Video Games and the Circle Theory - Assassins Creed Review

All this can be yours

There's something I've been meaning to write about for a while. Originally it was going to be a review of Assassins Creed, a fairly recent video game released by Ubisoft. However, I kept putting it off until the game went from "fairly recent" to a "distant memory long forgotten." It's a shame because I really had a lot to hate on, and a lot to like on, (but mostly things to hate on).
In a way this passage of time has been a good thing though, because it has given me a chance to further reflect on just how much of a waste of time this experience was.

For those of you who don't know, Assassins Creed was a much hyped video-game title which allowed you to freely roam ancient civilizations and stab anyone you want.

"Did someone order a stabbing?"

If you know me, an opportunity to stab just about anything or anyone is worth my time. I truly looked forward to the prospects of leaping onto a lone soldier from afar and giving him a swift knife to the neck. In all fairness, Assassins Creed as a concept is solid.
It also helps that all this glorious knifing is beautifully rendered with some of the finest graphics and fluid animations I've ever seen in a game.

So there's that.

But there's also a ton of other crap nobody really asked for. Like rooftop races to collect flags and time-based murder missions. These are all good and fine (when they aren't effing impossible), but the problem is the game tries to sell itself as being:

"(somewhat kind of maybe) BASED ON REAL EVENTS."

When really the closest this statement ever comes to reality is:


The game makes up for the historical inaccuracies (like jumping off of towering Churches into tiny hay barrels) by adding in a twinge of science fiction. They very logically explain this. You see, it's all supposed to be a digital simulation of the main character's ancestors memories, who is being exploited by an evil company, to find an ancient object, that gave Jesus the power of magic.

No, it doesn't make any effing sense whatsoever. At all. In fact, we're all that much dumber for just reading that previous sentence. But that's really what this game was saying.
So imagine how I felt after playing this for numerous hours up to the point where all this information is laid out in front of me.
Yeah, I did lower my head in disappointment and give the television the middle finger.
And no one was there to see it.

Now, I am a Christian, and I will admit the whole "blasphemy" part of the game was a tad insulting to me. Surprisingly, because I usually give a bit of leeway to storytelling. But none of it was nearly as insulting as the utter and complete level of retardedness this game had achieved on it's own.


But whatever, hey, I get to stab people. Right?

Well, yeah. The problem is, not always the RIGHT people. For example, you might be running at a guard, leap off the ground, and then find yourself landing on top of some poor lady and knifing her in the back.
Suddenly you go from hero of the poor and weak, to a downright monster.
I will admit, this did give me an opportunity to lower my controller in a moment of introspection and ask myself what kind of a man I truly was.
In reality it was the game just not working.

But you do get to stab people.

The only other problem with this is what I have been meaning to talk about.
This is a theorem for video-games.

If you don't play video games, or simply don't know how to play video games, this is all you need to know.

1.The Circle Theory - Any enemy or boss, can and will be solved by means of moving your character in circles around said enemy or boss.

That's it.
So do you want to know how I beat Assassins Creed?

I spent a solid twenty minutes running in circles.
I hit the guy once, then back to the circles while my health recharged.
It took so much effing time.
It took so much time that I lied.
It really took an hour.
I died once.
I even ate a sandwich while holding the run button down with my chin.

That's when I realized how bad of a game Assassins Creed is. It doesn't even need me there to play it.
So what's the moral of this story? Stabbing people doesn't always pay and running in circles is the solution to everything. Sounds good to me.


New Song Monday - After Tonight

Making up for lost time.
Click to download.

Zack Newcott and the Chemical Cow - After Tonight mp3.

I got Zack Newcott and the Chemical Cow a sweet myspace page too.

myspace page!

Tell every friend you have.
If you want me to make you a mix-tape comment me.


Mashups, Star Wars, Cake, and LOL Cats

I have a theory. Eventually, if we continue making insanely good mash-ups, at this rate we'll end up combining all the best songs in existence into one super-amazing-mindblowingly-awesome song. It's going to happen. I'm certain of it. Especially after listening to all the great mashup's posted over at partyben.com

This Mashup of Cake and Gorillaz is simply perfect in it's execution. Download it. Now.

Gorilla Cake - Never Feel Good .mp3

Or check out this beautiful (and clever) mashup of Greenday, Oasis, Aerosmith, Eminem and something else I can't quite put my finger on. It's a blissful audio quilt woven from the strands of so many varying musical styles. Notice how at a certain point you can no longer identify which vocals belong to which musical riffs. Very well done.

