Friday, December 27, 2013

Heretical Babblings: Something Krampus Snow Titles Are Hard!

Hello again. I'm catching up on sleep and video games and the next section of The Walking Fella, so have some more vomitings from my sugar-highing brain.

Last night—well, this morning—I beat Borderlands 2. Honestly, not super impressed by the last houror two. The final mission took things from a fun shooty looty game to a mind-numbing slog. And don't even get me started on the final boss. It was like fighting the Rakk Hive, only with ten times more health and slightly more effective attacks. Not fun. Just boring. It took me about twenty minutes of standing and tanking hit after hit while firing at the glowing weak spot to crush the thing. Here's hoping the DLC fares better.

Hmmm... “shooty, crush, firing, health, attacks.” If the NSA is reading my blog, they must have me on tons of watch-lists. I mean, my Google searches alone are incredibly suspicious. “How to make ricin,” “how to make a dirty bomb,” “what sound does a knife wound make,” “medieval torture implements.” I must look like either a psychopath or a terrorist. Generally I try to intersperse such searches with things like “How to write a military thriller” and “how to write a chemistry paper” just to look SLIGHTLY less sketchy. I have the same problem in real life, too. Apparently it scares people when I pull out a (very small) knife to open boxes or remove cable ties. I don't understand! I love people! I hate to see anyone hurt! I mean, I get that the metal and the interest in darker artwork and the whole “awkardly antisocial” thing make me look creepy, but I swear I love bunnies and baby kitties and stuff!

So I recently read most of the Planescape Torment novelization. I'm fairly certain it's just the dialogue/text from the game strung together with some barebones narration. A little disappointing, but now I'm hyped to play the actual game.

At least Heart of Darkness was excellent. And I mean excellent. It's... It's a thing. A very powerful thing. I was pretty affected by the ending. “The horror!” will stick with me for a long long time. “Can't you hear him? Hear it all around?” The portrait of a man who's gone mad and another who almost went the same way. There's definitely racism present—no denying that—but at the same time I think Conrad is saying “See those 'savages?' You're just as bad, only you try to hide it with a veneer of civilization, but out in the darkness, the veneer cracks and out comes the monster.” So the moral is: Everyone's a monster inside? And it's more honest to just be a monster without pretending otherwise? Or something. I don't know. I turned off the literary analysis function of my brain for winter break.

Listened to a few different bands over the last couple weeks... Elton John, Year of the Goat, Disarmonia Mundi, Born of Osiris, Flogging Molly, the Pogues. While Sir Elton tends to be a mixed bag with me—either a hit or not—and Flogging Molly and the Pogues are 100% gold to my ears, the others were...disappointing. Especially Year of the Goat. Take Muse-esque proggy noodling, add in a dash of Queensryche, mix in a singer more whiny than Matthew Bellamy, and spit in it for good measure. Yeah. Not a fan.Born of Osiris and Disarmonia Mundi were just blah. “Death metal” my bum. More like mallcore metalcore. Ah, I can feel the metal hipster overtaking me! Speaking of metal hipsters, I love reading Metal-Archives threads. It's a wonderful magical place where the internet's stupidity and stubbornness meets metal's exclusivity, and creates monstrous masterpieces. “Read the first post.” “Even though there's been five hundred posts about why Korn isn't on here, I'm going to start this argument again!” “Read the first post.” And so on and so on. I've whiled away many a pleasant hour laughing at these fools—Sweet Hastur what am I doing with my life? AGH!

Oh, yeah, there was that new Beyonce album, wasn't there? Eh. Wasn't impressed. The intros really killed it for me. “Look at the awkwardly sweet little girl I used to be! See the memories of my earliest triumphs! Herp derp!” Give me Lorde's “Pure Heroine” or Gaga's “ARTPOP” any day. At least I could tolerate those.

Finals are over. At last. I spewed a lot of nonsense onto pages the last couple weeks of class. I wonder if any of my teachers realize that 99% of what I write is just glorious glorious horse-hockey. I get A's, so what do I care? Who am I to disillusion these people? Let them think that I'm paying attention.

Anyhoo, reckon I'd best get back to formatting this new computer. Windows 8. Bah. Can't stand it. It's growing on me, though. Like a parasitic fungus. Ciao!