Slow news day on a jet plane.
I'm sitting next to a large pillar, surrounded by tall machines, flashing, beeping their 1980's Atari music, and occasionally shouting "Wheel . . . Of . . . Fortune!!!"

Yes, I'm trapped in Las Vegas. Luckily, they have free WiFi access in the terminal. I'm about an hour ahead of my flight, so I'm probably going to put this away and resume listening to "The Dark Tower VII" after this.

No real news today. I was supposed to be on a five-hour flight which would take me from Oakland, CA to Austin, TX. Instead, I've been juggling flights all day. It started when they cancelled my first flight, because Phoenix was getting a "light drizzle" (based on weatherchannel.com). They had to shuttle me to San Fransisco just so I could get on a flight to Las Vegas. From there, I would wait until my next flight, which did not leave for another five hours. I should get in at about 3:00 A.M.

Earlier today, I was talking with a fifteen-year old in the seat next to me. There are still some kids who think it's the coolest thing in the world to be a game programmer, so I took solace in his adulation, while I told him some of how computers work. He showed me a story he was working on (strong Tolkein influence, but the plot showed promise). I pulled out my laptop, and started transcribing his story, adding active verbs, condensing long clauses, and using more vivid adjectives. Basically, I was doing the same type of editing that I do with my own stories. He said my version was about "five-thousand times better".

I'd forgot how much fun it was to write. To build a story, punch it up, clean it up, flesh it out. I found myself telling him about my cryo-murder mystery story, which he thought would be really cool. So, at least I've got the fifteen-year old male endorsement.

I hope I'll have time to work on it in the future. It felt really good to stretch my Authorals (muscles just above the ribs that control pompous writing).

- posted by BrandG @ 9:40 PM 0 comments

 
Ah, my friend
So, after my interview today, a cab came to bring me back to the hotel. This cabbie was a kindly-looking older gent, like a thin Andy Rooney. This cabbie, John, wanted to chat. After he determined where we were going, and talked about how the hotel had recently changed it's name, and what the weather was like, he seemed to be running out of subjects.

"So, where are you from?" His accent was thick, dropping the R from 'where', and adding it to 'are'.
"Texas".
"Ah. Cowboys." Now, I had a moment to wonder, was he a football fan? Or just referencing the only thing he knew about Texas. Perhaps if I'd said Idaho, he would have responded, "Ah. Potatoes".

"Yup." There was a long moment where I found myself feeling indebted to continue the conversation. "And where are you from?"

"Afghanistan"

Suddenly, I was interested. "How long have you lived here?"
"Nineteen, Twenty years maybe."

"Do you have family living in Afghanistan?"

"Ah, yes. My brother. My parents. I traveled there, few weeks ago."

"Really? That's a pretty frightening place to be."

"Ah, my friend."

There was a long pause. I couldn't determine if he was ending the conversation, although I hadn't really asked him a question either. I was trying to think of what I could ask him next when he said, "You see that light there?" He pointed to a stoplight about a hundred feet away. "We were driving in a cab, and up ahead, Boom! Explosion. Just like that. I say to the driver 'What is that? What is happening?' He says, 'It is just a rocket.' Like that. Like nothing. Later, we go home and watch it on TV."

Another pause, then, "Ah, my friend."

"I take a video camera to my home. Taking pictures to show my children. The soldiers stop me, and take my camera. They say, 'What are you doing?' and I say, 'I'm taking pictures of my house. To show my children where I grew up.' They say, 'You cannot do that.' Then, American soldier comes. Ah, American soldier. He says it's okay. He gives me my camera back. But if he did not come. . . they can do anything. They kill someone, nobody says anything. Nobody asks questions."

"Ah, my friend."

There was another long pause. Then, "Do not go to war, my friend. Do not go." Another long pause, I was about to ask something when he said, "Mr. Bush, ah Mr. Bush."

I said, "Yeah. I know a lot of people disagree with Bush. I've been a Republican all my life. . ." John starts shaking his head, clucking at me like an entire political ideal can be reduced to the actions of a silly child. I continued, "But now I can't even vote for a Republican President."

"He is not a Republican." John opined, matter-of-factly. "He is neither one. He is a . . . he is just a mistake."

After a while, I notice that John punctuates almost every breath with, "Ah, my friend." Maybe it's just his way of keeping the tendrils of conversation alive. Maybe it's just a reflex. Either way, it helps you realize that a total stranger is willing to call you friend without a second thought. I like that about him.
- posted by BrandG @ 6:24 PM 0 comments

 
Ouch.
I'm a total fanboy for GTA stuff, right? I mean, if you've read this, you know that I've spent a lot of time thinking about GTA. I've downloaded the trailers, read all the previews, and patiently waited until Tuesday (tomorrow). I'm nearly at 100% completion on Vice City and I've already completed GTAIII

So, this morning my wife sends me an e-mail with a great discount. If I pre-order San Andreas, I can save $20 !! Wow !!

Here's the thing, though. Pre-ordering it the day before it's on the shelves means that I get to wait while all the other boys and girls are tearing through the West Coast! Sure, it saves us twenty bucks, but it also means that I have to wait 1 - 3 weeks (because, in order to get the free shipping, you have to use the crappiest shipping method).

Here's the funny part. I bought the strategy lamer guide while I was on their website (at a great discount means that I get it for $11). So now, my total savings is eight bucks !! There was a time when I would throw away eight bucks on a lunch out with friends instead of brown-bagging it!