Boulevard of Broken Songs .mp3

Just as clever, if not a little overplayed, here's a mashup of Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars with the Police's Every Step You Take.

Every Car You Chase .mp3

And, there's also this one. What I'd refer to as an interesting experiment combining Chemical Brothers with, um, John Williams from Star Wars...
Galvanize the Empire

Huh. You know. I like it.
Now if only I could get someone to mashup "Zack Newcott and the Chemical Cow" with the themesong from Jurassic Park. THEN we'd be working with something.


New Song Friday - Emo Machine

I ended up watching a crazy, good, crazy-good, documentary tonight called The Devil And Daniel Johnson. I highly recommend it to any interested.

It's very well done, and pretty far-out.

On a completely different note, here's a new song I put together. My brother once described my music as Emo-alternative-folk, which was interesting. I guess it somewhat served as inspiration for this, my new little ditty for the week about an emo-kid vs. his ex-girlfriend's answering machine.

it's called
Emo Machine - Zack Newcott and the Chemical Cow


Home Alone for the Weekend

Yep the parents are gone for the weekend, so it's just me to hold the fort down. Ladies.

In case you wonder what my life is like alone, the reality is much more sad than you think.

Here is a list of things I do when at home by myself:

1. Intermittently say "hello?" Out loud. Just so that in the case there's a robber in the house they have to acknowledge my presence.

2. Talk to my cat and pretend that not only she understands, but can silently respond.

3. Wonder to myself what I would do if there were an odorless gas leak inside the house.

4. Loudly sing out in an opera voice whatever mindless task I am currently performing. "Typing on the keyboard la,le,la,le,la!"

5. Wonder how I'm going to explain that mess.

6. Just be really glad it wasn't flammable.

Really I guess it's not all that much interesting. Sometimes I wish I was one of those crazy party animals from one of those teen comedies, who manages to have a party so wild that the whole house burns down but luckily is replaced right before my parents come back by all my friends who heartwarmingly decide to help me out last minute because we had all learned a really important lesson over those past couple days and also managed to lose our virginities as well, which in the end is all that really matters.
Actually I'm really glad my life is nothing like that.
"Isn't that right Furball?"
"You can say that again!"

Here's more music by Eef Barzelay
Eef Barzelay - the Sound of German Hip hop

You're Not As Weird - Clem Snide


30 Days of Night - Review


View Trailer
30 Days of Night

It's a movie about freaking vampires in Alaska, it has to be awesome. At least that's my thought process when considering 30 Days of Night, my latest choice for a netflix viewing. To be honest, there really isn't much more than that. There's a town with Josh Hartnett, the town is in Alaska, and it becomes overrun with vampires. That last sentence should pretty much be the deal breaker as to whether or not it's your cup of tea. Whether or not you'll enjoy it is determined upon your sex, age, intelligence, and fine taste.
So here's a quick quiz:

Ax wielding Josh Hartnett + Vampire Heads =
A. awesome
B. not a valid equation

A bare knuckled fist fight with a vampire is:
A. awesome
B. retarded

There's this one part where a vampire gets his head punched through:
A. awesome
B. that's not even a question, also it's retarded.

Well, if you answered B to any of the above, you're wrong. It's all pretty much awesome.
True, it's incredibly shallow, but still awesome.
Technically, there's some pretty jaw dropping stuff in here. I just have to say, there is one overhead shot, beautifully constructed, showing the glorious destruction of the town as hopeless citizens run to-and-fro in the midst of the vampire chaos. It's unnerving, scary, and incredibly entertaining. I kind of wanted the movie just to be that for two hours.
So yes, you'll get plenty of vampire vs. people vs. vampire action.
Other than that, there's not too much. The characters are enough to get you to root against the vampires, but they're not much more than that. The story itself is pushed forward a tad too fast as well.
Forgive me, but I actually thought the character's thought processes were a tad more unrealistic than the concept of Arctic vampires. Seconds after a generator goes out, people in the town go from happy forest friends to terrified puppies. These people live in the harshest conditions on earth, you'd think lights flickering wouldn't suddenly turn them to an end of the world scenario. And I'd imagine people wouldn't suddenly jump to conclude these were vampires, either.
But hey, whatever, a vampire gets a hole punched through his head. That's awesome, right?
Let's face it. If we saw this movie while in middle school, it would be the coolest movie ever made. In fact, if you're reading this right now, and you're fourteen, and you have irresponsible parents and a bunch of sugar-high buddies, you should sneak this rental. It was practically made for you.
There are certain things I really, really, liked about 30 Days of Night. From a purely, non-horror based viewpoint, there's still a lot to like. It's nicely filmed, charmingly acted, and strangely affecting. It's just that certain things could have been magnified a bit to make the experience a tad more complete. The movie shines best when it manages to cram the most terrifying creatures into the corner, and just let them lurk. But unfortunately those creatures are pulled back into the light, a place they clearly and boldly state they do not belong.
Still, you can do much much worse. I recommend it.

