Oh c'mon guys... Little Big Planet, Fallout 3, Command and Conquer: Red Alert 3, Spider-Man Web of Shadows, Dead Space, Eternal Sonata, Star Ocean: The First Departure, Far Cry 2. These are all games that are out or will be by the end of this week. All of these are A-level titles that I've been looking forward to for months. I don't even have enough money to pay for all of these, much less the time to devote to each of them. Hell, I still haven't even beaten Mega Man 9 because I've been so busy. Not to mention next month (Resistance 2, Valkyria Chronicles, and so many more...). I'm swimming in great games here.
So why couldn't these have all been released this summer, when I had time, and a job?
Oh well, it's pretty stupid to complain about too many good games coming out anyways. Aside from a few titles, it's not like I can't get them later next year, when I have money and could possibly have time (though I highly doubt it).
The big question here is if I can keep myself from snagging Little Big Planet and Fallout 3 this weekend. I'm just not sure I have that much self-control.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Triumphant Return
If you've been following my blog over the last few weeks you've most likely noticed that my posts, when I write them, have been fairly succinct and not of particularly high quality. I have publicly blamed this one school and the general business of my life, but that is a half-truth. To be honest over the past two months or so, I have had a very hard time writing and began to feel that it was a chore, rather than as something I truly enjoyed. So, instead of writing well-written, clearly thought-out posts I've been dashing a few lines off and leaving my computer to go play video games or take a nap.
Then this last week happened.
The weekend before last I was able to go sailing with my family, an act I haven't done in over three years, and for perhaps the first time in at least as much time I felt at ease. I wasn't trying to impress someone, when I was helping out on the boat (which was surprisingly not very often thanks to my brother's seemingly boundless energy) it was with a feeling of generosity and a desire to real work rather than to keep everyone happy with me, and most importantly, I felt completely comfortable around my brother.
I love my brother, and aside from a few select moments, I always have. However, for the past few years I've felt distant from him. I could feel the awkward silences between us and felt that rush of embarrassment to cover them up with stilted dialogue. This last time I saw my brother I didn't feel that at all, I just felt like we were brothers again, and it was really nice to have that back.
Aside from this I've been re-playing Persona 3, and aside from remembering what a good game it is, I've been remembering all of the lessons it taught me about life the first time I played through it. I had forgotten to enjoy life, that my time is inherently limited and I should do everything I can to become who I want to become and do what I want to do. I had forgotten that lesson, and like all students I had to be taught it again, and will probably have to do so again several more times in the future, but at least I know where a good teacher is.
Finally last night ended with me staying up until two in the morning revising a poem I had written. I'm not a terribly huge fan of poetry, but as a creative writing major I have to take advanced writing poetry, and my assignment for today was to bring in a poem that I had taken to workshop and revised. The poem I decided to re-work was the first poem I had written for this course, and had slapped together an hour before class because I had almost forgotten about it. The original was serviceable enough, it had a slight nursery rhyme slant to its sound, but there were numerous mistakes and errors in its beat and rythmn. Because I had to head to school early today, and it was about 7 P.M. when I started the revision I had no intentions of truly revising this poem, and was merely going to give it a minor facelift, call it good, and head to bed after I finished my other homework.
This didn't happen.
I spent the next four or five hours poring over the poem, reading it aloud over and over until, finally, I felt that it sounded right to me. The first thing I noticed was how much time had passed, the second that I had barely felt like fifteen minutes had gone by, then I realized how happy I felt. I had regained my joy of writing, and all it took was a little coffee, a little music, and a crappy poem.
After I finish this final paragraph I am going to go work on a project that I have been putting off ever since I returned to school this semester. This project is perhaps the most important thing I will do this year, but I couldn't get myself to devote time to it. Now, thanks to a sailboat, my family, a video game, and a no-longer shitty poem I can finally get to work on creating my future, and I couldn't be more excited about it.
Until I write again, Vale et Valete!
Then this last week happened.
