know that linguist =/ translator. Thank you.

Anyone want to help me transcribe??

Fun happy hours!!!

Please?




I'll give you a dollar...

In other news, I am officially depressed, because the organic, ongoing *conclusion* to the best story ever told through video games is being shit-canned by GameTap.

I wear metaphorical black for the Cavern.

I'm starting to wonder if I'll get a good night's sleep at all this semester...

I should just take the GRE and get it over with. And stop playing video games.

I had a series of rather bizzare dreams last night. And I'm not entirely certain if all of them are from last night, but I connected them together for some reason.

The first one is the one that I'm not certain when it occurred. I really think I had it a couple days ago, and just now remembered it. Basically, in the dream, I boarded this... space ship, constructed by the United States Air Force (and kinda rigged up like a naval vessel inside), and got to go into space. I'm not sure how this thing got off the ground into space, but the whole thing was linked to me going back to the Academy. I think I played video games the entire time, as there was a "break room" set up with all kinds of neat things.

The NEXT dream is where the weird stuff starts happening. Don't ask me how these two dreams are related, because I'm not sure. I had gone to Japan with a friend of mine, for some reason, and while we were there, aliens attacked. It was kinda like War of the Worlds, except the aliens looked different. They kidnapped all the people, and started blowing shit up. Me and a friend of mine eluded capture, and I spent a fitful night camping in a clearing (that was supposed to be my house, I think) and watching the road for fear that they would find me. Then I woke up. It was like 2 in the morning. So I made myself go back to sleep.

In this next dream, I had made it back to the United States, where I guess our overwhelming military might beat back the invaders, because, well, they weren't there. I suppose it might have had something to do with the fact that we have an actual military, while the Japanese have a self-defense force. I dunno. Anyways, it took me a while in the dream to figure out I was back, because I remember being very confused as to why everyone was walking around, not captured by aliens. Aliens had been there, because there were bridges blown up, and military personnel everywhere. We went to the beach. And stayed there the whole time. There was a TON of people at the beach. So I swam with a dolphin. And under a bunch of retarded salarymen (don't ask me, maybe they got there the same way I did) who were... bouncing in the water. But I swam with the dolphin. And somehow became a toddler, in my dream, as while I was swimming, and grabbing onto flukes and dorsal fins, I could hear my dad and my uncle having a conversation about whether it was okay for me to be doing that, because I might get hurt.

Not sure.

I think the melatonin is at fault here. Not complaining, though, because I woke up at 8:20 without an alarm.

So. My uncle (also my uncle) recently got published for the second time ever (in fiction, mind you, he's written text books) in an online 'zine called Ray Gun Revival.

So the point of this link-heavy post is to direct you here. Page 6 starts the Pasadena Rule, and you must read it. I'm serious. Go now. Then go read the rest of it. It's a great read. Technically, it's short enough all together that you can read it all in one go (I did), but it looks to be serialized nicely. It'll be done in February, I think, and it leaves you wanting to go to Venus.

go Go GO!!!

Also, he's writing a novel right now that I can't WAIT to be finished. I'll let you know when it's done.

My grandmother died around 10 this evening. I'll be heading up to Illinois to see her buried next to my grandfather sometime next week. Burial rituals being what they are, and all. I don't know what's going on for New Year's, but I might not be involved. We'll have to see. I'm going to listen to my CD and crash, now.

G'night, all.

And, while I'm thinking about it, because something I said to my Dad reminded me that it's not just for the old to die, I love you all. You make my days brighter.

I am armed, and dangerous.

My bookshelf now sports a sword AND a bow (I GOT A BOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). The latter of which I CAN string, so ha! I have an awesome quiver, which I will probably randomly wear around my apartment, just cause. And I must shoot it. When can I shoot it? I'ma try for... Thursday.

Who wants to come laugh at me?

I just realized that the name on this icon is... gamibt.... I need to fix that typo.

I HAVE A BOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No really... She did. Go look.

We has a kitty, now. His name is Fitz Chivalry. I got him from my friend Emily, who had always told me his name was Fitz, right? Well, guess how that conversation went:

Blair: Hey, Emily, I love you, but I think I'm going to change Fitz's name.
Emily: Eh?
Blair: Yeah, to Fitz Chivalry.
Emily: But that's his name.
Blair: Ah, Bu.. I.. We... huh? ... Oh.
Emily: (lol)
Blair: We're too much alike.

In addition, we have the same number of letters in our names.

And I have come to the conclusion that birds are retarded. Even moreso in flocks. Birds fly which way for the winter? Apparently north. Passed a MOB of birds flying... north... On my way to Arkansas last week. And another flock going the SAME way on my way back. Do they know something I don't?

Merry Yuletide, everyone! I wish Santa would visit me. :( But we don't has a chimney.

I have spent the better part of this day wearing nothing more substantial than a bathrobe. Yay. And thinking about thinking. And who I'd be if everything were gone. Interesting thoughts there. I think I know myself pretty well, and if it were just me and me, I'd be okay.

I drive to Jackson tomorrow. And back up the next day. Suggestions for Christmas presents for other people are being accepted now. And requests. Actually. Demanded. Ready, go.

I go to bed now. Good night.

I am very confused by my uncle's wife. (Just occurred to me... she's as much my aunt, technically, as his first wife, right? The one that mothered my cousin? This blows my mind... I have a new aunt!) She's... episcopalian? But she's got this rather interesting world view that very few Christians actually have. She's of the opinion that all religions come from the same place... Which I respect. A ton.

But she thinks all humans are aliens. Swear to god. We were talking about my cousin's baby (second cousin once removed? first? niece?) and how she babbles, and not even kidding, out comes the idea that we're from some distant asteroid. Not even a planet! Oh well, Cindy's great. She gave me the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (I thought it was the Tibetan Book of the Dead at first, but I don't know...), and honestly, I don't think she would be taken aback if I told her I was anything other than Christian. Which is something I wonder sometimes about the rest of my family (especially since, y'know, Uncle Will is a MINISTER. Doctor of Dogma, if you will). I keep acquiring family members, somehow, as my cousin got married a while ago, and has a little girl who is... eighteen months? Her name's Elanore, but is commonly called Peanut (Goober, by my dad, who says she's not big enough to be a proper peanut), flower child, monkey face, Elsinore, Hamlet, and anything else we can think of to call her at the time.

Adorable. And looks exactly like our OTHER cousin did when she was in kindergarten, or some such. I swear, we could all pass as sisters. Except, Lydia has brown eyes. Or dark hazel, or something. I think, technically, MY eyes are hazel.

Oh my. I'm sorry, I just started going. I think my mind doesn't actually want to read this book that Cindy (Aunt Cindy? Whoa.) gave me, because then I'll have to think about the small hospital bed in the middle of the living room... She faced down Liberian, or Libian, or Algerian, or something-somewhere-hot revolutionaries, you know. And was married to my Grandpa until the day he died... Probably more accurate to say she's still married to him. That in itself is saying something. I don't imagine it's easy being married to a man like my Grandpa Schu. Travelled the world. Has an incredible collection of things that all have stories. Like the stuff from Mongolia that was given to her in a yurt. Or the blown ostrich egg. And EXQUISITE burka-thing-whatever-it's-called. She has china that her mother collected, and family trees, and stuff from all over the world. What's going to happen to that when she leaves? I can't even type it. I can't fathom it. She's so formidable. But she was so small...

Ack, sorry again, I'ma go read.