Rocket Science - Review Part Deux with music (and a poem)

Rocket Science

Yeah, I already reviewed Rocket Science. So what? Big deal? Want to fight about it? Didn't think so. Thing is, I watched it again last night and I really must say, it really was one of the best movies of the year. I'm saying that a lot nowadays, but it really is a beautiful movie. In my review I gave it some guff for being a tad too much like Rushmore/Tennenbaums/Every Wes Anderson movie ever made (and I'll still stick by that). To be honest though, I would say that works perfectly for it. In a film all about finding your own voice, it manages to crawl out from the burden of being placed under anyone else's shadow and truely manages to say something all it's own. If you haven't seen it already, please do.

And if you haven't listened to the soundtrack, you should, because I have links. Tasty links.

Fight Song Melodies

Love The Unknown

here's a completely unrelated poem I wrote today.


Sometimes, I place both my hands at my side,
with my left hand low and my right hand high,
and I slowly slide my fingers along
in such a way that they can barely touch.
Then, with a quiet twitch, I have one hand
slip between the other, so my fingers
can weave themselves together in a knot.
All this must be done while I look away
It makes it easier to imagine
that one of those hands is really not mine.
But it never works. At least, not really.
I always come to, look around my class,
and down at my hands, folded in my lap,
and I remember how much I miss you,
all the loneliness of the passing time,
and the simple fear that you may forget.
But fear is made to be misunderstood,
and what can be seen as anxiety,
can really, and truely, be excitement
for the day that I can see you again.


Ninja Town (more crazy Japanese videos)

There are a lot of things I wish for. One of those things is to be a ninja. The other is for free transportation... I guess. So it's natural that the only place that has both of those things, at the same time, is in Japan.

Ninja Festival

I guess this place called Mie Prefecture has an actual ninja festival each spring (or summer, or whatever crazy season it is over there). Pretty cool, if I do say so myself.

No, it's not cute. These are ninjas and they WILL kill you if they have to. With hugs. Poison hugs. And throwing stars.

Now if only I can find a Japanese town where they have a monkey impersonating other Japanese celebrities,

Ah, yes, that must be the one.

I haven't been this excited since I first went to the Japanese Youtube!

Just because I don't understand it doesn't mean that their comments are just as retarded as ours.

Finally, here's a 1980's Japanese commercial for an anti-itch cream. I think.


Happy Easter! - New Song Sunday (has nothing to with Easter)

Hey everybody! Happy Easter!

On a completely unrelated note, here's the new song for the week. I had problems with key-changes and such, so forgive the sloppiness.
This one has to do with a fairly serious debate, that of course being which would be a worse apocalypse, that of zombies or that of evil robots. This song, being from the perspective of someone in the midst of the former category, considers the latter option to be worse and for that reason has much to celebrate.
I could probably justify it as a easter song by saying that all mankind was doomed to a much worse fate than that of zombies and robots, but was spared by the grace of God, however I think it would probably be labeled a bit sacrilegious. So I'm just going to stick to my guns and say I really wanted to make a song about zombies and robots.
This one's probably only tolerable if you imagine me singing it to another group of survivors trapped inside a Gap outlet.