The weekend before last I was able to go sailing with my family, an act I haven't done in over three years, and for perhaps the first time in at least as much time I felt at ease. I wasn't trying to impress someone, when I was helping out on the boat (which was surprisingly not very often thanks to my brother's seemingly boundless energy) it was with a feeling of generosity and a desire to real work rather than to keep everyone happy with me, and most importantly, I felt completely comfortable around my brother.
I love my brother, and aside from a few select moments, I always have. However, for the past few years I've felt distant from him. I could feel the awkward silences between us and felt that rush of embarrassment to cover them up with stilted dialogue. This last time I saw my brother I didn't feel that at all, I just felt like we were brothers again, and it was really nice to have that back.
Aside from this I've been re-playing Persona 3, and aside from remembering what a good game it is, I've been remembering all of the lessons it taught me about life the first time I played through it. I had forgotten to enjoy life, that my time is inherently limited and I should do everything I can to become who I want to become and do what I want to do. I had forgotten that lesson, and like all students I had to be taught it again, and will probably have to do so again several more times in the future, but at least I know where a good teacher is.
Finally last night ended with me staying up until two in the morning revising a poem I had written. I'm not a terribly huge fan of poetry, but as a creative writing major I have to take advanced writing poetry, and my assignment for today was to bring in a poem that I had taken to workshop and revised. The poem I decided to re-work was the first poem I had written for this course, and had slapped together an hour before class because I had almost forgotten about it. The original was serviceable enough, it had a slight nursery rhyme slant to its sound, but there were numerous mistakes and errors in its beat and rythmn. Because I had to head to school early today, and it was about 7 P.M. when I started the revision I had no intentions of truly revising this poem, and was merely going to give it a minor facelift, call it good, and head to bed after I finished my other homework.
This didn't happen.
I spent the next four or five hours poring over the poem, reading it aloud over and over until, finally, I felt that it sounded right to me. The first thing I noticed was how much time had passed, the second that I had barely felt like fifteen minutes had gone by, then I realized how happy I felt. I had regained my joy of writing, and all it took was a little coffee, a little music, and a crappy poem.
After I finish this final paragraph I am going to go work on a project that I have been putting off ever since I returned to school this semester. This project is perhaps the most important thing I will do this year, but I couldn't get myself to devote time to it. Now, thanks to a sailboat, my family, a video game, and a no-longer shitty poem I can finally get to work on creating my future, and I couldn't be more excited about it.
Until I write again, Vale et Valete!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
YAWWWN
Well, that was the least interesting debate I've ever watched. I'm going to blame it all on the crowd. I mean honestly, they were throwing lowball questions when they should be trying for screwballs. Not to mention how absolutely un-townhall that was like.
Between this boring debate and my sore throat/runny nose I'm probably going to head to bed early. I'll post something with a little more content if my roommate's radio show inspires, but I wouldn't hold my breath.
Stupid school with its germs and weakening my immune system.
Between this boring debate and my sore throat/runny nose I'm probably going to head to bed early. I'll post something with a little more content if my roommate's radio show inspires, but I wouldn't hold my breath.
Stupid school with its germs and weakening my immune system.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Keep 'Em Close
I have a terrible poker face.
Well, only partially. I have a hard time remembering the differences between straights and flushes and what exactly trumps what, so it's usually pretty easy to tell when I think I might have something good because I'm scratching my head. On the other hand, my face barely registers emotion most of the time. I'm not quite sure how this happened, the rest of my family is quite active with their faces, but unless I'm having one of the best days of my life my lip won't even curl. It's so bad that I can tell if I had a really good day because my face hurts from smiling more than it's used to.
This attribute is not nearly as useful as one may think. I often find that people think that I am unhappy or that I dislike them because I don't smile. 9 times of out of 10 I actually like the person and I just feel comfortable enough around them that I don't have to pretend to smile in order to make them comfortable. I often wonder how many people have thought about talking to me only to be rebuked by my lack of facial notification.