But that time is over. I'm unemployed now, and I have to do the mature thing. I have to give up time with my favorite game in exchange for a small sliver of continued cash sustenance. I just wish it didn't hurt so much.

Oh, yeah. It gets funnier. I also find out today that I have an interview on Wednesday that I have to fly out for on Tuesday. So even if I borrow San Andreas from a friend or rent it, I still can't play it until my plane gets back on Thursday!!!

It's just not going to be my week. Wish me well at the interview. I'll try to update this while I'm out there ( "A Texan in California: A retrospective." or something).

- posted by BrandG @ 9:57 PM 2 comments

 
R4TB0T
Okay, this is cool. There's a scientist at the University of Florida who has managed to cultivate 25,000 rat neural cells into a brain capable of piloting a flight simulator. link. Basically, he took living brain cells, and cultivated them over a set of 60 electrodes, to create a input/output link between the rat brain and the computer.

Another neat story for the day: A scientist at the University of Southern California is working on a prosthetic brain. He's building an implantable chip that can simulate the effect of storing memory. link Let's take that idea a little further out and say that the chip need not be installed empty. In theory, you can remove the chip and extract data from it. Once that's done, we would just have to decrypt the brain's storage pattern, and we would have access to real memories. Further, we could re-encrypt new memories, and reinsert the chip. Instant learning. "I know Kung Fu"

To take that even further, you could make the chip interactive. Assuming ungodly wireless bandwidth, you could make the chip in your head call in to a main server to send a specific set of your memories, and it could reply by replacing certain other memories in your head. Suddenly, you could play virtual games in your head, multiplayer with anyone in the world. Here's what I see happening:

Jim's eyes narrowed as his Gorilla fell lacerated to the floor. The tiger-bat danced in front of his gorilla, then jumped up and down on the gorilla's body. Jim sneered a little as he pulsed, "F4K3R. R4TB0T"

He didn't accuse the tiger deliberately, it was almost unconcious. Whenever somebody beats you down really well, you call them a RatBot. Some SuX0Rs would buy a RatBrain, hook it up to the game, and tie their pleasure center to their character's health. After the RatBot figured the game out, their L4M3R owners would let it play for him online. The game companies were still trying to figure out how to ban RatBots, but since they played the same way as anyone, the best the companies could do was publish names of any players that played for an unhealthy amount of time. Of course, people were figuring out how to fake that too.

As soon as Jim pulsed his message, the string of characters spilled out of his mind into a server two miles away. From there, the pattern was shot fifty miles away to a translation station, where a Kinkajou brain translated messages all day (chosen for it's surprising aptitude for multitasking). It was told where the message was going (Just East of the Euphrates in Northern Africa), and where it was coming from (Dayton, Ohio, United States). The Kinkajou called up all the languages characteristic of those regions, then recognized American L33T, and converted it to English, before making it into Farsi and sending the message on it's way.

Almost as soon as he finished thinking it, the response came back in big red 3D letters bouncing at the lower end of his peripheral vision. "U W15H, L4M3R. C0G1T0, 3RG0 R0X0R. LOLOLOLOLOL."

Jim shut his eyes and shut off the game. When he opened his eyes, the Gorilla and the TigerBat were missing, all the blood cleaned off the bathroom floor. He stood up, wiped, flushed, and went back to his trig class, scowling.

- posted by BrandG @ 11:37 PM 0 comments

 
Is it the movies, or is it me?
There are movies out there that I know I should want to see. Some movies look like I would like them if I would only give them a chance, I just can't bring myself to do it.

Right now, it's 'Garden State' and 'I heart Huckabees'. These are independent films, the kind of comedy that I usually love. So far from Hollywood, it's hard to believe they use the same type of film. In the past, I've got this reluctant feeling about movies, and it's turned out a mixed bag. For instance, I was a little reluctant to see 'Donnie Darko' or 'Requiem for a Dream', and those movies have been burned indelibly on my mind as examples of what film should be. However, I went to see 'Code 46' and 'The Grudge', and I was bored out of my mind. 'Code 46' was like three minutes of good ideas buried inside an hour and a half of pathos. Now I seem to be gun shy about any new indie films.

What's really sad is that I'm starting to watch indie films like they were Hollywood films. With a Hollywood film, a stupid idea can be great (if it's handled by the right people), while a great idea can wither and die. Now, when somebody says 'I heart Huckabees' is really good, and I ask them, "Really? Who made it?" As though name recognition should be reason to see a film.

Why am I so hesitant about seeing indie films these days? Are they getting worse, or am I just more frugal because I'm unemployed?

I should point out that this hesitancy only applies to indie films. I'm going to be the first one in line for 'The Incredibles' when it comes to town. I guess I feel more assured by a known quantity than an unknown one these days.

- posted by BrandG @ 9:20 PM 0 comments

 
West Wing is back
I don't mean that West Wing is showing new episodes. I don't even mean that they just started a new season. I mean that they seem to have recaptured the magic that made the West Wing one of the best TV shows on the air.

Aaron Sorkin has never had a bad project. He has never made a bad movie or a bad TV show. His stuff is intelligent, literate, funny, powerful, and fast-paced. When he left the show in the last season, the series almost completely fell apart. I know they got one of the original developers of ER to take over for him, but it was clear that the new crew didn't understand the show the way the old crew did. As soon as the new season started, people were acting slow, stupid, and entirely to wrapped up in romantic tangles (there was romance in the first few seasons, but it never got in the way of good story before).