Zombies Vs. Robots - Zack Newcott and the Chemical Cow .mp3

Across The Universe - (A Delayed) Movie Review


View Trailer
Across The Universe

The first image we are faced with is that of Jude, kneeling on a desolate beach as he sings out in a lonely voice, "Will anybody listen to my story?" Well, it has certainly taken me a while. Initially excited by the previews, I was surprised to find that I couldn't get to see Across The Universe while it was actually in theaters. Instead I had to wait until now to see it on DVD, as a Netflix queue. So was it worth the wait?
Well, first it's important to note everything that this movie has going for it. The most prominent is the beautifully rendered Beatles music. Second to that are the performances by a vast cast of tremendously talented actors, and performers. Then, finally, we come to the cinematography, which is, to say the least, absolutely beautiful at times. In fact, there were moments during the viewing in which I thought, this single frame could very well be hanging on my wall right now.
However, despite all these favorable attributes, Across the Universe appears to completely lack any sense of a plot.
As far as I could tell, the story focuses on three lovable douche-bags in the midst of the 1960's as they deal (yet not necessarily come of age) with the harrowing events of those times. Now, I'm a child of the 90's. All I know of the 1960's is what I've learned from stereotypical movies satirizing it. So it comes as no surprise that this film completely fulfills that stereotype. Anti-war protests, hippie vans, drugs, it's all here, dragged and placed into the folder we've all expected to find it. Yet, somehow I just know this wasn't the case for everyone. In fact, I thank God this wasn't the case with everyone because it looks incredibly boring and shallow. "Damn hippies," I kept saying, despite the fact that this film attempts to glamorize the life-style of that time.
The problem is, the film doesn't realize that it appears to be satirizing itself. Although the cinematography is beautiful in it's construction, it's subject is almost hilariously shallow. Let's give the example of the half-naked men, recently drafted, carrying the statue of liberty over their backs across a miniature Korean landscape. There's no poetry to this image, just a director beating us over the head with a camera. Okay, we get it, you think America is actually intrusive with it's democratic reforms and efforts to bring peace. Sure, cool, I get that, but how about a little subtlety? How about showing the viewer angles of an age we are still coming to terms with? Was it really that original to have a small black child sing "Yesterday" in the midst of the race riots? That's the best you can do to incite my emotions? Really?
Subtlety is key here, yet it is entirely absent. In fact, not one aspect of this film appears to not have been phoned in last second.
"What's that?" The screenwriter probably said, "There's a Beatles song called Dear Prudence? How in the hell are we going to fit that in here?"
"Whatever," The director must have replied. "Just introduce a new character named Prudence."
"Brilliant! Where's my sack of cash?"
It seems as though the only way they could manage to cram in every Beatles song ever written was by just adding more characters named after the titles of those songs. What this results in is a series of characters interacting by use of song, yet with absolutely no integration of those songs whatsoever into the actual story. Hence, there is no story. Whatever little fragments of a narrative we have left are interrupted by hallucinogenic nonsense sung by Bono and Eddie Izzard, just because they were available to sing Beatles songs.
What could possibly have salvaged this waste of talent? Probably five minutes cut from "I Am The Egg Man," and then five minutes added to build ourselves up to "Blackbird." All I really wanted was ten minutes of some decent character interaction, some real proof that these people were authentic.
"Will anybody listen to my story?" How many people have you asked that to dude? Because I honestly can't understand why in the world you're so depressed, even after listening to this for two painstaking hours.
Yeah, for a minute there I was really touched by the final rooftop serenade of "All You Need Is Love," but then I remembered how great that rooftop serenade was in a different movie, with Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman, with the same song, and then I decided I was done with this hallow shell of an experience.
And that's how I went from kind of liking Across the Universe, to downright hating it.

Netflix Moulin Rouge instead.

"World of Mime!"


Long Lost Rainbows: "Meet Kevin Johnson"

If you haven't been watching Lost up until now, don't worry, I can summarize. You see, there's this island, and there are these number's, right? I don't know what the numbers are for, but there is also a bunch of buttons too and a polar bear. I don't know what the polar bear is for, maybe to push the buttons or something, but he gets shot a lot. And there's a black guy, a baby, and an Asian dude with a bunch of other people. They push buttons too and know numbers.
So I was pretty psyched about this episode because last weeks trailer said they were going to answer every question I had about Lost. I don't know why they would ever do that because then the show would have to end. So imagine how happy I was when this episode ended and I was just as confused, if not more so, than every week before that.
Really happy, that's how.

But there was something different about this particular episode. For you see, tonight had a twist beyond anything I could ever imagine.