In the end I like my natural tendency though. It gives my smiles a much more genuine feel, and those that know me can easily tell when I'm really having a good time. I guess it's the same reason why I am loathe to abuse swear words, I prefer their impact to remain at a high level, smiling frequently would weaken the expression's power. It also helps in the classroom, as I look like I am very studious at all times. More importantly, however, is the fact that it doesn't put my emotions out there for others to read. When I dislike a teacher they get the same fake smile I used when I didn't know anything about them, so they don't gain the bias that can so dangerously affect my grades. Comparing this to most of my friends who will actively explain to a professor how much they dislike them and I can only wonder if my inability to show emotions quickly or easily causes me the think through my emotions more than others. That, perhaps I have more time to recognize my emotions and to foresee their affects/effects. Of course it could just come from my learning to deal with my anger problems.
Still, I do have to wonder. So many of the students I see at school are so open about how they feel, it's like looking at a picture book when I'm used to reading through academic texts. Is this emotional outburst a bonus to humanity, or are we losing something with the transition. I can see students who look like they're on the verge of tears over a scraped knee, yet even my friends aren't aware of when I'm in pain unless I choose to actively show it.
Perhaps, as I get closer to the end of my time at this institution, I am beginning to see the students in a more childish view. That I am finally ready to leave behind this immaturity. That may explain why I feel so critical of the student body lately, and yet... I feel that my generation is woefully unprepared to take on the burden of responsibility. I fear some terrible war will break out on American soil, because I know that perhaps only a couple dozen of the thousands on my campus will be anything more than a hindrance in such a situation. I worry, because I feel that my campus is one of the more mature undergraduate student bodies in the nation, and when they make me feel like I'm sitting in class with a bunch of preschoolers...
So, how is your poker face?
P.S. Both John McCain and Barack Obama have terrible poker faces, they're as easy to read as Charlotte's Web.
Well, only partially. I have a hard time remembering the differences between straights and flushes and what exactly trumps what, so it's usually pretty easy to tell when I think I might have something good because I'm scratching my head. On the other hand, my face barely registers emotion most of the time. I'm not quite sure how this happened, the rest of my family is quite active with their faces, but unless I'm having one of the best days of my life my lip won't even curl. It's so bad that I can tell if I had a really good day because my face hurts from smiling more than it's used to.
This attribute is not nearly as useful as one may think. I often find that people think that I am unhappy or that I dislike them because I don't smile. 9 times of out of 10 I actually like the person and I just feel comfortable enough around them that I don't have to pretend to smile in order to make them comfortable. I often wonder how many people have thought about talking to me only to be rebuked by my lack of facial notification.
In the end I like my natural tendency though. It gives my smiles a much more genuine feel, and those that know me can easily tell when I'm really having a good time. I guess it's the same reason why I am loathe to abuse swear words, I prefer their impact to remain at a high level, smiling frequently would weaken the expression's power. It also helps in the classroom, as I look like I am very studious at all times. More importantly, however, is the fact that it doesn't put my emotions out there for others to read. When I dislike a teacher they get the same fake smile I used when I didn't know anything about them, so they don't gain the bias that can so dangerously affect my grades. Comparing this to most of my friends who will actively explain to a professor how much they dislike them and I can only wonder if my inability to show emotions quickly or easily causes me the think through my emotions more than others. That, perhaps I have more time to recognize my emotions and to foresee their affects/effects. Of course it could just come from my learning to deal with my anger problems.
Still, I do have to wonder. So many of the students I see at school are so open about how they feel, it's like looking at a picture book when I'm used to reading through academic texts. Is this emotional outburst a bonus to humanity, or are we losing something with the transition. I can see students who look like they're on the verge of tears over a scraped knee, yet even my friends aren't aware of when I'm in pain unless I choose to actively show it.