I was thinking that the entire series might have jumped the shark when they recovered Zoe (Sorry, don't want to give any spoilers if you haven't already seen it). I watched the rest of the season just because I was a fan. A fan has to watch the episodes until he can bear it no more. I almost didn't notice that there was a new West Wing episode today, but TiVo is, as always, on the job.

This episode was astonishing. It was elegant, precise, intelligent, sophisticated, sly, and powerful. It was everything the series used to be. God, I hope they don't blow it this season.
- posted by BrandG @ 9:09 PM 0 comments

 
Ice, Ice Baby
So, I just had a weird thought. Water at zero degrees Celsius turns into ice. But when it gets a lot colder than that, it becomes more solid. So, zero-degree ice is kinda brittle, while ice at -100c is like rock.

So I was just wondering, does that give different kinds of ice a complex? Does the colder ice think that it's just more 'hard core' than the warmer ice? Do you end up with ice gang wars, where it's the North Coast against the South Coast?

"Look Officer, we was jus' chillin in the cup, see. Then these two weak-ass cubes come up and start trippin' like they all solid. Now, a brother don't wanna see the chips fly, but when you start givin' us static, we gonna chill yo' limp, watery ass."

Like I said, just a weird thought.
- posted by BrandG @ 3:43 PM 0 comments

 
Tragedy strikes my dog
In order to tell this story, you have to know some backstory. First of all, I've described how my dogs are very competitive, and you should know that this competitive streak does not end with our yard. Beyond the six-foot privacy fence we have encircling our yard, there is a small yappy dog that enjoys competing with our dogs in something akin to the Olympics of barking. The rules go something like this: One dog runs to the fence and barks. The other dogs run to the fence and start barking in return. Repeat. The victory conditions on this game are not completely understood, but they seem to be competing over who can bark loudest, or with the longest endurance.

Our smaller dog will run up to the fence and bounce off of it. She's a terrier mix, so she has quite a lot of nervous energy built up. I've seen her jump nearly as high as the fence. My wife and I have tried to train them against this attitude. We have tried scolding them, making them stop as they are running to the fence, just about everything we can. But the dogs refuse to learn this lesson. They don't understand why we would want them to lose the barking Olympics. Had I no patriotism?

So, one day, we were visiting some friends for a few hours, and when we got back, one dog ran up to greet us. I thought that was a little odd, but I had to go to the bathroom, so I didn't give it much attention (I don't have a problem going to the bathroom at other people's houses, I just avoid it if I can. Call it an eccentricity).

So, my wife follows our dog outside to see where the other one went. I was about halfway to the bathroom when my wife called for me.

Now, there is a tone of voice that all people have, and rarely use. It's powerful, because you only use that tone of voice in the most dire circumstances. It doesn't matter what you say, because the message is always the same. "Drop whatever you're doing. Get over here now! Something terrible has happened!" In this tone of voice, you could say, "Oh my God!" or "Fluffy Bunnies!" and the message would be the same. People around you would suddenly look. They would forget what they were doing, ignore racial or socio-economic caste system, and come to your aid immediately. Sort of the 9/11 "We are all Americans" effect. It was with this tone of voice that my wife called out "Brandon!"

I should point out that nobody uses my real name, except my parents. Since high school, everyone has called me Brand. So that was another red flag. Not that I needed one. I was on my way as soon as I heard the tone. As I rounded the door to the yard, I saw my dog hanging from the top of the fence by one paw, with my wife holding her up. Picture this dog:

Before

Hanging from a six-foot high fence by one paw. She had apparently got the paw stuck in between two planks at the top of the six-foot privacy fence. There was a large blood stain on the fence at about the level of her leg. Later, we found out that she broke a nail scratching at the fence with one of her back legs, and that's what was bleeding.

At the time, I didn't research it. I ran over to my wife, and pulled the two planks apart, freeing that paw. We laid her down on the ground, and started checking her over for injuries. There were no broken bones, no serious abrasions except for that one paw. And she was in shock. She lay there, breathing shallowly, quickly, unable to close her mouth, with her tongue hanging out and resting fully on the ground. I told my wife to get some water, as I checked out her paw. The paw had swelled to about double it's original size, so that the thumb looked like little more than a nail sticking out of a balloon. The underside of the pad was seriously abraded, and the top had a long pressure line to match.

She couldn't move, she was exhausted from the exposure, dehydration, and probably a lot of struggling against the fence. My wife brought a bowl of water and a washcloth, and we brushed mosquitoes off of her as we poured water into her mouth. She was still breathing shallowly, quickly, nonstop. My wife would hold the washcloth over her snout, and squeeze out water, while she would lick it up as fast as she could get it. We went through two bowls before we brought her inside.

She still couldn't move. She would occasionally try lifting her head, as though she was going to stand up and walk around, then drop her head back down. We stayed with her, giving her water slowly, until she didn't seem to want it anymore. We used alcohol on her paw, and ice to keep her swelling down. It was several hours before she felt well enough to walk around, and of course, she still favors the paw.

The good news is that she's fine now. She still favors the paw a little, but it's getting better every day. We still ice it down, even though the swelling is much better. We still clean and bandage the paw to help it heal, and she is pulling the bandages off when we aren't watching her. She's doing well enough now that she's started running after the doorbell, and playing with the other dog.