Tonights show, "Meet Kevin Johnson" began simple enough, with a quick recap covering Ben's secret spy on the freighter off-shore of the island and another little talk with that creepy Asian guy. They covered a lot of ground, so my anticipation built up until the sudden meeting between Sayid and Michael.
Yes, my friend, I expected this to be huge.
But, alas, all that happened was a flashback where Michael tries to kill himself and a bunch of other stuff. Where was the polar bear?

Then. It happened. Just when I least expected it, the writers of Lost pulled out the biggest twist of all.

Remember that bearded guy?

Yeah, that one.

He's gay.

I know. My head exploded too.

My Head Exploding

Suddenly everything in the Lost universe makes sense! The strange whispers, the black smoke, why the bearded guy didn't watch Kate shower when he had the chance, EVERYTHING! The second he kissed that other dude on the cheek, I knew, "THIS IS WHAT THE NUMBERS MEAN."
It was all so simple, yet so very brilliant.
Yes, there is hardly any mystery left. But while we may have the names of the Oceanic Six, the names of the closeted gays on Lost are just beginning.
So without further ado, I present, the Oceanic Gay Countdown:


Poetry and Reruns

I came across old poems from an English class I took last year, and I must say, I want to get back into writing more poetry. I really enjoy it, although I'm sure there are many people out there who would probably say I should cut my losses and stop. Well, sorry you crazy people out there, I'm going to start again. But before I throw up any more new stuff I want to post a bunch of my oldies.
Here they are:

Doing a Reading, Badly.

I could never be dyslexic
Because I can spell it,
And if I were ever to get it wrong
There’s always spell check.
And in the case that ever falls-
I’m sorry, fails,
Then I suppose I should
I once wrote about a tear
In an eye, not on paper,
And it caused great concussion-
Confusion, what is with me today?
I apologize.
If any of this causes you
To work to understand
What I rarely mean to say,
You’re trying far too hard
You shouldn’t strange your eyes
They’ll start to tear.
Don’t misread the meaning
I suppose I can’t explain
The expectancy of worth
How ideas form words
And how words twist those ideas.
I can’t explain that,
Or anything for that matter.
I’ve tried, but,
Words fall me.

To Whom it May Concern

I know that heaven
Has been known for it’s
Escalator ride.
However, for the matter
Of convenience,
Quantity and demand,
We have installed an
Which will suit you
Just fine.
As you enter,
Do not be alarmed
By the wounded soldier,
The group of starved
Or the recently
Executed convict.
Just stand between
The rapist and the
Recently deceased Pope,
And ask,
“Is this thing going up?”

One Man's Trash

Puffy clouds in your glass of wine are not really clouds, stupid.
And the ocean is nothing like a girls eyes.
I’ve never felt a kiss that was as hot as a iron.
I would expect that to really hurt,
But what would I know.
And diamonds really don’t last forever.
Nothing does.
Well, maybe numbers do.
Pi, perhaps, is a perfect example.
And prime numbers are like the sea.
And even numbers too.
So how about I tell you what to do,
With that poetry of yours,
And I’ll stick to mine.

How To Maintain a Proper Image

If I should wake before I die,
Kill me if I’m screaming.
‘Cause I really don’t want
To feel much pain
Or anything for that matter
And by that point
I might as well
Just be leaving anyway.
Sure, I wish I could be more profound.
By that point I suppose everyone is,
So maybe those fine individuals
Might make up for me.
Because, quite frankly,
I want to go quick
By bus, or train, or airplane
Preferably, in flames
With a crash.
At least then I won’t have to look forward
To anything worse
Or back
Which is far more painful
As far as I am concerned.
So pull the plug.
Let me go.
Turn me back to ash.
Or whatever is most convenient.
‘Cause convenience is the way of the future
And death is too.
I really don’t want to be a ruckus
Deathbeds are far too embarrassing,
And I need to keep my image
Too much blood makes me faint.
Reflections always make me cringe,
And I don’t want anyone to see me
At least not like that
Because that ash is all you leave behind
So honestly, do what’s right.
Be a gentleman, or a lady.
If I should wake before I die,
Kill me if I’m screaming.

