Happy New Year

As I sit here, my little labbook turned journal strangely misplaced, I toast to Firefly and wonder about the past.

It has been an intriguing year. I've been through a lot, I think, and soon, it seems, recovery may be on the horizon. Plenty of bruises, lots of yelling, many many concerts, more yelling, a few cold stares filled with sorrow and disappointment, at least two broken hearts and not enough band-aids for any of them, a challenged friendship, a short-lived romance, a straying faith, a light at the end of the tunnel, a separation from family, and then a big embrace back into the folds. (no, I'm not done) Perhaps it's the way that alchohol can so readily mitigate my weary mind, but even a glass and a half fools my brain into thinking I am mildly intoxicated (though I am certain, "It's all in my head"). Anyway, I am sounding a tad morose in my list.

I have had joy, and a real, almost giddy, sense of belonging, followed by the heavy sigh of barely scraping by through the year, and then a resounding yell of triumph over an A- in Geograpy, that used to be a D+. A lack of poetry at this closing, and not nearly enough writing, far too many video games, a dash of insanity here and there, worry with every stare, understanding in every glare (poetry, ha!). I made some promises I didn't keep, got drunk once and felt it, and got kicked in the head about three times...but I'm still up, and I know there is someone that still loves me.

So happy new year. Resolutions:

Fight the old habits (nail-biting, I will defeat you yet!)
Work harder on getting a six-pack
Become a respectable tuba-player and a balanced musician and composer
Keep my word
And give out more hugs than anyone can count.

Thanks for the read. Have a great night, and don't get too drunk. Hahaha.
Over and Out,
Adam

Time Wasters of the Millennia (sp...oh screw it)

1) The Internet. Hell, you're wasting time right now reading this stuff. True, if you're family, you're reading it to see what's up, how I'm doing, and whether or not I've gone insane. If you are not family or friends, you are wasting time. Flash films, trailer sites, online gaming...heck, porn...all these things just waste time. True, a lot of them can fill us with valuable information, but what is valuable? Knowing when the next Harry Potter book's coming out, that's what!

2) Video-games. This one can be tough sometimes. Mainly because I love We Love Katamari. And I am not denouncing video games. Heck, for a long time, I wanted to make them...I kinda' still do. However, video-games are definitely, or at least can be, one of the most anti-social forms of time-wasting (at least the internet has AIM). What am I saying? Hello! MMORPGs have made the internet and video-games unusually eutectic with each other (Battle Net was first, mind you, but...). Any online gaming makes us feel that much more connected with the rest of the world. I mean, who doesn't love punching the lights out of giant magma monsters with dudes and dudettes from Australia and Japan. Now that's fun. That is, until you realize that it's 4 in the morning. Hmm, sleep much?

3) Television. Hmm. Where to begin? The evolution of television has been a double-edged sword. In many ways, I am thankful that I do not have a TV in my room. It allows me to devote my full attention to my studies or my friends. However, at the same time, I am nearly oblivious to the happenings around me. I don't know when movies come out, I never know what's going on on Lost, and I miss out on just about every season of the Amazing Race. BUT I must say, I don't miss sitcoms. Why? Because sitcoms today suck. I mean that. They are the biggest waste of time in the television industry because no one can write a script anymore.
But television has been the nation's biggest time waster since its inception. We, as a people, love to watch events. The tube can also be a great way to share history, though, and I commend its usefulness, and it's possible to find a happy medium in your viewing pleasure. It ties our culture together. I just dislike couch couscouses.

There aren't any hunter-gatherers left. No wandering samurai. No more need for young warriors with expressionless faces who speak with their noble actions and little spoken word. Maybe that's why they're so popular in fiction... I just can't shake the feeling that there is so much more I could be doing with my time.

Thus I return to one of my points from the beginning: there is something else. When you strip away all the shadows of success, and what it means to really live; when you think about human experience, learning from your mistakes, and picking yourself up when you fall. "It" is there. There is something else we, I should with my life. Something simpler. Life's too short to beat around it. You want something, work for it, work until you bleed battery acid, then work some more. Never take no for an answer. Don't forget your dreams, and always dream too high for reality.

There will always be a time to waste, but I won't waste my life. Not anymore. I have it in me to be something wonderful. So, "Be that man, (insert hot name here), be that man." And not until you finish your work, should you play.

I've had a tough semester, but I'm far from done. So here I go, dukes up, heart on fire, mind on ice. I'm off to study, thanks for reading my rant.
Over and Out,
Adam

"Let's get Adam drunk!" (part 2)

I find it interesting how many people in college find it absolutely acceptable to simply 'pass' a course. Maybe college is just their right of passage, so they don't have to strive above and beyond their best. Or maybe they're just innate geniouses who aren't being challenged (yeah, right). Whatever the cause, there are still too many people on this campus who don't have their priorities straight, and are wasting their parents' money (or their own).

I observed this the other night when I attended a get-together with some friends (in a completely controlled atmosphere) and had a little to drink. Now, I've been drunk before. I don't want to be again. I'm sure it was funny, but for me it was hell. I couldn't stand up straight. I became Sir Floppy Legs, and for someone whose vocabulary actually increases with inebriation, my speech had begun to slur. When your brain notices these things as they are occuring, it is a surreal experience, and a frustrating one at that. Imagine trying to help someone stand when you yourself can barely balance. Also imagine, if you will, simply trying to think straight without falling asleep. This was a time when sitting became the most attractive thing to do to my body. Only at the end of the night did I become nauseous, and I made sure to drink lots of water to flush out my system, so I thankfully had only a small headache the next morning.