After

She doesn't seem to go near the fence though, and we're glad of that. My wife and I are trying to come up with a way to keep this from ever happening again. We are thinking about attaching a trellis to the top of the fence, and growing vines around it. That might make the fence tall enough that she won't try to jump that high, and block any chances that she could get caught on it.

What about you guys? Any suggestions on how to stop dogs from jumping on the fence? Invisible fencing? Bushes planted along the fenceline?
- posted by BrandG @ 8:49 PM 3 comments

 
Won't somebody please think about the children?
I've been playing video games for about a quarter century now. I've seen the evil that lies in games. I've tried to steal girls from barrel-throwing Monkeys. I've shot down countless enemy spaceships and hid behind my bunker while they defended themselves in the open. Did you ever notice that in Galaga, the ships are all flying away from you? They are running away in formation, and you're shooting them down as they retreat.

I've destroyed alien civilizations, set bombs underneath sentient beings that have no way to escape (thinking of Mother Brain from Metroid here). I've walked into peoples houses, rummaged through their rooms, taken anything I wanted, and killed them if they resisted (Ultima). I've played city-builder games where I built residential areas close to the industrial centers so I could have low-rent housing (Sim City). I've ferreted out the enemy, and destroyed his base of operations (XCOM). I've traded weapons between foreign nations (Masters of Orion). I've massed armies and routed enemies by surrounding them and annihilating them with superior numbers and firepower (Age of Empires, C&C, Starcraft, etc.) I've sent soldiers on suicide missions into the enemies lair just so that I could get a look at the base. Hell, I sent soldiers on suicide missions because I didn't like the color suit they were wearing.

In all the time I was playing these games, no one in the real world ever called me a villain. I was never labeled a killer, thief, bandit. The greatest insult they would pay me was 'geek'.

Doom changed all that. The game didn't change. I was still running around, shooting bad guys, saving the day. The only difference was that the game was played from inside a person, rather than a top-down view. It made the game more personal, made it more enjoyable, but didn't change the underlying nature of the game. I still knew I was looking at a flickering tube, listening to a series of beeps, and above all, I knew it wasn't real.

The people standing over my shoulder, watching the game, didn't have my savvy. They were not used to games. Most of them never played games. When I looked at the screen, I saw critical gameplay targets being reached. When they looked at the screen, they saw people dying. For the first time, I was called a killer.

Notice, the game hadn't changed (Doom is basically the same as Robotron or SmashTV except with a different camera view), I hadn't changed. The only thing that changed was the impression other people had about me.

I remember when people got into such a furor about Dungeons & Dragons. PTA's all over the country said that it would demoralize society and destroy our children. Well, here we are, thirty years later. There's still children roaming the streets, school violence is at an all-time low, and D&D is considered anything from quaint to geeky.

I've played the worst games out there. I've played Doom 3, GTA, BMX XXX, Postal. Some were great games, some were crap. Just like any other group of games. And through it all, I was never swayed to the dark side. Heck, I tried to play Fable as an evil-doer, and I just didn't enjoy it as much.

The only reason these games stood out is that the non-players decided that these games were dangerous, so they sold better when the outrage started. Nobody would remember Postal if people didn't violently rail against it. However, now we have Postal 2 with Gary Coleman.

Games bring out a person's natural tendencies. Nice people will play nice characters, and will avoid needlessly violent games. Mean people will tend to play mean games, and they will tend to play them in a mean fashion. You could argue that these games bring out the inner devil in us all, thus making us a more evil society. But you know what else has been blamed for bringing out the inner devil? Television, Movies, Books (mostly porn), Radio. Frankly, any time one person talks to another, somebody is going to start showing his true colors.

People point to Columbine and say that the kids did it because they played Doom. Well, there's more than a million people playing Doom, and these two kids were the only ones I know of who went nuts. You could make as strong an argument by pointing at the fact that these two kids didn't eat breakfast. Or, if you actually wanted to look for warning signs, how about noticing that these two kids had guardians who would buy them shotguns? I'm a big fan of the Second Amendment, but I draw the line at giving unstable children weapons. And I think parents who are willing to do that, are probably warping their children more than the video games they play.

Now there's an attorney arguing that a teen built up his murderous strategy by playing GTA. His argument is that there were missions in the game where the player is expected to kill a target, and to kill all first response units (paramedics, police, firemen). Well, I just finished GTA:Vice City, and I never found myself in a situation where the game encouraged me to shoot at first-response personnel. I should point out that this was the same lawyer who was arguing that the game Manhunt trained a person to kill, despite the fact that it was not the killer who played the game, but rather the victim.

In short, as the Who said, "The kids are alright." You may think the games today are more pointless than they ever were, but your parents thought your games were pretty stupid too. Just file this under the same category where you keep your children's clothing preference, favorite music, hairstyle, and slang. Video games will not make them monsters. Only parents can do that.


- posted by BrandG @ 12:40 AM 1 comments

 
No child held behind
I've been reading through the "No child left behind" act, and no matter how I read it, I seem to get the same impression. This act requires all schools to maintain a specific level of competency, and all students to achieve the same level of competency. They have a nice little euphamism on the website "Closing the achievement gap". It seems to me that whenever you make all people the same, you expend a huge amount of effort to make the low end conform to the middle, while treating the high end like an annoyance at best.

When a school is told that all children must meet the minimum level of acheivement, where do you think that school's effort will be? Advanced classes for accellerated learning? Arts and Music? Field trips? No. There will be remedial classes for everyone, where teachers teach only the test so they can get their money.