March 29, 2005

Miami, Florida
On a dry and sunny day
I meandered outside
From the small hotel
Along the waterfront
Eyes squinting
Through the blinding sun
I stumbled past the pool
Crowded now with strangers
Searching for my friends
Perhaps down the beach
With one hand to block the light
A light vibration in my pocket
Startled me.
I caught the phone and answered
My brother spoke
From a hundred miles away
“Did you hear already?”
He said,
“I’m sorry man,
Mitch is dead.”
I stopped in my tracks,
My ankles sinking in sand.
“I’m sorry man.”
I looked at the kids
Making whirl-pools
And doing headstands
Making the water a second surface
From the bottom
Looking up.
I told my friends,
Who chuckled,
Thinking, that’s what you get
I guess that is to be expected
When a comedian dies.
But I wasn’t laughing.
The man was my hero
And his heart gave out.
What was so funny about that?
How will it be
When I am gone?
Will there be laughter?
I suppose I could live with that,
Or without that.
but will there be one kid
With his ankles sinking in sand,
Thinking, Why
Did he have to go
So soon?


I have to stay
Completely still.
Stay focused.
If I’m going to remember this right
The Greeks used that strange word
To define those strange visions
In our sleep
But to me it sounds like
Which reminds me of
Twisting in just the right way
Which reminds me of
The way people suppose we dream
As a steady stream
I’m not sure though
I do know
My eyes see everything
And to them it is real
Even though it might just be
Chemical coursing continuously
Maybe it’s just me
Talking to myself
Or memories
Trying to understand themselves
Some say I could be dreaming
As we speak
And to a certain extent
I know that’s true.
I don’t always
And I don’t think
I will ever
Get it
Quite right
But I do know
I can always
Dream I can.


Eyes open suddenly,
Pupils dilate,
Blinding light
Where am I?
The lights beside me
Flicker past frantically
The tracks roar
Beneath my feet
The train is empty
As far as I can tell
Where am I?
My stop long gone
Outside now
From the rat nest
Beneath the city.
The flickering lights have turned
To trees layered in their own coats
Of snow
But the screaming tracks are not dampened
And I, bundled in my own layers,
Have found my tired eyes focusing
On a foreign landscape.
Snow flutters past,
Momentarily meeting with the window,
Before drifting away again.
Where am I drifting?
Is this a simple mistake,
Caused by tired eyes?
Or have I decided to wake
In this place not so distant,
But definitely foreign?
The doors open and I leave behind,
The scratched, worn surfaces,
Which so many have tired over time.
And now, beyond the rusted metal
Of the platform beneath my feet,
White confetti scatters from above
To welcome me to a place,
Dormant and hibernating
Under it’s white blanket,
Waiting for me
To come and wake it.


Julie Doiron and Pokemon Sausages

I thought this was just charming.

What. Not into that?
Here's a Japanese game show where people have to walk interestingly. It's called "Walk Interestingly." And that's what they do. Further prove that the Japanese can take anything and make it insane.

As if we needed any proof.
Just like we really needed someone out there to sell Pokemon sausages.

Here's a commercial where Keifer Sutherland yells "Yes!" while selling Calorie Mate, like a true American hero.


New Song Sunday

Here's a new one, in all it's faltered glory.
It's called Hold, and you can download it here.

Hold - Zack Newcott and the Chemical Cow .mp3

As always you can also scroll down to that little Box window and pick it up there.
And yeah, that's the lyrics pasted above. I don't know chord names so I either do illustrations of what I think they are or just guess. For that reason it's always best for me to record each song as soon as I come up with it so I don't forget. So, yeah, I guess I don't "traditionally" know how to play the guitar, but i like how it sounds. And there's also a bad drawing of an airplane wing I started on the plane but didn't finish.


In Transit (And Another Josh Groban Mistaken Identity)

I had to leave this morning. Here is a visual chronicle of my departure, and numerous arrivals.

6:30 AM - Orange County Airport

Airborne - Over San Francisco

Arrive - San Francisco

Depart - San Francisco

Arrive - Chicago

Chicago - Walk Down Crazy Hallway to get to Gate 24B

Depart Chicago

Airborne - Chicago

Arrive - DC

Here's where my trip gets really interesting.
Somewhere between LA and San Francisco there was another one of those mid-air snack carts. The stewardess leaned in towards my seat and offered me a drink. Politely, I asked for a coke. It was no big deal, but when she handed it to me she stopped what she was doing and just stared at me. I looked back, slightly confused but enraptured by the sudden attention. Bending her head sideways, she asked, "Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Josh Groban?"
Surprised and confused, I replied, "Yes, actually that seems to happen a lot."
Happily, she returned to work.
But I have to admit, I did momentarily think I should try to sell it as though I was actually Josh Groban riding economy class on a frequent flyers ticket with two connections.