My point here is that I had a lot of things planned for the weekend, and the majority of it was studious. I was going to finish projects, be uber-prepared for performance class, and memorize my a cappella parts. Thing was, I was going to accomplish these things by waking up early and working hard.
I didn't wake up until noon. I had a game at 3:30. We got back at 1:00 AM. There goes Saturday. I sleep in, again, due to sheer exhaustion, go to the gym, practice tutorial a smidgen, go to sisterhood stuff, then head back for more homework. I still didn't get much done.

So what did I learn out of all of this? There are multiple potentials in every human being. There are paths we can choose that will lead us down to excellence, but there are often sacrifices on the way. Do you sacrifice social status for excellence? That's my current question, but there are others. Such as: How does one achieve balance when your major requires you to be one-sided?
My major is such that I must practice every day, and do so on multiple instruments, if I hope to succeed. Ergo, I have no time to waste being drunk, and I have little respect for those that will waste valuable time getting wasted instead of bettering themselves. Partying is all well and good, but not when failure looms on the horizon.

That is my current state of mind.

In other news, I got to see The Island last night. Here is my summary: "Run!" The entire movie, with a few short-lived breaks in-between, was one gargantuan chase scene. Good music though.

Thanks for reading, and have a great day.
Over and Out,
Adam

Recession (Take 2)

People need to chill out, especially during band practice. I severely dislike bad attitudes, especially from sections that shouldn't be critiquing others before they critique themselves. Just calm down, take a step back, and figure it out, before shooting your mouth off; then we can bypass the whole dirt war thing.

So I thought I would clear up any confusion and explain the title to my last post. I had meant it to be much longer, and thus less...how shall we say, strange? So here's take two:

My pledging process is at an end. I am now a member of the Co-ed Band Sorority Tau Beta Sigma. Yes, that's right, I am a sister. Now, I have time to practice and become proficient once again at my major. I recieved word a few weeks ago that next semester I will take over for the Tuba players leaving the Wind Ensemble and the Orchestra. As you can probably guess, that is quite an honor...I'd better practice a lot ;).

Despite overloading myself with a myriad of knowledgeable hobbies, I still have little outlet for the martial arts while attending school. I was thinking about scheduling a Karate class, but I need that time to practice and/or study my keister off. So I am in a state of Martial Arts recession. I feel like my body has been disaligned. I can't throw a back kick anymore, and my flexibility is horrendous.

However, Thanksgiving break is fast approaching, and I hear a Game Day is on the horizon. Good. Because I have a new game that I hope my brother thoroughly enjoys (as well as the rest of the family). I haven't been home yet since Band Camp...I wonder what they did to my room?

Well, I'll see all of you soon, and sorry for the eccentric post earlier, I'm sure I confused a lot of people.

Thanks for reading and have a great day.
Over and Out,
Adam

Recession

In the final week of my process, with only a few more left until finals, I am embracing a state of reflection. I've had a good semester, stressful as it was, and all in all, I've changed dramatically. The discoveries that one makes inside of themselves during college are astounding; that people have ten times the capacity to get things done if they truly set their mind to doing it, and plan ahead just a tad.

They also have the ability to step out of their bounds countless times, further widening their circle of separation until nothing is left out. For example, in the past week alone, I have worn two skirts, one dress, various women's tops, two pairs of guard pants, a hawaian flower, and two to three very tight pairs of jeans (one only reached up to my thighs). This was all in good fun, mind you, and I have no intention of having a sex change, but I doubt if I would have had the confidence or the guts to do that last year.

I apologize that this is so brief, for I still have little time to update, but I cannot wait until Thanksgiving break. A time to practice, sleep, and best of all, see family and eat lots of turkey with them.

I'm off to Symphonic Band, and a performance test. Thank you for reading, and have a great day.

Over and Out,
Adam

On a more traitorous note

The second official college exposure game of Betrayal at House on the Hill went surprisingly well. I think I played with the right assortment of D&D veterans and Bang enthusiasts. We were so into the gameplay that all six of us were standing up around the table, surveying the situation. But it was my magnifiscent power-play in the end using my Speed stats to attack the Zombie Lord with the Revolver and win the game for the good guys! Too bad we lost two allies already to the Zombies... If that made no sense to you, I apologize.

Also, on top of the sudden enthusiasm toward my 'tweaked' version of the game, I took out my package of Chrononauts and explained the premise to my fellow gamers. They were quite excited, but vociferously tired, so we turned in for the night. However, my gaming group may at last be making the transition from one-game group to a versatile, fun venue for new, old, and interesting games. Huzzah!

Over and Out,
Adam

Loneliness

What is the definition of human attraction? Why do we gravitate and swell toward each other, just so we can know that another person holds us in their hearts, if only for a brief glimpse of tomorrow?
As I take another gulp of cereal in Buckley Dining Hall at 7:30 in the morning, I notice things. I notice people consciously deny the company of others, but still hope, like a revenant traveler returning home, that someone will notice them and sit down beside them. I notice this, because I notice it within myself.

We are such a lonely race. The way we sway, meandering along a broken path as we walk, careful not to bump into each other. But still we bump. We look for excuses to just touch each other; to simply graze a sweater’s shoulder for the acumen sensation human contact. Has anyone wordlessly grasped your shoulder, especially someone of the opposite sex, and then quickly retreated their hand to their hooded pockets? That is only a shadow of what I am talking about.

Maybe we’ve analyzed it too much. Maybe we just want to be touched.

I’ve been compulsively searching, sifting through the hordes of people on the Facebook to discover, or rediscover rather, all of the people I knew in Middle School, or maybe even earlier than that. However, these new entities are no longer the people I knew; no longer the ones I traded words and laughs and songs with. The only resemblance they bear, like snide epitaph on the tomb of their past, is the echo of childish looks etched into their faces. Their smiles, their glares, their faces, and stares; all of it…is the same. These are the people of my past, and I of theirs, simply passing through time as we age…but we are still connected, no matter how thin the string wears or how far it stretches. It is still there. And my memories have never been clearer.