Listen, if you were a farmer, and you had a field of wheat doing really well, and another field doing really poorly, which one will you spend your time, care, and attention on? Especially if you are paid by the amount of passably wholesome wheat you can grow? What a shame children aren't like wheat. If we could think of children as commodities, harvested, bound and sold, this whole plan would work. As long as we don't think of them as people, we're cool.

When I was a kid, I got to fifth grade before the teachers recognized that I had a learning disability (It's called Dyscalculia) but at the time, they didn't have a name for it. The name I was told was "Bad at Math". So, I was the only fifth grader who didn't go to fifth grade math. I loved Math, I truly believe it is the language of God. I love finding out how formulae work, how they can be applied, how they can be proven. I was considered an oddity, because I could work through a proof all day, but I couldn't do long division.

They placed me in a remedial class with kids who ate paste. I remember one time, when the teacher asked us (all sitting at the tiny, clown colored, plastic table one foot tall) if we could think of any other words which meant "Two". The other kids stared at her, but one of the nice things about Dyscalculia is that I rock at English skills. I immediately came up with "Pair, twin, couple, set, does 'half' count?" I frowned at her as she stuck a little gold star on my shirt.

So that was my lot in life. My parents, teachers, other students just accepted that while I was very bright and clever, I could not do quick math to save my life. I was writing a text adventure on my TI-994A one day, when my mother said, "You know, it's nice that you like computers, but you can't be an engineer without good math skills." The implied ultimatum pissed me off to no end. My mother meant well, she was trying to get me to center my attention on something I had a better chance succeeding at. But that ultimatum upset me enough to push me into engineering. I fought for every C I got in Math, but I did get them. I was in remedial Math all through High School, I had to take every College Math class twice, but I did beat it. I got my degree, and I've been programming video games for the last seven years.

My point is that I made this happen. My parents were supportive, but they didn't push me. They accepted it as a learning disability (I think they had higher hopes for my brother, he was the brilliant one). My schools sure as hell didn't push me. They just kept assigning me to classes where I would feel like I was "among my peers". If I hadn't pushed myself, I would not be where I am now.

Based on this new No Child Left Behind act, I would not have been pushed to excel. I would have been pushed to change schools. I think my school would have found it cheaper to give up the money of a child with low Math scores than it would be to teach a 'disabled' child.

It reduces a child to an asset. If a child excells in one area, and flounders in another, they will not be encouraged in the area of their excellence, they will have their failures pounded into them. If you want to see a problem child, take an artist, and only talk to him about Math.

Apparently, according to the No Child Left Behind act, schools that aren't performing well enough will have to provide supplemental care (like tutoring and after-school assistance). So, if a school can't afford to pay it's good teachers well enough to keep them, they will then be expected to pull extra money out of their magical money tree to pay for tutoring and after-school assistance.

Of course, they won't get more money to pay for those sessions, because now students will be able to take their stake in the school, and go to a better school. So, the better schools will flourish, while the worse schools wilt on the vine. No child left behind? How many schools will be left behind?

If I'm wrong about this, please tell me. I just can't see a good side to it.
- posted by BrandG @ 11:30 PM 0 comments

 
In Anticipation of GTA: San Andreas
In anticipation of the upcoming GTA: San Andreas game, I've been replaying my old GTA III and GTA: Vice City. With all the new games coming up this season, you'd think that a person wouldn't have time to play these old games, but I have to admit I have tunnel vision with regards to GTA. In the past few years, these games have been the ones that most stood out to me, that seemed the most fun.

So I started wondering what made these games so good. It isn't really the engine, because they just used RenderWare on top of a very basic low-poly graphics system (it had to be a simple engine to run on PS2). It wasn't the brand name, because when GTA first came out, it didn't even have a brand name. Their physics is passable, but only just. So what made it one of the best selling video games in the past five years?

In a word, Character. Every person in the game has a distinct, individual, sharply defined character. Their character is evidenced in everything from their voice acting to their animation. Most of the characters are cliche's (like Phil, the redneck ex-Army ammo dealer, or Sunny, the mob amalgam of the Simpsons Fat Tony, Vito Corleone, and Tony Soprano).

More than the main characters, every person on the street reacts like a real person. They talk smack to each other, jump out of the way of cars, and glare at you as you brush past them. There are people on every street, giving the whole level a sense of life.

The radio has character, from their commercials for Ammu-Nation ("You're in the ten minute waiting period! Come in today and get our 'Try before you buy' special!") to their talk radio, with a shootout between a religious nut and a nudist.

The missions have character. No two missions are exactly alike, and every one of them has a story behind it. The story always makes sense for the situation, and the missions are finely crafted to be just a little bit more difficult than you would expect. The missions are not heavily scripted, there are no walls shunting you from one room to the next, like a rat in a maze.

Most of all, the map has character. I played True Crime: Streets of LA, and it was a pretty good, hollow rendition of GTA. One of the major problems I had with True Crime, though was that I never had any idea where I was, and I never cared. All the streets were at right angles from each other, and they were all the same. In GTA, you feel like the entire map was made for playing around with. There are minigames all over the place (look for the RC car racing, or the insane "unique stunts"). The map has conveniently-placed ramps for jumping your vehicle over, there are turns and straightaways that you know were made for speeding through. There are shortcuts, underground passages, and just a host of things that make the games great.