I miss California.


Virtual Haircut

Okay, sure, you've probably already heard this, but I never have.
It actually made me turn around in my seat. Use headphones.

What's really crazy is that my hair is inexplicably so much shorter now.


Hey! I've been meaning to post, but I got distracted by "stumble upon" and haven't done much else, online that is, in several days. Honestly though, making snowflakes is my new hobby. Although, to be honest, I can't help but feel as though all the links I'm coming across have been recycled to all my other friends.
Although, that might not be a bad thing.

Other than that though I've been doing a whole lot. Yesterday I was on my buddies radio program on-campus at Biola, the "Birdy and Fergy Hour," and had the chance to severely embarrass myself. The podcast for my episode isn't up yet, and you especially are definitely better off not hearing it. Although I failed to do the subject matter any justice (the topic was dating), I did however get some amazing frozen yogurt afterwards and had an amazing time doing it.
I've never quite understood why practically every girl I've ever met enjoys frozen yogurt so much, but I definitely approve of it above most other things:

(Horrible Sweaters About D-Bags Named Mr. Darcy)

To be brutally honest though, I actually have no idea if there is any difference between Frozen Yogurt and Soft Served Ice Cream. I would appreciate it if anyone could clear this up, but I'll probably continue just to ignore the intricacies of the whole debate and just get gummi-bear toppings and remain blissfully ignorant.



Let me say that the club scene really isn't me. In fact, I tend to do just about anything in my power to avoid tight, hot, spaces, filled with noisy and frantic people. The prospect alone of such a situation deserves an emotion I usually reserve only for crickets, and that emotion is a mixture of both fear and anger.

So let me express my surprise when I say that I went to a club last night on Hollywood Blvd, and actually had an amazing time. The place was called club "Bang!" A name which my roommates and I were practically forced to make fun of without remorse. Honestly though, it was a seriously fun time.

I had never been to a club before, so I was looking forward to the chance of seeing a DJ in action. And although I couldn't actually "see" him do his thing while he was separated up in his Plexiglas tower, it definitely put me in the mood for some new music mash-ups.

This one is real good. REAL good.

Killers Vs. Muse

Arctic Monkeys vs. Afrika Bambaata

Oasis Vs. Blackstreet

The Killers Vs. Fatboy Slim


In California

Everything is amazing. I had the best lasagna last night, and the best gelato ice-cream ever.

Did you know gelato is so dense because it has 35% less air than regular ice-cream?! Well it does.

We went to this killer place in Hollywood, but our real adventure was on the way back when we became slightly lost and ended up in places of town that I'm pretty sure don't exist when it's light out.

On a completely unrelated note, here is the best website ever. It's the ultimate Lego arms dealer site, and not the usual kind of yellow plastic arms, I mean guns. Huge guns. And they sell lots of them: http://brickarms.com/

But bad news for all you sick Lego war re-enactors, all the white bandit terrorist figures have sold out. Apparently there were enough people out there who saw it fit to invest ten solid dollars into these.


Bad News and Good News

Bad News:

Looks like LOLcats will be a thing of the past if "Complaint Remover" can get to it fast enough: Cat Complaint Article

Good News:

My mime memes remain wildly unpopular on the internets and hence show no signs of being removed.

Bad News:

New episodes of Lost are plagued by constant advertisements.

Good News:

Lost is on.

And advertisements in Japanese are AWESOME.

Bad News:

My blog posts might be a bit crazy this week.

Good News:

Because I'll be in California.


What Is THIS, And Why Did I Watch It?


Easy. Because it has a monkey playing the drums and lots of sound effects.
The harder question is why we don't have stuff like this here in the good Eau-Ess-of Ey. Somebody needs to shove that monkey in an envelope and send him state-side, because he's all I ever wanted.

But what of this?

This is what people watch in Japan. There are people out there, who have really looked forward to seeing how many shoulders a cat in a rediculous uniform can cross. And today I have discovered that I am one of them.
What I have also discovered is that there are probably also television producers, and writers, who sit in a finely furnished office brandishing their daytime television awards exchanging ideas on what crazy thing they can do with cats next.