People say to stop and smell the roses. Rather, why not stop and just look at each other. Then we’ll see what it’s all about. Why we must be together. We are connected by our race, by our spirits, by our very existence. Our coexistence with each other.

So maybe, in our own instinct, we have seen the future. We must stick together. In order to survive, we cannot stand alone…as I have done.

I am rediscovering a family; a very large family. And just like any family, sometimes we lose track of each other, of our spitlines, of our bloodlines, and of our friends. The point is that we never forget the glimpses. We never forget the glares. We are still here.

We are all. Still. Here.


Well, I’m feeling sentimental and tired. I think I need a girlfriend. Goodnight. Thank you for reading.

Over and Out,
Adam

World Solution #1

In our world today, there are many conflicts. Also in our world today, there are many solutions to these problems. It is too bad NONE of them are being implemented. So I will start a revolution...one solution at a time.

Here at college, people have many arguments. Some arguments are good, they have a purpose; a goal, if you will. Other arguments are, well, asinine. Pointless. And these are the ones that can often flare up into altercations so massive one forgets what they were arguing about in the first place. So, before reaching that point, just remember a very simple solution to an argument:

A chipper game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Simple. Best 2 out of 3. No exceptions. No immature "bulldozer" or "pacman" crap. Just Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot. Then, the argument is done, resolved; you can move on with your life.

Anywho, I have three interviews tomorrow and a full day of band. Goodnight. Thanks for reading.

Over and Out,
Adam

"Let's get Adam drunk tonight!"

We had the pleasure of attending my Aunt Karen's wedding in Albany, NY this past weekend. I was hoisted from my dorm space literally the day of the wedding, we practiced our song in the car and before the ceremony, and then, well, sang. The singing went very well in my opinion. I missed a few notes but I think I covered well ;) . The ceremony itself was absolutely lovely. Shorter than I had expected, but still beautiful.

At this time I must interject that there is no one in the known universe that is cuter than my cousin Megan. She was the best flower girl ever.

And why is it that when it came time for the reception, I had accumulated another 4 glasses of champagne, from family members no doubt, to consume throughout the evening. The night mostly consisted of lots of eating (and I do mean lots - four courses of food! We actually used all of our forks!), dancing, and then, of course, my inebriation. However, I think I handled myself very well. I was never tipsy, though at the encouragement of Eric, my eldest brother, I chugged my last two glasses. Me with a little bit of alchohol only serves to obliterate my inhibitions. In other words, I become a dancing fool. And I enjoy that :) . My brother's site, the FunZone, offers a much better summary of the evening; I had a pseudo-drunken blast. (severely pseudo)

However, I returned to campus to enter my 1st official meeting of the Band Sorority, Tau Beta Sigma...and that is all I will say about that. I had an exam today, and another playing test in piano. Phew. I'm learning what it means to become flexible, manage time effectively, and be a well-rounded musician. This is looking to be a long haul; I just hope my opponents are ready for me, I've been working out.

Over and Out,
Adam

Conversations at the Urinal

So I was standing at the urinal with this guy on my way to see Crash at the Student Union theater, and my cell phone started buzzing in midstream. I thought to myself, “This is the most inopportune moment to have your cell phone go off.” Then I thought how fun it would be if the guy next to me thought the same. So I said it…out loud.

I think he grinned, but that was all, for dare he laugh, snort, or utter any sound and acknowledge that the conversation is occurring, he would shatter his own illusion of solitude. So I joked to the defaced wall in front of me.

And I thought, then, that there are only two moments in time when we are absolutely helpless: When taking a piss, and taking a crap. In terms of cell phone, peeing is the worst, because both hands are occupied. When sitting on the throne, one can still (hopefully) reach his/her pants and fetch the vibrating nuisance. However, the latter brings me to the point of the day.

The only time that those mysterious Ninja Monkeys that were dispatched to kill you (I am certain everyone has come across them)…could, is when you are sitting prostrated while pushing out your daily-inner-demons within your rectangle of relief. Food for thought…or indigestion.


On a more bloggish note, life is good. Piano has served as a positive alternative to biting my nails and my right hand at least is looking sexy (if one's fingers could be sexy). And upon being rejected by all four a cappella groups at the university, I have taken to scheduling most of my extra time to go toward the rehearsal of everything else I have to do. So at least it wasn't that I didn't try, and by practicing everything else, well, it just feels good to be skilled at your major for once.
My middle-range spot had already been taken. Everyone seems to be looking for either a Tenor I or a Bass 3. Good luck with that one guys. ;)

Hope all things are peachy. Thank you for reading.

Over and Out,
Adam

Counter Rant II - Fear and Loathing in Life

A commentary on Risk and A piece of a Convoluted Mess – Part 2

Some people are born without fear; without inhibitions and devoid of judgments. They usually speak softly and the ones I know carry big guitars.

I saw a concert this evening…in a café. So it wasn’t a concert, it was an act. Anyway, my new friend Jeff, and a man I know from last semester’S sister, Beth, performed a veritable cornucopia of original songs (written by Beth) and a few covers.
Simply put, I adore the sound of a guitar, but even more than that, I worship the sound of two. Jeff’s harmony of voice and strings ebbed and evanesced between melodies seamlessly and Beth’s style was mesmerizing. Both are outstanding musicians, and Beth is a fantastic lyricist, so the mix was euphoric.

But Jeff has no fear.