You can say that GTA is dangerous, or that it's teaching our children bad values, but you'll still be wrong. Games have had evil baked into them since they first started, and players still know enough about games to see it as fantasy, rather than learning to be like them. . . . You know what, I'll save that for another post.

Let me just leave you with this. There's a reason GTA games have always outsold their competitors. That's because they have more character than any other game out there. That may change in this next iteration, but I'd bet it won't.

- posted by BrandG @ 11:38 AM 0 comments

 
Reverse Halo
So, I'm standing in the post-purchase line at SAM's club (you know, the one where they make sure you didn't steal anything between the checkout line and the door). They've got an overhead camera, with a TV monitor to let you know that if you did try to steal anything, they would be able to identify you by the back of your head.

For me, it's a depressing sight, because I've been losing hair since my early 20's. By now, I've got the Jack Nicholson receeding hairline, and a Franciscan Monk hairdo coming from the back of my head. Now, I don't mind having hair, I don't mind being bald, but being in between just makes you look desperate. You just can't comb your hair without it looking like a combover. Usually, I can ignore it, and I look okay in a mirror (just as long as I don't put two mirrors together to see the back of my head). And, of course, I've got dark hair, so my bald spot shows up like a reverse halo, glimmering happily in the TV Screen.

Anyway, I'm staring up at the monitor when the ticket marker walks up to me, and draws a highlighted line through my receipt. I say, more or less to myself, "Good grief, I'm bald."

She looks up at the monitor, then smiles at me and says, "Just date short women."

I think about my waifish, five-foot five wife, and that actually makes me feel better.

- posted by BrandG @ 11:22 AM 0 comments

 
How to be an Artist !
You know, after about a month and a half with no work, I'm starting to see how people become artists!

When I was working, I used to worry about time a lot (how long until lunch, how close to the weekend, when's the next holiday). Now that I'm unemployed, I work from approximately 8:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m. and from 10:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. I define work as building my personal project and looking for a real job. I take naps whenever I want, play video games, and generally ignore the clock. I've got TiVo, so I never have to be awake for any show.

So this means that the days are all short, I only notice time as the passage of day to night, and I start noticing the seasons change. I find myself thinking about loftier issues, unbound by the fetters of office life. I've even started thinking of writing poetry.

So this is what it's like. Without Thoreau's life of "Quiet Desperation" I'm left with the ability to read, think, watch movies I never would have seen. I no longer think of my schedule, my workload, my task list

• Implement Bone Override in Goldy Boss's fat stomach - 75% finished.
  
• Implement Head tracking in Toni Boss - 50% finished
  

Don't get me wrong, I've still got a task list, but I tend to burn through it pretty fast, and still have time for other things. I've been crossing things off my todo list about as fast as I've been writing them. It's just that I find myself thinking about bigger things as well. I've got an idea for a short story (maybe a novel) based on a cryogenics clinic. I'm thinking about drawing a webcomic about the all the gods of the parthenon represented as slackers hanging out around a 7-11 (If only I knew how to draw).

I think the only way a person can become an artist is if he has no need or opportunity to work. If you have a trust fund, a scholarship, or no way out of the ghetto, you find yourself looking above the workforce, to a larger picture of life.

Either that, of I'm just dealing with a mid-life crisis.

- posted by BrandG @ 8:14 PM 1 comments

 
The Chick-Can
I swear, I can spend all day having fun in a Wal-Mart. Okay, here's something I found hanging from one of the aisles.


Welcome to Texas

That's right, it's the household appliance no domestic engineer should be without! The ChickCAN rack! Finally, there's a rack that can codify the process of humiliating and defiling one of Gods creatures as much as possible.

As the instructional image pornographically shows, the chicken can be cooked or grilled while being sodomized by a beverage of your choice. The ChickCAN manufacturers are obviously recommending their favorite beverage, "Beer".



In the picture, the bird even seems resigned to her fate, arms hanging disconsolately by her sides, she just seems to be saying, "Yes, that's right. Get a good look at a chicken with a beer can up it's ass."

I picture a bunch of rednecks standing around the grill, trying to get the beer basted flavor throughout the chicken. They're standing around, trying to stand the can on the grill, while balancing a chicken on it. They push the can further up inside the chicken, burning themselves on the grill, and swearing at the bird. Then one of them throws down the humiliated bird and says, "Gol-darn it! There's jus' gotta be a better way!"



Then suddenly, a voice from off-camera says, "Now there is!" They all turn to look at one guy, clean-shaven, masculine and rugged. In his hand he's holding a metal contraption that looks like it could muzzle a bear.

He strides purposefully forward, takes the beer can in one hand, and shoves it into the contraption. Quick reaction shot of the other rednecks "Oooh!"

Then, he grabs the chicken, violates it with his invention, and stands the bird up on the grill. In this commercial, the CG-rendered chicken seems absolutely blissful, while doing a little dance on the grill, and giving the rednecks a thumbs up (using the end of it's stunted, plucked wing as it's thumb).

Next, we jump to a graphic scientific demonstration of how the ChickCAN helps get beer flavor all through the bird, with cute little arrows to show where the beer vapor goes.

That brings up another point. Somewhere, there's an artist who was told, "For this project, I want you to draw a picture of a plucked chicken, with a beer can . . . um . . . inserted in it." How do you sit down at the drafting table, look up at the Frank Frazetta prints and the Salvador Dali posters that you have hanging over your work area, and think to yourself, "Okay, I should start the sketch with the beer can. It's the center of the piece. I'm going to need the blue 3mm pencil to start sketching."