Well, a youtube search for "crazy japanese cat" came up with this, and believe me, I'm am going to try it:

SO I'm sure you're probably asking yourself, what was the point of this post? Good question my friend. I hope you like this ironic turn of events, because there is no point. In fact, I have no idea why you watched this. But I bet you enjoyed it. Am I right? Come on, I'm right.


Of Lost Time Machines

Sorry for all the sporadic updates, this week is chock-full of midterms (see Half-Life post below) so I've had a hard time getting to the compooter without feeling guilty for not studying.
One thing I've realized this past week is that I'm not terribly blessed when it comes to math. If it was my only that one class, maybe I could do well, maybe. But with eighteen units it's just too much for me. Actually it's all too much for me. What I fear is that this unfortunate mathematical disability leaves me incapable to complete one of my life goals.
That goal of course being to finish my time machine.

I was really looking forward to punching a T-Rex in the face, but apparently (according to some engineers out there) this would require a sufficient amount of number crunching to accomplish.
It's a real shame.
That is of course unless I can think of some non-mathematical option, and/or just wait for someone else to do it and then time travel back to me with a cheat-sheet. Which I'm sure I can, will, and already have done.
I guess you can say that's my master plan.
I am going to cheat my way into the future.
Sure, this will most definitely result in a time paradox, causing a rift in the space-time-continuum and in turn result in the implosion of the known universe. But I am going to punch that T-Rex in the face if it's the last thing I do.

This naturally brings me to my second favorite subject.
That's right Brotha!
If you've seen the latest episode of LOST, you probably already know that I thought it was the best thing since LOST was created. Which logically makes it the best thing ever. This is mainly because it too was entirely about time-travel.
Now, if you look at the left-hand profile, you'll see that my favorite past-time is exploiting holes in time-travel movies. So you better strap yourself in as I run down what I saw in the latest episode of LOST in the most nerdy fashion ever.

Basically, Desmond undergoes what Dan Faraday calls "cognitive time-travel," a theory in which Desmond mentally travels back in time. It's kind of like memory, except he can actually affect past events.
I've thought of this idea before and even had a vivid dream where I was convinced, even after waking up, that it was possible. Unfortunately, it just isn't. Obviously, mental time travel is possible. It's called remembering. Messing around with those memories is usually the result of a disorder. In the episode though, Desmond's time-travel actions have already affected events in Dan Faraday's life, as was exemplified with the notebook writing at the end. Clearly, if you're messing around with other people's past's and physically altering the future, it isn't just cognitive time-travelling anymore but physical. So unless Dan was imagining it, the whole "cognitive" theory goes out the window.
Furthermore, Dan, the physicist, suggests to Desmond that he should find past Dan and give him the numbers necessary to get his time-machine contraption working. This proves sucessful for Desmond, but this would appear to create a time-paradox. If Desmond gave Dan the numbers, then Dan would never have had the opportunity to figure out how to make a time-machine in the first place. This would be the equivelant of me coming back with my future cheat-sheet. Essentially, the time-machine would have created itself and would continue to exist endlessly in a repeating cycle.
I liked how Dan mentions that the lab rat probably died as a result of living too long in the past. This mental vs. physical age has always fascinated me. It makes the later part of the episode, where a fellow time-traveller dies, much more interesting. He dies suddenly within a matter of minutes, but in theory he could have mentally been living a hundred years. This would explain his last words, "I can't get back."
Now for Dan being unable to remember Desmond in the first place. I think they were hinting at Dan's poor memory earlier with his poor test-taking skills with the cards on the beach.

Sorry, I got... LOST there a minute. Mwahaha.
Of course, I fully expect the show not to answer any of these questions. Ever. In fact, they'll probably answer these questions by throwing even more implausible crazy crap at us. Which is just fine by me, because that seriously was the best episode of the series.

Oh, I have French class now...


New Song Sunday - Doesn't Have A Song

Sorry to those listeners out there. I decided to take a break from the music this weekend to brush up on my sound design and make this really short sound-piece-thing.
I was thinking a lot about past jobs I had and how they basically boil down to one thing, me walking around in circles and taking frequent bathroom breaks for no apparent reason. In fact, every job I've ever had, including being a Skipper on the Jungle Cruise, has pretty much been myself moving in a closed circuit pretending to look busy. I believe they're called Euler paths. So this week's sound experiment is basically that.

Every Job Ever - .mp3