He approaches everything with a smile or a grin that hides nothing. His actions are random, spontaneous, and sincere; merely actions, with no ulterior motives, mischievous planning, or malicious self-service…unlike the rest of us.
This allows him the ability to take risks, without the declaration that he is taking them. His actions are simple in execution, and could easily backfire, but I doubt he is even thinking about that. He becomes supple to his surroundings and never dwells on the past. In a way, he just exists, living and experiencing every day to the best of his ability.

Are we…Am I afraid to live? But, “what are you talking about? I’m living.” I mean, hey, no one wants to be improvident and end up making a decision that you regret, right? We want to be safe, we want to be secure; why risk failure?

Because then we become robots. We continue on the same path with the same routine, until the day we break down. We don’t change. Without risk, nothing changes.

…Maybe this is all part of God’s creative juices. Create one human who is entirely impavid and impervious to any affronts we can muster, then, to compensate, God disperses the mass excess of fear and self-doubt among the rest of us. Perhaps this is why our bodies and minds are so imbalanced (screwed up).

Speaking of change and offering a segway into a non-existent conclusion, I have diagnosed myself with Onychophagia (the compulsion to bite one’s nails) and since its symptoms match mine perfectly, I have hatched a plan to fight it (about bloody time). Two days and counting that I have not bitten or picked my nails (or I have stopped myself in time). Ergo, on some small level, I understand how some Smokers must feel, because this is HARD. I’ve had this habit for years and it has only worsened with age. They said braces would cure me, but it only offered itself as a challenge to the aspiring nail biter! I found ways around my impediment to achieve a higher level of Nail Biting!
It made me feel like I had accomplished something, somehow, like I had beat the system or some such nonsense. Also, as the description of Onychophagia suggests, nail biting serves as a type of energy release (it makes me feel good), so as one can imagine, the event of me depriving myself of such a sensation can be difficult.
So I am converting my overload of self-destructive desires into more positive forms of application…such as forcing myself to pay real attention in Geography (I learned a lot of nifty stuff, too!).

I am not afraid to change. Though my current impetus for this change is a girl, she is well worth the effort.
Old habits die hard, but I’ll die harder.

Over and Out,
Adam

Counter-Rant I: Anger

Life is good.

Life is very good. It is as simple as that. I know there will be challenges, but the difference between myself last year and this year is that I will gladly face them.

I am learning piano at long last, and loving it. I'm learning about the Physics of Sound and Music, with Keyboard training, and Harmony EVERY DAY. I just auditioned for the highest instrument ensemble in the school (I hope I impressed somebody), and I have never felt so alive.

But not that crazy, shaking sort of alive. I feel...knowledgeable, determined, and powerful beyond measure. And this feeling offers no detriment to any other person, as if I were better than them or something. This feeling is entirely internal. I am content, and excited.

And this feeling...I am suddenly beset by my previous posts, how my last mess of wrath and words was only a prelude of things to come, as I spiral deeper and deeper into my temper.

So in that light, my quest for equanimity has hit a snag, to which I have turned from this path of anger, and instead have picked up the search for the source. I do not enjoy being grumpy, but for a time it had seemed one of the few things people could relate to...which makes me very sad.

But tomorrow is a new day, and I'll face it, sword drawn and grinning.

Over and Out,
Adam

PS: Due to my rigorous studying schedule, you'll hear from me every week or so. Take care and thank you for reading. ;)

The Internet, Masks, Necessary Evils, and Personal Truth

In other words, A Convoluted Mess – Part I

Does how we conduct ourselves on the internet transcend how we do in the outside world?

I have been studying etymology in the hopes to extend my vocabulary. Heck, at least it’ll make me sound smarter, if nothing else (but I hope it is something else). And in truth, I have achieved my first goal (to eliminate “like” from my vocabulary of filler words; now I must extricate all of the fillers with simple silent pauses). But in acting intelligent, does one become intelligent? Or is it all a fabrication – a mask over the mind? Someone once told me “People don’t change, they just get really good at faking it.” However, if one fakes long enough…if a man fakes monster for long enough, does he become that monster? Are our fabrications and realities eutectic to each other?

If you act like an asshole, and continue to for a time, sooner or later, you will become that asshole. I’m sure there is a catchy adage in existence that I’m missing here, but oh well.

I just hope I am not sacrificing bits of personality in a quest to better myself. I am proud of being able to articulate more accurately what I am thinking or feeling, but I worry that I may come off as sounding a little like a pedant (basically: a prick. “One who shows off their knowledge,” as I am doing right now). And apparently my epiphany in the last year and a half when this quest was still incipient that I had come to refuse to be ignorant and limited has not rung true to many of my friends…so I will say it again.

I refuse to be unable to articulate what I mean and feel, and I will do whatever it takes to become the person I want to become.

If that involves studying vocabulary for the rest of my life, so be it, at least I’ll be knowledgeable; hell, I love it anyway. And I am becoming this person, donning this Mask and calling it my own. But it is not a Mask, it never was, and I want my online face to match my real one. Though my disposition here is one much more irascible than around campus, one could easily tell that this is my venue for releasing my frustrations with the world (please see title of Weblog) and hopefully answering a few questions while raising a few more.

But I digress:

If all the world is a stage, then the internet is simply extending that stage; it elongates into the Orchestra and invites audience guests by the dozen at every dance number (which is every second). But the scenery and spectacle have become much more deceptive. The fourth wall is broken, along with the fifth and sixth, and the Masks are still present. They stick and graft to our faces, filling in every nook, every niche, form-fitting in every trait.
And as the line between truth and fiction blurs, the liars become prophets and the sincere are ostracized without question.