I imagine this wasn't the only image they created. The artist probably did a couple of them. The first few, that showed juices dripping down the beer can, were probably cut because they were a little too "suggestive".

"Grabbing a chicken leg in each hand, plunk the bird cavity over the beer can."

That little nugget of wisdom came from the recipe for "Beer Can Chicken" Brought to us by the Food Network.

Enjoy.

- posted by BrandG @ 1:42 AM 0 comments

 
Icy Cold Bling Bling
I was leaving my local Wal-Mart Super Center, and happened on this display.



See, It's like this, yo. If you wan' the respect, you gots to get the Bling. An' if you wants the bling, you gots to get the chedda'. Ain't nobody gonna give you the chedda, yo, 'less they hear you bust tha' mad rhymes. And no way you're gettin' up on stage unless you got the respect. So, you see tha predic'ment.

Tha's why a little G gotta start out with tha' Icy Cold Bling Bling. When you ain' got tha chedda, an you gots to get the bling, ain't no better place than the Wal-Mart doorway.

Something tells me that when you buy into the Icy Cold Bling Bling, you're taking a dangerous step from bein' a stone cold, hard-ass G-dog, and into bein' an Icy Hot Stunta

Seriously, I start thinking about who their target audience is. Is it the pasty-faced pre-teen white boy shamefully looking both ways before dropping a quarter in the machine, and then inspecting the plastic bubble filled with his ill-gotten respect? Does that child pop open the bubble, inspecting the plastic jewelry, thinking, "This is probably close enough, as long as nobody checks it out too close."

Is it the teen who buys it just as a joke, perhaps putting in a couple of dollars in quarters, so that he can put together his halloween costume?

Or worse yet, is it the little child, who has no idea what the words mean, or why he wants it, but he's always hearing people on TV talk about it, so it must be something good. I picture an eight-year-old who only knows that he wants the bling so he can get the girlies, even though he knows all girls have cooties.
- posted by BrandG @ 1:32 AM 1 comments

 
Christopher Reeve and John Kerry
Christopher Reeve died tonight, Sunday Oct. 11. On Friday, John Kerry talked about Mr. Reeve in his debate, pointing out that they were good friends, and shared views on stem cell research (as compared to the dark-ages mentality that makes President Bush ban stem cell research).

I mention Mr. Reeve's passing to my wife, and her eyes narrow: "So, do you think the Republicans did it?"

I frown at her, trying to come up with a cogent response. Then I ask, "Leaving aside all the logistics questions, why would the Republicans do it?"

She says, "To make Kerry look bad."

So, I make the argument that this only helps Kerry. Makes him look good, because he would garner sympathy votes for having a friend die. This makes my wife ask why I'm trying to pin this murder on the Dems.

I say, "I'm not blaming the left for this." She responds, "So, if you don't think it's the Democrats, then why point out that they stand to gain? Or do you think that the Republicans are trying a smokescreen to make us think that the Dems did it?"

I'm back to my clever defense mechanism of frowning with my mouth open.

Wait. How did I get put in the position of pointing an accusatory finger at anybody?

- posted by BrandG @ 4:14 AM 0 comments

 
Lone Gunman
They say that Lone gunmen use three names (Lee Harvey Oswald, John Wilkes Booth, Mark David Chapmen, James Earl Ray, etc.) So, I'm just wondering, who did Alexander Graham Bell kill? Or Oliver Wendell Holmes?

Hey, does this mean that John Wayne Bobbit is just an assasin cell in waiting?
- posted by BrandG @ 11:22 AM 0 comments

 
People for the Ethical Spiritual Treatment of Animals (PESTA)
< disclaimer >
This one was weird. It seemed like a funny idea at first, but
as I fleshed it out, it started sounding like something
real. I wonder if the Onion ever has to deal with that.
< /disclaimer >

People for the Ethical Spiritual Treatment of Animals (PESTA), a radical Christian offshoot of the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, released a statement today decrying the use of animals in behavioral studies.

When asked about how PESTA differs from PETA, organization president Norman Kyle responded, "PETA has always been worried about the physical well being of animals. For that we applaud them. However, PETA has only considered the physical side of an animal's well being. If one is to argue, as PETA does, that an animal is equal to a human in all important respects, then we must consider the implications of the animal's psyche and the animal's soul."

Animal-testing labs have long been a target of PETA protests. PESTA however, largely ignores these labs in favor of behavioral research projects. Kyle, "PETA says it is wrong to keep pets, and that we can certainly agree on. But holding a pet in luxury is psychologically insignificant compared to the heinous atrocity of these behavioral research labs, where a rat lives in a cage with a lever that either elicits an electric shock, or gives a food pellet. There are dozens of these experiments, all warping the minds of innocent animals for the scientists curiosity."

"The Lord says, 'Whatever you do unto the least of these, you do unto me'. So we swear to stand with our friends, the dog balancing a treat on his nose, and the rabbit selecting which color lever to push."

"Wherever there is a rat in a maze, we will be there; and one day we will all be free."


- posted by BrandG @ 2:16 PM 0 comments

 
Sorry for the Loquacious posting
I know some people hate it when a Blog is continuously updated over a day. Unfortunately, I'm a manic/depressive, so I have a tendency to fly into uncontrollable fits of productivity. This is to offset the times when I'm so depressed I can't move. So, anyway, read as much as you want, ignore the rest. That's what I do.