Perhaps, as I get closer to the end of my time at this institution, I am beginning to see the students in a more childish view. That I am finally ready to leave behind this immaturity. That may explain why I feel so critical of the student body lately, and yet... I feel that my generation is woefully unprepared to take on the burden of responsibility. I fear some terrible war will break out on American soil, because I know that perhaps only a couple dozen of the thousands on my campus will be anything more than a hindrance in such a situation. I worry, because I feel that my campus is one of the more mature undergraduate student bodies in the nation, and when they make me feel like I'm sitting in class with a bunch of preschoolers...
So, how is your poker face?
P.S. Both John McCain and Barack Obama have terrible poker faces, they're as easy to read as Charlotte's Web.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Eyes Open, Minds Open, Memories Lost
I find it very interesting that human beings used to rely almost entirely on our memories to actually remember things. Even a culture as temporally close as the Romans relied almost exclusively on their memories to remember quotes and day to day activities (scrolls aren't the easiest medium to scan for a quote through). Yet here we are today, and we can barely remember what day of the week it is.
I was sitting in class today and discussion turned to the vice-presidential debate. I hadn't had time to catch up on it yet, but I took note of what the people in my class remembered about the debate so that I could discuss their points with myself when I read the transcript later. Do you know what I found out?
They were, universally, wrong about what the candidates had said.
Most specific in my mind is one of the classmates going on and on about how Sarah Palin had used the term "hockey-mom" five times in less than twenty minutes. According to the transcript and my own viewing of the debate, Sarah Palin used the term "hockey-mom" once and it wasn't even in reference to herself (the big point that the student was going on about).
Despite these fallacies, my classmates were taking the points raised at their word and formulating their opinions based on them, and I would have joined them if I weren't such a skeptical personality. Somehow this seems very wrong to me. That at a higher institution of learning, in classes where they are always told to probe for the deeper meaning and to never take anything at face value these students aren't even bothering to get their facts straight when it comes to who they will vote for in November. Did they just not get the lesson that this school is trying to drill into them? Did they not understand that we aren't here to get degrees but learn how to learn on our own, so that we can continue our betterment as human beings beyond the classroom?
Hell, did they even read the mission statement for the school that they're paying $43,000 a semester to go to?
I was sitting in class today and discussion turned to the vice-presidential debate. I hadn't had time to catch up on it yet, but I took note of what the people in my class remembered about the debate so that I could discuss their points with myself when I read the transcript later. Do you know what I found out?
They were, universally, wrong about what the candidates had said.
Most specific in my mind is one of the classmates going on and on about how Sarah Palin had used the term "hockey-mom" five times in less than twenty minutes. According to the transcript and my own viewing of the debate, Sarah Palin used the term "hockey-mom" once and it wasn't even in reference to herself (the big point that the student was going on about).
Despite these fallacies, my classmates were taking the points raised at their word and formulating their opinions based on them, and I would have joined them if I weren't such a skeptical personality. Somehow this seems very wrong to me. That at a higher institution of learning, in classes where they are always told to probe for the deeper meaning and to never take anything at face value these students aren't even bothering to get their facts straight when it comes to who they will vote for in November. Did they just not get the lesson that this school is trying to drill into them? Did they not understand that we aren't here to get degrees but learn how to learn on our own, so that we can continue our betterment as human beings beyond the classroom?
Hell, did they even read the mission statement for the school that they're paying $43,000 a semester to go to?
Friday, October 3, 2008
You See The Digital World Is The Opposite of The Real...
Alright, so I'm not fully recovered from my paper writing yet (I just succesfully managed to argue for the digital world in Digimon as a Gothic construction, which terrifies me). Due to this, and the fact that I completely spaced on watching the vice-presidential debate tonight and now have to watch it on youtube so as not to be ripped to shreds by my schoolmates, I will be heading to bed now rather than creating a post of any real substance. Suffice to say, there shall be a sort of make-up post tomorrow to counteract this bout academia influnced insanity.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Why Do Papers Take Over My Mind So Much?
Paper paper paper paper paper. That's kind of my though process right now so uh, no post unless you really want more of that.
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