I use this metaphor because good people, who conduct themselves courteously, have been harassed on the Net. And assholes (pardon me), who conduct themselves as much worse, are praised for it. Then there are those people who would become lost in the Internet. AIM Junkies, Compulsive Away Message Checkers, Bloggers (heh, go figure); people that become so absorbed in the World Wide Web that they are no longer a physical person. They have donned the robes of another being, a digital entity.
In my own defense, though I am technically a Blogger, I have an AIM account, and I certainly check away messages, everything that one can do can be done in moderation. But my point lies in the attrition of our tangible selves.

Do our original selves become desiccated, vapid from the attrition they suffer with every blow we deal to save face even when that face wasn’t ours? This brings me to the core of my ire in this rant. It is the people that would completely and utterly deceive others over the internet to take whatever they please from whoever they wish who get my blood boiling. These people, no matter how you put it, are evil. But, as much as I hate to admit it, they could be necessary in their own right. Without the insincere, real sincerity would lose its power.

Without Lies, there would be no Truth.
For one to exist, the other must also exist.
So if our Masks exist, our hiding place, our sanctuary, then we have more of an admirable reason to embrace life, embrace ourselves, and discard our masks forever. But it isn’t that simple. It can’t be that simple. Why?
People. Because the vast diversity of people, there is dissention among certain people, and some of those people are, for lack of a better word, nutso. Masks today are not so much an act of power than an act of protection. With a Mask, no one can find you. Some can come close, but we always keep those most valuable details hidden; and for good reason. Too many tragic events have occurred due to a false sense of security on the internet. Too many deaths, too many rapes, and too many mistaken identities.

It is strange how the use of text and code can influence some of the worst and best behaviors in people. It is also scary. None of us are impavid and none are impervious to the affronts we receive on the World Wide Web. I suppose the art, if there was one, would lie with the balance between Armor and Attitude. Armor – Masks – to protect yourself from those that mean you harm. Attitude to choose when to be yourself and when to play a role, because both will be necessary.

So instead, the way we conduct ourselves on the internet reveals only a shadow of our real self. I say shadow because so much about us cannot be described with justice by words, so only an echo of our personalities and attitudes are expressed (albeit more and more articulately thanks to upgraded forums and weblogs) through the webspace. But it is certainly a part of us. Unless you have no life, each Mask we wear has been extracted from a part of us; made from our own flesh and blood. In this generation, we hold organic masks, ever-changing and molding, ripped from our flesh – our imaginations – our very souls, to rest beside us and come to arms when we need to hide, when we need to fight, and when we need to stand tall against the invidious flood on the horizon.

There is a point to this. I just haven’t reached it yet.

Over and Out,
Adam

Broken Sword

My Katana broke today. Well, maybe not broke persay, but let's just say it will never draw the same again.

This is what I get for fooling myself, for a sliver of a moment, that a sword replica could do anything remotely like its replicant. For that split-second when common sense goes out the window to be replaced by a meaner, leaner, impavidly unsensical sense that dictates my killing blow to a piece of rotting wood, I had decieved myself. Actually, it was a guitar frame.
Strange how a music major would give in to lancinating a musical instrument. However, this guitar was moribund. Or rather, it was already dead. With two strings left, the frame and spine separating from its joints; one could say I was putting it out of its misery...at the expense of my own enjoyment.

Dad told me to "let out my aggression" on the poor thing, then dump it in a pile and we'd put it in the garbage. So with Naginata and Katana in hand, I set to work both honing my weapon skills and completing a meager chore at the same time. And not to say I didn't have fun. The Naginata, it too being a replica, did its job well. It is basically a short sword on the end of a stick (the blade is much longer than a spear's), and my version disconnects in the middle to work as a club and a Wakisashi sword. This feature proved quite effective in destroying the innards of the frame.
Not to say the Katana didn't do well. Save for the finishing move, I was impressed with the performance of the unfolded stainless steel blade. I cut the back frame clean in too! At least my sword arm is getting better. But it was that final cut; that as I swung, all doubt, all restraint, and all fear...fled from my muscles, that it was too much for the sword. And as the front of the frame - spine, strings, frets and all - were severed from each other, the blade continued through, and I was left with pause.
A stream of air exited my nose and my relaxed muscles returned to their tension as a horrid thought breezed through my mind. I checked my blade...

It is now crooked. Looking at it, I realize it was never perfect, but now anyone can see my bent blade with utter ease. That irks me. That irks me a lot.
I am certain the thing can be repaired, but finding a Bladesmith in Northern Massachusetts might be a bit of a chore.

But it will never Draw the same again. This I am certain of, so I will savor and store the memory of its first Draw, fresh from its saya, and how something had coarsed through my veins, my muscles, my bones, my spirit, and for a moment the Tug said: "You can do anything."

That feeling, that something - it's gotta' be better than sex. ;)

Over and Out,
Adam

PS: Due to the state of my Finishing Move, I now, that I think about it, have no doubt that if that sword were not a 30 dollar replica, I could have easily and deftly cut through the tree behind the frame as well. :)

City of Heroes: Game for the Working Man...and Only the Working Man

My introduction to MMORPG (yes, that does refer to an actual gaming genre) world was one bereft of logic. After shelling out 60 bucks for the game itself, paying a meager fee of 15 (or less) dollars a month seemed downright asinine. But, when you think about any MMO game left to its own instruments, its only purpose is to provide an online battleground/society for its users. And with the amount of upgrades and patches, as well as Events online, they have to make more money somehow.

However, for a jobless student like myself, getting sucked into such a world and paying month to month would most certainly eat steadily away at my hard-earned savings, and who needs the thought of wasting both time AND money on a video game to get lines of code that make your other lines of code cooler?

But…

City of Heroes, along with a short list of well-made MMORPGs, is addicting as hell. There is something to be said about constructing your own superhero down to facial expression and trapping thugs in cases of solid earth while your teammates pummel the crap out of his helpless body. Going solo for the first couple of levels can make you feel invincible…or downright idiotic, which is why team-based combat rules in City of Heroes.