Anyway, I've added the Google AdSense stuff here. I doubt anybody's going to read this, but it would be nice to make a couple of bucks off of it if they do.

- posted by BrandG @ 2:13 PM 0 comments

 
Tony Robbins and my Dogs.
So, I have two competitive dogs. One has been described by outside observers as "highly food motivated". The other one is just the alpha dog, so she has to work harder to prove her social superiority. This proves that there are intricate levels of social bullshit in the lower animals. Surely there's a scientist proving this somewhere. ( I picture Sigourney Weaver as the scientist who lives with dogs in a backyard for a year "Doggies in the Dew")

Anyway, so the rules for leftover food are simple. Try to make two equal portions, then put one plate in front of each dog. This works pretty well, unless you are talking about giving them the plastic container that previously held a TV dinner. If you have two dinners, you're cool. If you have one, then Oh Baby, it's ON!!

If either of them hears you walking to the kitchen, she will start running. The other one will hear the first dog's collar, and it will start running too. Then, you've got both of them in the kitchen, looking soulfully up at you. I'd swear they suck in their guts too look like they're starving.

So there you are, with one plastic dish (coated lightly with imitation Alfredo sauce and a sad, listless noodle) and two dogs who will each gladly smack the other one down for a sniff of the dish. You start to put the dish down, thinking that one of them will take the initiative, but they step up in unison, even putting their heads next to each other as they close in on the dish. You straighten up, still holding the dish, as you start fearing that you might not get your hand back. Then, at the last second, you drop it, letting the chips fall where they may, and hoping you won't have to hose them down.

But there's another way around it. Sneaky, cowardly, but it works. You walk slowly, quietly, to the kitchen, maybe letting one dog see you. When you reach the kitchen, you drop the dish for that first dog, and offer the fork to the other dog when she gets there. The fork is almost a humiliating insult of a leftover. As you hold the implement out to the dog, she will stare at you with an incredulous sneer, and maybe give the fork a halfhearted lick.

This is a cheap way of giving away leftovers. It's not fair, because both dogs don't get equal shares of the leftovers. However, I like to justify it by using the Tony Robbins type of philosophy:

The winner is usually the one who shows up.
-Tony Robbins (I think)

See, this is wonderful, because I can blame my cowardice on my dog's lack of assertiveness. Now, I don't have to be a leader, because I can blame others for not being leaders themselves! This makes it easy for me to make decisions, because I can just delegate it to a ThunderDome-esqe competitive process.

Dogs understand Tony Robbins. They never worry about things that they've missed out on, they fight tooth and nail for what they want, and they sleep the rest of the time. Dogs leave no room for interpretation in their wishes. That's why so many dogs are captains of industry.

Man, I'd make a great capitalist!


- posted by BrandG @ 12:49 PM 0 comments

 
Pirate to Pirate


Early April of 2005, a new software package comes out based on the open-sourced Shareaza code. The new package is called "Pirate to Pirate" and it costs $5 USD. The service links to edonkey, bittorrent, gnutella, and Kazaa servers. It intercepts, compresses, and encrypts all packets going from one of its users to the other, and keeps no logs of any transference. Pte2Pte openly touts it's usefulness for anonymously transmitting movies, TV, music, and ebooks.

Pte2Pte is quickly recognized on Boing Boing, Slashdot, the Register, and even the Drudge Report. The RIAA makes statements about how dangerous this type of software is, and how it is obviously in violation of sections of the Patriot Act, the Induce act, and other legislation made to combat precisely this sort of thing. However, as the third comment on the Slashdot story points out, Pte2Pte is being distributed and hosted by a Cuban company.

"This is no longer a question of legitimate software being misused. This is software made to pirate copywritten material. These unconscionable acts will not go unanswered. "
- U.S. Trade Representative Mickey Kantor

May of 2005, Hillary Duff and her sister begin a worldwide tour to celebrate their new hit CD "What have you got for me?" The RIAA celebrates another season of increased sales, and sends out another press release showing how much money was lost to piracy in the last quarter.

By June of 2005, a hundred thousand people have signed up for Pte2Pte (about a twentieth of the Kazaa population). The RIAA has navigated the difficult legal waters, and sends a Cease & Desist to the company responsible for maintaining the Pte2Pte login servers, a company called Computadores de Seguridad. For one month they receive no response.

By August, the Pte2Pte software has become a hotbutton topic on Capital Hill. How do we handle foreign companies breaking US law on the Internet? No one wants to bring up the specter of Chinese Censorship, but the lawmakers are being heavily pressed by powerful RIAA PACs. At one point, Senator Orrin Hatch points out that military force would be an easier solution to this problem than international legal maneuvering.

Then, in September, Pte2Pte disappears. It caves completely, giving up the $250,000 fine issued by the RIAA. The RIAA loudly trumpets the success of American might abroad.

Of course, by September, almost half of the Kazaa users have joined Pte2Pte, each paying their $5. Which means that Computadores de Seguridad pays the quarter of a million dollar fine out of the five million they had made in five months.

That means that half of the Kazaa population now feel a little bummed about losing their anonymous server, and start looking around for a replacement. Luckily, a new program from a German developer just came out, called "ArrrSoft" and it only costs $5 as well . . .


- posted by BrandG @ 11:22 AM 1 comments