With so many possible costumes and abilities, you can find almost any combination you need. And good teams are still rare, which is why it is such a rush when you get on one.
And good Leaders are hard to come by. Some are decisive, but way too gung-ho, so pals get left behind to be slaughtered. Others are immensely impatient, but sometimes that pays off when teammates take forever to pee ;). But I like the ones that are humble enough that you don’t want to kill them after being led into an ambush and watching your pals be slaughtered like cattle.

Scrappers (melee heroes) do not make good Leaders. I don’t care if you recruit well. When the things get dicey, Scrappers cannot give orders, we’re too busy fighting. Controllers, Defenders, or Blasters make exquisite Leaders. Why? Because they are a fucking distance away. They can easily survey the situation and make educated decisions on what to do about it. It is great fun to watch a Scrapper take on a Boss all alone, and then freeze that Boss solid, so that lone Scrapper really can beat him.
Now, take these comments with a grain of salt. I have seen my share of jerks, no matter what their archetype, and a fair number of Scrappers and Tanks that led very well and it was an honor to kick butt with them, but for the most part, the melee fighters…are absolutely infantile and seemingly inebriated when it comes to leading.

Now, I would not have done such a tangent if I were not fully absorbed by this game. A lot of people would say something along the lines of, “Why are you wasting brain power lecturing nerds on Leading capabilities?” give or take a few terms. And a large side of me would say, “Exactly.”

Because, although I consider myself a Gamer, as I grow older I have come to realize the art of procrastination. In America especially, we are very, very good at procrastinating. And though you could argue that MMORPGs are just another way to interact with other people, and in some sad way you would be correct, it is still effectively keeping us from doing what we are supposed to be doing. It is synonymous with the Everquest-complex: that one is so consumed by this online society, that reality seems less and less appealing. Relationships

So perhaps I should change the title to this Rant to: City of Heroes: Game for the Single Working Man. Someone who is financially covered and who won’t hate himself, at least initially, when the only place he feels at home is in the Pink spandex suit with dangerous shoulder pads at 1:00 in the morning fighting Igneous rock beasts.

Since I feel at home in reality, I can only escape for so long. I have responsibilities and a future to secure, so I only play for a month at a time. The major flaw to such a technique is Personal. I make good friends, who watch my back and I theirs, in this massive world full of different heroes, but then, by leaving for certain amounts of time, they grow up (or just level up a lot) without me. I miss their growth. And when I return, their levels are so much higher than my own that I cannot join them in their current missions.

So for friends, I just start over. And over. And over again.

But for the time being, I am much happier embracing life…
And Unemployment.

Over and Out,
Adam

How Cel-Animation May Survive: A Review of "Sinbad: the Legend of the Seven Seas"

Dreamworks has taken over for Disney in my idea of what an animated film should be. True, Dreamworks is responsible for a number of strictly CGI films, their Cel-animated movies are actually quite impressive. My favorite has to be Sinbad, so far.

Now before I get slammed for the amount of CGI in this film, let me say this:

I once saw this movie receive a meager 2 stars. I’d like to sucker-slap that guy. This movie has slick dialogue, even slicker animation, wonderful voice acting by Pitt and Jones, and good, rounded storytelling. Dreamworks’ animation crew packs a nice punch with this film, and their synthesis of CGI and Cel animation proves it. A lot of studios use CGI as a band-aid for choppier animation, but this melds the two smooth as glass. The CG is textured to fit the surrounding Cel, so although audiences’ eyes are well-trained to pick out CG from Cel, they work well enough together that we don’t care.

True, many of the sequences are computer-generated, but the CG is cel-shaded, which is a technique more animation studios should implement (or have been), and allows an echo of cel artistry to the smoother textures (which also provides some nice eye-candy).

But enough about the animation (as awesome as it is), and on to the story. Sinbad, a pirate and all-around scoundrel, must retrieve the mystic Book of Peace from Aris (goddess of chaos and discord – don’t care if I didn’t spell it right) in Tartarus in order to save his life-long friend Proteus from doom in his own kingdom in Syracuse. Still with me? To complicate matters, Proteus’ promised wife (Catherine Zeta-Jones), Marina, stows away on Sinbad’s vessel to make sure he does the job. Aris, recognizing that Sinbad will actually follow through with his heroics, sends a slew of enchantments and creatures to stop him.

To all parties, the ensuing antics make sense, and each character, no matter how small, has their own quirks. You have two Asian brothers constantly betting on various outcomes in almost every event. Their words are in the background, but are imbued with genuine wit and timing. Dialogue between Sinbad, Marina, and Cale, Sinbad’s sort of skipper, are also teeming with realistic qualities. Sinbad and Marina argue like a married couple, Cale and Sinbad speak like old friends who have been through a lot and know what the other is always thinking. I flesh that out because I easily felt those impressions from the dialogue. It isn’t that it was complex or simple, it just was real. The dialogue made sense in every situation. Too many cartoons (hell, too many movies) have dialogue spackled with flatness (uh…Star Wars) and little depth that you could read between the lines with. To really get what I mean, just watch the movie.

And finally, a few words about the music. Harry Gregson-Williams goes solo here, and offers up a fine orchestral score that has well-placed character themes and over-archs. Though the only stand-alone pieces are the main titles and Aris’ theme, Williams sets the mood nicely. I was never distracted by the music from the action on screen, and that is a good thing. Too often, bad movies use good composers as Elmer’s glue, trying desperately to hold their movie together. Sinbad is not one of those movies. The composer and the animation go hand in hand seamlessly, and the end result is wonderful.

Lastly, this movie is FUN. It’s great even if you hate cartoons. The action is well-choreographed, has surreal physics, and is just plain enjoyable, not to mention pleasing to the eye. And above all, the story's pacing and execution is top-notch. You will never be bored with this movie (unless you're a prick).

I’m buying the DVD.

Over and Out,
Adam

The Art of the Curse Word

(This is a tweaked version, with a bit less rant and more support, of my LiveJournal post)

I remember when I would not swear for the life of me. Probably because my mother would abuse me if ever she heard even the mildest of curses. "Crap" was a swear, Dang It. I even remember when Dork was a sufficient insult. It was only fifteen years ago, I'm not THAT old. But then came the day in sixth grade...when I lost it. All caution, all resolve, my equanimity was shattered as flicked off every person I knew. A torrent of curses, hexes, and swears tore from my lips, composed on the fly, to assault, accost, and affront all those around me. And I did this in an almost giddy manner, as if suddenly I was free to express whatever had been held inside. These horrible things that came from the bowels of my existence, unloaded like a juvenile Eminem pissed off at all things living.

And at the end of the day (yes, this lasted but a day), such a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, as if I had taken a long-awaited step into the "I ain't takin' shit from nobody" attitude... Yet I was still dutifully flagellated for the rest of my Middle School career by a few choice people (more on that later).

The reason I mention this experience is because also at the end of the day, my lips felt stale, as if I had exhausted my entire vocabulary associated with ire. It was like I would/could never be irascible again, because I would have no comeback. I had lost my power, my words had lost their power, and that is a painful realization.

Which is why there is an art to cussing.

It is a careful, calculating section of the human language. If used too much, its entire existence could be jeopardized. If used too little (like my case most of the time), the reaction changes to that of surprise, and it is no longer powerful. The key, then, is in moderation; choice moderation. I believe one must choose a word, and use it upon choice occasions.

For my brother, it is the word "Damn", or more often, "Damn It". This he says barely under his breath, but my ears have been trained to hear it. You hear him and you know from that very utterance, that he is pissed. And the wrath is turned entirely inward, but you can FEEL it radiating from him. And these are words thrown around, especially in college, without a care in the world, but here, slipping just under a whisper, I get goosebumps.
My brother rarely swears, and when he does, it is quietly, but the sheer amount of times (which is very minute) he says it strengthens its effect dramatically.

I think one of the major issues is that we swear too much in casual conversation. Swears, instead of being expressions of anger, have become Filler Words, synominous with words like: Uh, um, (pause), LIKE, hmm, eh, mm-kay. This...is a tad bit dumb, if you ask me. An actual curse word is meant to have weight to it, so that when you say "God Damn It!" it MEANS something.
Text messaging confuddles the situation further. Phrases like OMG, LMAO, BRB, FU are just...weak. Usually I would use a longer word to describe this... but that is just weak, dude. I never use OMG, because it means, duh, Oh My God, which is a phrase I only use on extremely rare occasions...like when I mean it! But when people use it to show that they're surprised, they would sound so much more intelligent by typing, "I'm surprised (or better yet, flabbergasted!).” Language is a beautiful thing, use it!
Though I sometimes fall into uses of text messaging as much as the next guy, it doesn't stop me from feeling a little lazy. As if we just don't have enough time to simply communicate anymore. That if we don't save those precious half-seconds that would be consumed by typing three words instead of three letters, that we might not be able to Tivo our shows, or play our video games, or do whatever else we do...to procrastinate (aka Waste Time). Hmm, anybody see something strange about this logic?

But I digress, what I am at is that the overuse of these words has left them without depth. Add contractions to the mix, and a conversation can become nothing more than a slurred mess of meaningless palaver. Cusses, without strength or timing behind them, hold no more value than the next teenage abundance of “Like.” And in most cases, there is ample room in the conversation for intelligence. With swears being thrown around to mean so many different things, I am thankful for words that can actually serve their meanings and are available for my use to describe exactly what I am feeling.

It is different for each individual to discover when it is appropriate to swear and to communicate. There are some extremely striking words in the human language, and if you don't abuse some, we'll have a chance to delve into others. Forget the whales, save our curse words. If we can succeed in returning the strength to our curse words, maybe we can save the rest of our language.

Over and Out,
Adam

PS: I think Fuck is a lost cause. It is no longer a powerful word. Saying it multiple times in a sentence only seeks to degrade the speaker. "Can you not think of anything else to say? You indolent moron?" Fuck just means too many things. It's a multipurpose word. Did you ever like the Multipurpose Room in school? No, mine was covered in Geometric, neon-colored shapes, and it was always dusty. Or better yet, it is the slut word. It does everything. I don't like using something where I DO KNOW all the places its been, and I don't want to go there myself. That is one word that can never be sterilized.
Ever.

Anime: A definition

How does one properly define the term "Anime?"

This question arises because yesterday I could have undoubtedly made an ass of myself or opened up a colossal can of flesh-eating worms just by referring to Avatar as NOT being an anime.
In the forums, this has caused a myriad of passionate results attempting to teach me what an anime really is. Pardon my ignorance, but I thought Anime was short for Japanimation, which is short for Japanese Animation, which then entails all animation animated and produced in Japan, in Japanese usually, and then when it is often purchased, dubbed, or subtitled (actually, it is almost always subtitled in the beginning) and brought to other countries, like the US, is it thrust into the term of an Anime by the populace. True, it is called Anime in Japan as well, but it seems that "Anime" is the only word we Americans use to describe this animation.
Now, the majority of what comes overseas, excluding shows like Hamtaro and similar bouts of entertainment, are action-oriented. What stems from this is an assumption that all things anime are action-oriented animation. With the Anime craze, more and more animators are drawing with Japanese-style influence. So now, American cartoons are looking like Anime. And to some people, they become Anime.
This vociferously irks me, because now the term has changed to encompass all animation, regardless of whether it's American, Japanese, British, or whatever. Now, not only action sometimes, but ALL animation is, in some areas, is being referred to as Anime. The main reason this incurs my wrath is that the definition is ineffable. We, as a people, have no idea what Anime is anymore. To some people, it is Japanese animation. To others, it is X-Men: Evolution (which is an American cartoon). To more, still, it is the entire block of shows that they consider horrible.
Because of the surplus of infantile and piqued Anime that Networks have purchased, dubbed, and flooded the airwaves with, it is becoming more and more difficult to find the shows that are original and artistic, and worth the time to view. The ones that attach to us, and we to them. These diamonds in the rough have become so elusive now that it is difficult to decipher quality out of quantity.
And it's when good shows like Avatar, Justice League, and Oh My Goddess, and Cowboy Bebop, get clumped together with the crap that has taken over FoxKids, and the WB, sometimes, even Cartoon Network (but only on extremely rare occasions...the YuGiOh movie...dear God). I feel like Nickelodeon is the only saving grace at this point, because I haven't seen an Anime yet on their Network. Everything they do, is theirs.

What is happening is a synthesis of animation styles. See, the Japanese have been animating under the clock, and know how do it fast and cheap, for years. That's why there are so many shows. And a lot...are there to sell toys. But also a lot are there to tell stories. They've been good at both. Also a fair number are dedicated to both sides of the spectrum: infants, and horny old men, but I won't get into that. My point is that the Japanese animation industry has been operating, more often than not, under low cost conditions, they are damn good at it.
Excellent, powerful, still images, where they only animate 3-4 frames of hair animation and speed up or slow down the frame rate to simulate wind currents. Painting a mural and panning the camera across it while adding plane audio for movement. Animating only the mouths of a character in a cycle of 2-3 frames, so that ANY voice actor could speak through that character. They know all the tricks of the trade. And some of the best anime in existence was made under those conditions.
However, I love smooth animation and I love the boldness of Japanese animation, which is why Miyazaki is my hero. His films are all about fluidity of movement, realism of characters, imaginative worlds, and telling a story through details, instead of an over-arching theme. Japanese films, with certain exceptions (Yugi), are often much more dedicated to animation quality, for they have a better budget to work with, thus more frames, smoother frame rate, less recycled frames.
American animation, cartoons, has had a long history of...Kidsie stuff. I grew up on Disney, but everything after Tarzan is a little disappointing (Pixar omitted obviously). Some of the best animators, lyricists, and composers in the world were a part of Disney, then, all of a sudden, the magic was gone. That's a movie example. For a long time, Disney was the forerunner in animated film (especially American). We also had our share of action cartoons, most based on comics (X-Men, Spiderman. GI Joe). But then, we grew up on Talespin, Darkwing Duck, Bobby's World, Ninja Turtles, even Gargoyles [more on that later]. True, they were predictable and juvenile (most of them), but there was/is a difference in the techniques and style.
Cartoons usually have a very fast pace. I watched an episode of Ninja Turtles (the old one) a few days ago, and noticed how quickly they move from scene to scene. There are less long pauses, more dialogue, a lot of times trying to be witty or comment on current events, more movement during dialogue, and sometimes sacrificing quality of still art for just an extra frame of movement. The characters were more, seemingly, alive. That they acted, instead of just being looked upon and watching their mouths move. In shows like Batman (the WB animation, before KidsWB took over the style) the episodes had marvelous pacing, theme, dialogue; they were exquisite, and showed a keen sense of what it meant to tell a story episode by episode, so that each episode could stand on its own.

Now, American artists are using the Japanese tricks of the trade, and implementing their own. Some make nods to famous styles of Japanimation while holding their own (Teen Titans), but others stray entirely to choppy movement throughout, glitchy frame rates, and they forget where they came from, trying to leap onto the bandwagon that has already left (in my opinion, Totally Spies). It is the ones that split the difference between Cartoon and Anime. Both styles I consider eutectic; they are easily fused. The animators that complete the fusion and keep their originality (Samurai Jack, for one) are the ones keeping up with the change of interests and will not be swept away in the wake of half-assed shows and money-grubbing producing (the purchase of Anime and the cost of dubbing is much cheaper than being original).

Avatar is one of these things. It maintains its heart, and it mixes multiple styles from multiple cultures, and thus it becomes something else. Something different. Something...simple.

An ANIMATION.

For other good examples, look up Danny Phantom, Justice League Unlimited, and the Batman.

PS: though I did not define Anime in any clear way, I intend to in the future. Thanks for reading, comments are always appreciated, especially if enlightening.

Avatar: the Last Airbender

Nickelodeon seems to making a comeback. I saw previews for this show back in January, then I heard nothing...then I missed the premiere. The big deal is, I have seen two episodes, and I am hooked.
This show is fantastic. I say this because the animation is crisp, and smooth. The dialogue is clear and intelligent, and in many cases, genuinely humorous. Characters are imaginative, and though the plot can be predictable, it's just so much fun anyway. Also about the animation, this is NOT another anime, thank the heavens. Though I enjoy anime, the incursional flood of horrendous shows that have taken over most of the major networks to which I had once called home for my viewing pleasure is appalling.
This...is not one of those shows. Superbly drawn, American animation that could easily stand the test of time; not to mention some slick fight sequences, that pull few punches. These two episodes also mark some of the few instances that I have laughed out loud...alone...while viewing. That takes skill.
I can only hope this series lasts to its conclusion, and the network does not fall into Fox's wake of cancelling good shows (i.e. Freaks and Geeks).

Over and Out,
Adam